VOL. LVI.
HARTER,
AUCTIONEER,
MILLHEIM, PA.
J C. SPRINGER,
Fashionable Barber*
Next Door to JOURNAL Store,
MILLHXIH, PA.
JgROCEERHOFF HOUSE,
▲LLXGHXNY STRUCT,
BELLEFONTK, - - - PAi
C O. McMILLEN,
PROPRIETOR.
Good Sample Room on First Floor.
•S-Vree Boss to and from all Trains. Special
rates to witnesses and Jurors. 44
IRVIN HOUSE.
(Host Central Hotel In ths City J
Corner MAIN and JAY Streets,
Lock Haven, Pa.
S. WOODS CALWKLL, Proprietor.
Good Sample Rooms for Commercial
Travelers on first floor.
D. H. MINGLE,
Pbjrsici&n and Surgeon,
MAIN Street, MILLHXIH, Pa.
JOHN F. HARTER,
PRACTICAL DENTIST,
Office 1b 2d stery of TomUnsox's Gro
cery Store,
On MAIN Street, MILLHXIH, Pa.
BP KIHTFR,
a , FASHIONABLE BOOT A SHOE MAKER
Shop next door to Foote's Store, Main 9t,
Boots, Shoes and Gaiters made to order, and tat
tafactory work guaranteed. Repairing done prompt
ly and cheaply, and in a neat style.
8. R. Pxalr. H. A. McKUL
PEALE & MoKEE,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Office opposite Court House, Bellefonte, Pa.
C. T. Alexander. C. M. Bower.
<& BOWER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office in Oarman's new building.
JOHN B. LINN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Allegheny Street.
QLEMENT DALE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, FA.
Northwest corner of Diamond.
HOY,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Orphans Court business a Specialty.
M. C. HEINLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Practices in all the courts of Centre County.
Special attention to Collections. Consultations
In German or English.
J.A.Beaver. J W.Gephart.
JgEAYER 6 GEPHART,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Alleghany Street, North of High.
"Y° cum & HARSH BERG ER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA
B.KELLER," "
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA
Consultations in English or German. Offlee
la Lyon's Building, Allegheny street.
f>. K. SABTINas. W. I. RIiDKB.
JJ ACTINGS 6 REEDER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA
Office on Allegheny street, two dopra east of the
office occupied by the late firm of tnriw |r Hast
-84.A i||u _ t|
Bkt Pillitei* iiiwil
STRN SONG.
What makes the birds so merry ?
What makes so ripe the cherry ?
It is.the Sun that eornes along
To mell >w fruit and mellow song;
This makes the birds so merry,
This makes so vlpe the cherry.
What warms the blood that rushes
To bring the tint that blushes ?
It lathe Sun imparting heat
To rosy lips to make them sweet.
This warms the blood that rustics
To bring the tint ttiat blushes.
Why are the flowers growing, *
With odors overflowing?
because the Sun each blossom loves
More thau the houey-lee that roves.
For this the flowers are grow tug,
With odors overflowing.
AUNT POLLR ROOM.
"Love in a cottage, stuff and non
sense," saiil Mrs. Meredith, in the
cnrt petulant tone which denoted years
of grinding poverty, petty annoyances,
and blighting cares.
"Mary, I tliiuk you ought to know
better.
"But, aunt Polly, why shouldn't
people love ono another as well in a
kitchen as a palace?" pleaded Mary
Meredith, a bright-eyed girl of nine
teen who was plaiting up a new trim
ming for the old cashmere dress which
bad already been "turned" twice.
"They don't," drily retorted aunt
Tolly. "That's all I know about it."
"When poverty comes in at the door,
love flies out of the window."
"Then it can't be real love," said
Mary, very decidedly.
"i kndw that I should be happy
with Charley anywhere, even if we
hadn't a carpet to the thxir, or a cur
tain to the window."
".Fiddle-de-dee," said Mrs. Mere
dith. . _
"That's all you know about it. That s
just exactly what I thought when I
married your uncle Cyril.
