Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, October 05, 1882, Image 1

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    VOL. LYI.
Fashionable Barber.
Next Door to JOURNAL Store,
Good Sample Room on First Floor.
Bags to and from All Train*. Special
rates to witnesses and Jurors. e-1
(Most Central Hotel In the CltyJ
Corner MAIN and JAT Streets,
Lock Haven, Pa.
8. WOODS CILWKLL,' Proprietor.
Good Sample Rooms for Commercial
Travelers on first floor.
Phyalcftan and Surgeon,
MAIN Street, Millhkim, Pa.
Office In 2d story of Tomllnson's Gro
cery Store,
On MAIN Street, Mili.heim, Pa.
BF kintfk.
Shop next door to Foote'a Store, Main St.,
Boot*, Shoes and Gaiters made to or<ler, and sat
isfactory work guarantedd. Re pairing done prompt
ly and cheaply, and iu a neat style.
8. R. PEAL* H. A. MCKK*
Office opposite Court House, Bellefonte, Pa.
C. T. Alexander. C. M. Bower.
Office in Garman's new building.
Office on Allegheny Street.
Northwest corner of Diamond.
Orphans Court business a Specialty.
bellefonte, pa.
Practices in all the courts of Centre County.
Spec al attention to Collections. Consultations
In German or English.
J. A. Beaver. J W. Gephart.
bellefonte, pa.
Office on Alleghany Street, North of High.
Consultations In English or German. Office
In Lyons Building, Allegheny Street.
Office on Allegheny street, two doors east of the
office occupied by the lam firm of Yeg*> Hast
lie pillleiti iiieial
Rtht is rijfht, and wrong la wrong,
Vet they mix lu deed ami aoug ;
Men can hardly set apart
Kit her guidance of the heart.
Half a thousand loves tuay die, '
Like tilue violets round us 11";
Karuest Hope may rise and at;
litght and wrong are mingled yet.
Heel them up together, friend,
Knots and tangles to the eud;
You nor 1 may hope to Bud
Purer earthllueas to wind.
Right is right, and wrong is wrong,
But 1 cannot Bud a a ,, n<r
Filled with either wrong or*,
Constant to the eudmg quite.
She was swinging on the gate, amos
undignified aetioa on the part of a gir
well in her teens, but at. first