"Folks say that old Benaiah Mere
dith was a licli miser, and that, sooner
or later, your uuclo Cyril would inherit
all his property."
"So he did, such as it was—this old
tumbled-down house, half-a-dozen or so
of sterile acres, and the 'Genealogical
Family Tree' mounted on parchment
and emblazoned in different colors."
"But I didn't think of that. I was a
foolish school girl in love, and, like all
the rest of them, 1 married in haste and
repented at leisure,
"And here I am, at forty, a broken
down old woman with your uucle Cyril
helpless and bedridden upstairs.
"To me he is a care and a burden.
To bim I am a slave."
"There, do you hear bis caue rapping
on the floor upstairs?"
"That is a signal for me to drop
everything and hurry to him at once.
"Get married, Mary; do, if you want
to euter into just such wretched slavery,
at once."
Mary Meredith was silent.
Aunt Polly had never spoken her
mind quite so plainly before.
Was it then true that aunt Polly had
once been a rosy, dimpled young thiDg
like herself, with a heart full of vague
anticipations, a soul half unfolded like
the convolvulus buds?
Would life treat her with the same
unrelenting cruelty?
Would Charley Franklin ever shrivel
into a snarling old bundle of akin and
like uncle Cyril in the great bed up
stairs?
And as she pondered Aunt Polly came
briskly downstairs again with a gruel
cup in her hand.
"Don't I hear the ragman's bells?"
said she, peering out of the white-cur
tained window.
"Yes, it's Abram Se eley, with hi
old grey horse, just coming np the road.
Get the white rags, Mary, quick, and
I'll run for the old newspapers and
books."
"But uncle Cyril didn't waut any of
tlit old books to be sold, aunt Polly,"
remonstrated Mary Meredith.
"Your uucle Cyril never wants any
thing to lie touched," sharply retorted
Mrs. Meredith.
"He'd let the old trash of the house
accumulate half-ceilmg high, if he had
his way."
"And as for those batttred old 'Rol
lin's Histories,' he never has so much
as taken them off the shelf rince old
uncle Benaiah died.
"And I mean to turn them into
money, to buy good stout yarn for his
winter stockings."
"Are the white rags ready, Mary?
Then call to Abe Seeley while I go alter
the books."
And Mary stooid by, scarcely disap
proving, yet powerless to remonstrate,
while the mildewed old volumes of
'Robin's Ancient History' were sold at
three cents.
"It's a shame," said she, "to sell
those books for such a sum as that."
"I'd l ; ke to know what possible use
they can be to us," said Mrs. Meredith
tartly.
"Books is books," said Abe Seeley,
a philosophical individual with a leath
ery complexion and oily one leg.
"But, to be sure, folks prefers poetry
and romances nowadays."
"They ain't just partial to ancient
histoiy, as far as my experience goes."
"Fifty dollars, that there last lot,
Mrs. Meredith."
"And three quarters," cried Mrs.
Meredith.
"Three-quarters at the very least,
Abram Seeley."
MILLHEIM, PA., TiIUItSDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, ISB2.
"Call it fifty-dollars," said the one
legged intineraut.
"la's the covers of thebooksus weight
heavy, Mrs. Meredith, and that's where
the paper mills don't allow a fellow any
thing,"
"Your cheating me," said the lady
severely."
"I'm cheating myself, Mrs. Mere
dith," said Abe Seeley fervently.
"Land of gracious! there's days as I
don't fairly make my expenses. *'
This was in the sultry glow of the
September moontide.
At sunset, the rag-wagon stopped
alongside of deacon Franklin's old
mill, where Charley, the deacon's eldest
son, in his broad straw hat and work
iug-eostume, was drawing a bucketful
of cold sparkling water.
"Never was mortal so thirsty in all
my life," said Abe Seeley, as ho reached
out for the gou;d shell.
"Wed, Charley Franklin, have you
finished that there course of divinity
lectures yet?"
"Whats that you've got in your
wagon, Abram?" said young Franklin.
Books? "I didn't know you dealt in
general literature."
"All's flsli as comes to my net," said
Abe Seeley, with a grin.
" 'Rollins Ancient History,' eh?"
said Franklin, carelessly taking up a
volume. "Is the set complete?"
"Every blessed volume." nodded the
rag vendor. "Don't yo want to trade
for them, Charley Franklin, I'll sell
'em to you oheap."
Young Frankyn was a book-lover—
he glanced longingly at the ancient
covers.
"What do yon call cheap?" said he.
Anil then and there liegan a diplo
matic course of bargaining, from which
Bismarck himself might have profited.
Charley Franklin, being thoroughly
in earnest, was at a disadvantage how
ever, and although he secured the
coveted literary treasure, he still felt
that he had been cheated.
While Abram Seeley went rejoicing
on bis way, muttering to himself:
"That wasn't such a poor bargain,
that there wasn't
"Ten thousand dollars! Oh, Char
ley, ten thousand dollars!" cried Mary
Meredith, in accents of incredulous
delight. "You are rich, Charley. You
can go on with your divinity lectures
now, and we con be married whenever
wo please."
"Doesn't it seem exactly like a fairy
tale?" sad Franklin, with a smile.
' 'To think that I rend through four of
the battered old volumes before I came
to the one hi which the ten thousand
dollars were neatly flatened out between
the leaves, touched with the least
possible speck of gum arabic. at the
four corners, to prevent them from
falling out.
"What!" cried anut Polly. "Ten
thousand dollars? What on earth are
you talking about, Charley Franklin?"
"About some old volumes that I
bonght last September—just before
your husband died you know—out of a
rag wagon," exclaimed Charlie Frank
lin.
"I got them at a bargain, for they
were real antiquities in their way; and
I'm trying to get a little classical
library together, by degress, and,
gummed between the leaves of volume
five, I found these old bank-notes."
Mrs. Meredith glared, then grew
alternately red and pale.
"You—you didn't tell us the name of
e book," she gasped, instinctively
putting her hand up to her throat.
"Didn'tl?"said Charley. "I thought
of course, I had mentioned it."
"It was history—'Rolliu's Ancient
History.'"
Mrs. Meredith gave a grasp at Mary's
arm to kpep herself from falling.
"Mary!" she ejaculated. "Mary, it
was the very pile of old books that 1
sold myself—uncle Benuiah's books.
"It was uncle Benaiah's hoarded
fortune that I flung into the rag-wagon
that day."
"What does it matter, aunt Polly,"
said Mary, "if it comes back to the
original owner again?"
"Of course, it is yours, Charley will
restore it to you atomce."
"Of course I shall, young Franklin
declared, when matters had been ex
plained to him.
"Do you think I could for an instant
retain money which was not rightfully
my own?"
"But it is yours,"|fcid Mrs. Meredith,
recovering herself. "Yours by bona
fide purchase and sale,
"Let it go. Uucle Benaiah's money!
It has only blighted my life with hopes
unfulfilled and ambition that never was
satisfied."
"My poor old husband died, and
never knew that it was his, and I stial l
be better off without It."
"Take it. you and Mary. Makt
you r self a home with it, and Heaven
grant that it may be a happy one."
And so the young people took her at
her word, and were nappy.
But in the prettiest southern angle of
the little Gothic cottage, which the
young clergyman inhabits, is a nook,
which is always called:
"Aunt Polly's room."
And after liiu's day of drudgery and
disappointment, the sunset is closiDg
brightly down upon aunt Polly's heart.
For Mary, her darling, is happy.
And in the refleoted sunshine oi
Mary's brow, aunt Polly finds her own
well-spring of peace.
"WE'LL shake once more for the qui
nine," as the ague said to the victim.
Anrlont Tab!on.
The Greek lady of leisure in Athens
employed herself at the spinning wheel
and had little need of u table,and beau
tiful in design and form as all Greek fur
nituro was, one striking natural charac
teristic proclaimed itself in the furnish
ing of the homes.
They never had that for which they
couid find no practical use, and conso
quently, as the tables were only needed
for the purpose of meals, they appeared
only at those times, wdre mere slabs of
wood, which were brought in at the
dinner hour, and set down loosely upon
their legs.
The meal over the tables vanished
with the empty plates.
In Homeric days each person hod a
separate table, and it was only when
luxury crept in that a larger table for
the men became common, while the we
men dined at separate ones.
Then the custom of lounging on
couches,the elbows resting on the table,
became usual, and the ladies were ex
pectcd to sit, while their lords assumed
the most comfortaole attitude they could
find.
Even then, however, the table played
so entirely a subardinate part that we
never read of it as being of handsome
material, or, indeed, as being of any
importance at all,except ti groan under
the food, which was of the most luxuri
ous description.
The Romans, on the contrary, held
their tables in the highest estimation;
they even made collections of them.
Seneca possessed 400 small ones.
It is curious to trace in the accounts
old writers give us of Roman luxury in
this respect a sort of likeness to taste of
modern days.
No article of furniture iu the Roman
house cost so much as the table, Those
with one foot or pedestal biought enor
mous prices,
Pliny says that tables were brought
in the first instance from the East, and
were called orbes.not because they were
round, but l>ocause they wer a massive
plates of wood cut from the trunk of a
tree in its whole diameter. Yet, oddly
enough, we hear very little of tables in
the East or in ancient history.
Moses made a table for the Taberna
cle, at if it were semetliing uncommon,
upon which to lay the shew bread.
Philo Jutheus describes it as having
been two cubits long and one-half high,
and dwells upon it as a remarkable piece
of furniture.
Fashionable tables in the luxurious
Roman homes were colled "monopedia,'
and were made of a massive plate of
wood, resting upon a column of ivory;
such tables w*re enormously expensive,
and, uccording to Pliny, the wood was
brought from Mauritania and cut from
the trunk of the citrus tree.
Some of the pieces of wood were four
feet in diameter, and the ivory oolumn
which supported them was extremely
massive. They were polished and cover
ed with thick cloths made generally of
coarso linen, the first indication we meet
with of the modern table cloth.
Cicero had such a table, for which he
paid the enormous anni of one million
sesterces. Just as to-day the handsomest
walnut tables are those made of wood
cut from the trunk nearest the roots, so
in the days of Roman magnificence
highest prices were paid for the tables
made from the lust cut of the citrus
tree, because the wood was dappled aud
marked.
The White Home Dorses.
Mr. Arthur brought on a pair of bay car
riage horses from New York, a bay saddle
horse he had used and a black saddle horse
hat had belonged to Mrs. Arthur. The
uew horses ate the leaders, brought here,
not hecanse extraordinary, but because they
are matched in color, build and size, the
other hays with which they arc to be dri
ven. These leaders are a trifle smatler,
but iu every way are a handsome match.
All four have the square cut tail. Allen
Arthur has a pair of pretty, light buggy
horses, also bay, but a lighter shade, lie
drives them to a new, very light buggy
with red ruuning gear. It is a dashing
little turnout, very pretty aud just what a
young man of his jears would delight in.
But the favorite of the stable is the black
horse that Mrs. Arthur always lode. The
animal is small aud trim, with a lovely
tiead, and a coat smooth and shining as
satiu. It is very gentle and is here for the
use of Nellie Arthur, who is just learning
to ride. The President does not ride ard
uas rarely done so for two or thiee years,
but he is much attached to his saddle horse
and likes to have the animai here where he
can tee it any iine. The foui-in-hand,
the two saddle horses and the light buggy
span occupy stalls on the north side of the
stable while the four office horses stand on
the south side. Two of these horses be
long to the president's private secretary,
Mr. Phillips, and are a "last team," one
jf ihe two having a noted record for speed.
Mr. Piiillips seldom gives theua a chance
to bhow iheir speed here, lor the pavements
are considered ruinous to a good horse.
President Arthur is like General Graut in
his appreciation of the flue points of a horse,
ind knowing a good hoise when he sees
jne. The stables are taking on a touch of
.he days when the presidential turnout
was really worth looking at, and the beam
lug face and erect figure on the box of Ai
xrt, the colored ooachman, show that
"Richard is himself again." But he looks
upon the inquiring mind as having rcpor
torial designs and declares he is afraid of
"reporters."
FOGG, who had been fed on pie for a
lay or two, informed his land-lady that
ne was not fond of pasteboard. Fogg
was given his walking papers,
Selection Selling.
"Selections, gentlemen; every day
this month I've beaten the horses,"
called out a rather shrewd-looking
young man on Pier 8, Nortli river, Now
York. Ho held in his right hand a
bundle of sealed envelopes, which he
shuflltMl over and spread out as if they
were a pock of cards,
"Sure thing," he continued ; "gives
you the name of the winning horse in
each race. Who'll have a selection ?
Best on the track. Gives you all horses
to win for both first and second places."
Walking up and dowx the pier he
accosted eacti group of men as they
came up to the gangplank of the Jebse
Hovt.
"How much for 'em?" asked a coun
tryman, who seemed to have come out
of New Jersey.
"Twenty-five cents."
"Gives names of winning horses?"
"Yes—every one—never fails. Have
one ?"
"Wa-ai, yes, I guess I'll take one."
The selection seller pocketed the
quarter and as he turned away the
countryman said :
"Say, there. If this ain't right, do I
get my money back ?"
"Yes—to-night in Central Park.
Don't fail to meet me."
The cc uutryman presently discovered
that in order to wiu any money by the
"selections" hewonld have to put money
on the horses. This he had not bar
gained for. and he was last seen trying
to get his quarter back.
Several men bought envelopes, and
all did so in a laughing, lialf-asliamed
way, as if they were willing for the sake
of the fun of the thing to try it just once.
"Do you sell many selections?"
asked a repsrter of the man.
"No—not many ; poor business."
The selection man evidently regarded
his interrogator as a possible rival in
the business.
The rejxirter bought on envelope.
Within was a long, narrow strip of
paper. On k were printed the numbers
of the races, with a space for the first
and second horses. For Wednesday's
races at Monmouth Park it gave the
winners as Parole, Pizarro, Amazon,
Fair Count, Itaska and Frank Short.
The first two were the only hits, so that
one who had impartially followed the
eelectious would have lost money.
Sometimes the selections have excel
lent luck. One day last week the old
est man in the business named the six
winning horses, and the next day named
five out of six. It is said that he was
once rich, and lost his money on the
English turf. He sold tips while m
England and is now to be tound busy
at" every important meeting in this
country. He advertises his business,
and furnishes distant subscribers with
iips at fifty cents a day or five dollars a
week. He has an office in New York,
where his wife sells the envelopes. He
is always around the track and stables,
and is said to have a tout who times the
horses at exercise. His success has
stimulated imiration.
"Are you generally correct in your
selections ?" asked the reporter of this
dealer out of fortunes at twenty-five
cents each.
"If I wasn't," he replied, "I would
soon lose all my custom. Of course 1
make mistakes. A horse may suddenly
get out of condition, and there are a
thousand mishaps on a race course. I
only claim to name the horses that
ought to win if they have a fair chance."
At the entrance of the Monmouth Park
race course a shabbily-dressed man of
fered sections for sale. The first
thought on seeing him was that if ho
was aide to pick out winning horses he
was al>le to buy better clothes. Appar
ently he had some business at the gate,
for he was afterward seen on the grand
stand wearing a badge. The man from
the pier also reappeared and continued
his soles. When the first two races had
run the selection sellers went about
calling:
"Selections, gentlemen; names all
the winning horses. Named the first
and second winners already."
This was true, and business became
brisk. The next race upset the selec
tion men, and their voices were stilled.
Suddenly they reappeared with pocket
books loaded down with bank bills and
announced that they would cash running
tickets on Turco at a slight reduction.
This is called scalping. It was not
confined to the selection men, but a
dozen others were in the field. They
scalped from 10 cents to $1 from the
winning tickets, but the great compe
tition kept the margin down pretty low.
The scalpers had hovered around the
French pool booths until the value ol
the winning ticket was posted and then
rushed into the crowd shouting ; "Cash
Turco, $12.50; worth $12.75." As
cashing tickets at the booths often in
volves a tedious delay many men were
willing to pay 25 cents to get their
money withot trouble.
"How much do you make a day?"
asked a reporter of a scalper.
"From $5 to $lO oil a good day. It
pays our expenses and gives us a little
something over to bet on the races."
A natural wool-velvet is now made
in France Dy a new process for treat
ing sheepskin with the WODI on. The
woolly hairs stand by themselves like the
nap of velvet, and yet adhere firmly to
the skin,
A Wo man'* Grit and Grip.
Not long ago a iady who resided in
Ivy Btreet, Atlantft, Georgia was "at
home" to quite a number of friends and
a pleasant evening was the result. Before
the hour for separation had arrived,
however, one of the guests of the lady
was taken quite ill and was escorted to a
bed room, where she was disrobed and
made to feel as easy as every possible
kindness could offer. About 12 o'clock
she fell into a quiet sleep and tlieyeung
lady who was watching by her side,
thinking that her guest had forgotten
her ills in sweet slumber, laid down
upon a sofa, beside a window in the
room, and was soon lost to the cares of
this world How long she fclept she
does not know, but whilst in the midst
of a pleasant dream she felt something
brush acroos her face and with a start
awoko. Her awakening saved the life
of her triend, but came near being her
own death.
The something which brushed across
her face and awoke her was the
night dress of that friend, who had, in a
somnambulistic fit, arisen from her bed
and walked across the room to the win
dow, beside which the lady was sleep
ing. To get to the window she crawled
over the sleeping form of her host and
then began an exit, which must have
resulted in death but for the gown.
Hardly realizing what she iras d< ing,
thelaly grabbed the white fabric which
had aroused her with both bands, and
as she did so her ears were greeted with
screams just outside the window. In an
instant she realized that she was hold
ing her friend in mid-air, and that to
loosen her grasp on the cloth was to in
sure her death. She was not physically
strong, but with a nerve rarely equaled
she tightened her hold and then joined
in with her friend's call lor aid. Boon
their combined screams awoke the in
mates of the house, who hastened to the
room and rescued the young lady from
her aerial position,
As soon as the somnambulist, for such
she acknowledged herself to be, was
drawn into the room, the young lady
who saved her life fainted, and in the
morning her nervous prostration was so
great that her friends are iu great anx
iety for her.
Diamond* lu Georgia.
Near Noreross, Georgia, there resides
au old German geologist, who loves to
live among the peculiar specimens of
mineral and vegetable matter which he
has unearthed and housed. He is an
elderly gentleman of little sociability,
but of great mental acquirements. His
physics! endurance is simply astonish
ing, For days at a time he wanders
over the hills and through the dales
near his home, collecting rocks and
stones, limbs and roots, the properties
aud - qualities of which are unknown to
all but himself.
The room in which his collection is
is wonderful. In one receptable are
arranged a number of stones whose
bright rays remind the observer of
diamond*. Iu the centre of this long
rdoni there rests a stone half the size of
a hen's egg, which was picked up by
the owner months and months ago. It
was found by its owner one rainy after
noon. For nearly a week he had been
on a tramp through the hills and dales
near his home, aud, weary with his
ceaseless toil, he was weeding his way
home when his eyes fill upon something
from winch the rays of the sun were
scattered in a thousand directions.
With little thought of what he was
the geologist stooped down and
picked up the object. It was nearly
half the size of a hen's egg, and of an
irregular shape. It was covered in
many places with thick, heavy clay,
which was removed with great care.
It was found to be exceedingly hard,
and whenever struck with a hard sub
stance gave forth but little sound. It
was almost colorless with hue and then
a tinge of green. Its form was that of
an octahedron, but some of the faces
or sides were inclined to be convex,
while the edges were curved. It was
subjected to acids and alkalies without
experiencing any perceptible change.
Borne friends induced him to place it
on the market, and only a day or two
ago he received a letter from a diamond
dealer in New York offering him $16,000
for it.
A L>ang*rouft Depotdt.
Not long ago a number of carpenters
began tearing out the floor of the old
Campbellite church, in Dallas, Texas, the
congregation l aving sold the property to
a business firm. While the remov, lot the
floor was going on a piece of oil cloth
about three feet square was discovered,
and in the folds of the cloth was some
hard substance. The workman who had
found the object drew his fellows around
him by his exclamations and unrolled the
cloth in their midsL Three round pack
ages were revealed. The finder did not
know what the packages contained and
was about to toss it into a corner when
some one shouted, "That looks like dyna
mite The man who held the explosive
had sense enough to place it softly down
during the stampede that followed. After
a while the workmen mustered up the
courage to look further. Each piece ol
dynamite was a foot in length and two
inches in diameter. Two bottles of nitro
glycerine were found also as was a
full set of burglars' tools. The carpenters
were so much excited over their narrow
escape that they hesitated awhile before
they could he induced to go on with their
work. 11 was evident that burglars had
used the church as a hiding place.
A Saliipsoii Mushroom.
A fungus of the mushroom tribe, has
exerted the wonderful strength which
belongs to a growing plant by pushing
its head through a solid asphalt floor at
ihe Niagara elevator, in Buffalo. On
Wednesday last the surface of the floor
was observed to have bulged upward at
a certain point, and the next day the
mushroom made its appearance, to the
great astonishment of everybody who
saw it. Speaking of mushrooms, an in
genious Frenchman is now cultivating
an experimental bed of the edible
variety in Mammonth Cave. Forty
pounds of extra fine mushrooms have
been thus raised in Cimmerian dark
ness, and the enterprise is likely to be
put on a commercial basis in the near
future.
fulling callie'a Tootn.
"That tooth must come oat," said mam
ma. Because, you see, it was loose and
there was a new tooth pushing right along
behind it*"
"It'll hu-urti"Baid Callie, with a doleful
quiver.
"Not much, I guess," answerrd mamma
cheerfully. "Open your mouth dear, r and
she managed to tie a strong linen thread
around the tooth before Calhe shut her
mouth again, tight.
"I ca ao't have it pulled! '* said she.
"Very well, "said mamma,vexed a tittle,
"you must keep the string around it until
you can."
Then CalJie's trials began. Papa was
going over to the village, and he said
Callie might go with him. But how coul.l
she, with that awful string nanging out or
her mouth.
"Maybe I can pall it now," said Callie.
"Count ten. mamma."
•HJne, two three, four, live, six, seven
eight, nine, t-c-n," counted mamma with
long pauses.
"Oh, I can't," cried Callie.
And she (lidn't; and papa went to the
village without her.
It was almost Fourth of July, and there
was to be a picnic in the grove, and Nel
lie Slater said her mother was going to
make currant pies. Callie liked currant
pies above everything else, to eat
"But you can 't go to the picnic with that
string," said mamma,
80, one day, Callie went out on the door
step and sat down to think it over. Joe was
splitting wood in the yard. Joe was papa's
choreb jy.
"I'll tell yeu how to pull it,said be."
"How?" asked Callie.
"Hitch it to the door-knob and then
open the door," said Joe. If you're
'fraid 'twill hurt, you needn't open it but
a little."
"Well, I will," said Callie; and she tied
one end of her "tooth-string** to the door
knob. But it wasn't a mite of use, for
when she opened the door she walked right
in alter it
Joe's eyes tiegan to laugh.
4 '1 guess I'll get a drink of water, 'said he.
He went in, and pretty soon he wanted to
come out again.
4 'Go e- easy! o-ohl" screamed Callie.
But Joe did't go a bit easy. He banged
the door open so quick that Callie couldn't
keep up with it And there hung her tooth
on the door-knob.
*■ W hat made you?" she demanded, and
sat down to cry about it Bat when she
found it didn't bleed the least mite, aor hurt
any she began to laugh instead.
"Anyway, now I can go to tie picnic
and have some currant pie," she said,"and
that's one comfort
An Egyptian Lady.
She wore, first, a chemise of some thin
white material, with loose sleeves, embroi
dered round the edge, hanging over her
hand*; then a large pair of crimson silk
trousers, so long and wide that they entire
ly conct a'ed her bare feet;then came a gar
ment like the Turkish anteree, descending
to the feet before, hanging in a train be
hind and opening at the sidea, with long
sleeves open from the wrist to the elbow
and falling back so as to display those of
the cnemise beneath. The dress was made
of cnmrou damask and embroidered all
round ine edge with black braiding, and
was confined—not at tne waist, but over
the hips—with an Indian shawl wound two
or three times round and knotted betore.
The last garment was a jacket, reachuig
only to the waist, with half sleeves, made
of an exceeding rich stuff ot dark blue silk
embroidered all over, in a runnmg pattern,
with gold, and edged with gold braiding
and buttons. Three large silver amulet
cases, containing charms, were hung over
the shawl girdle. The head dress is the
prettiest part of the Egyptian costume, and
Sofia's was exceedingly rich. Her hair was
divided into 20 or 30 small braids hanging
over her snoulders. to the end of each ot
which were affixed three silk cords strung
with gold coins of various sizes. Two
rows of gold coins, as large as a half ciown
piece, laid close together, encircled her
torehead; and at each temple depended a
clutter of smaller ones, with an agate or
nament in the middle. The back of her
head was covered with a small Egyptian
fez, ornamented with a large ckoors of
solid gold, and bound on by a hanokerchief
of embroidered crape. She wore two neck
laces of gold coins thickly strung together,
and each individual piece of money de
clining iroin a massive ornament in the
form of a fisb; one of these necklaces was
long, and the other just encircled her throat
aud bet* eon them was a string of beads of
Egyptian agates, as large as a bird's eggs,
and strung together with golden links. Her
ear-rings were of gold filigree in the shape
of flowers, and her bracelets, of which she
wore several, of massive gold and silver.
We computed that she carried about three
hundred aud fifty pounds on her person in
coins alone, without including her other
ornaments.
Suaell of Faint*
To get rid of this most objectionable
odor iii a chamber or a hying room,
slice a few onions and put them in a
pail of water m the center ot the room;
close the doors, leave the windows open
a little, and in a few hours the disagree
able smell will have almost gone. An
other method is to plunge a handful of
hay into a pailful of water, let it stand
in a newly painted room over mght.
This plan is also effectual. The fore
going have the important advantage of
being simple remedies, as the necessary
materials are always easily attainable.
Yet another plan, but it is rather more
complicated. Place a grate of lighted
charcoal on a piece of tiag or slate in
the center of the room, and throw on
it a handful or two of juniper berries ;
shut out all ventilation from the room
tor twenty-four hours. The doors and
windows can then be opened, when it
will be found that the nasty, sickly
smell of paint has entirely gone. The
furniture may be left in the room during
the process, and none of it will be
injured.
A Novel Telephone*
it is suggested that the wire-lences
which bound a multitude ot Western
larrns might be turned into telephonic
connections at a small cost, to the great
social advantage of lonely wives whose
husbands are away from mlining until
night.
NO 36.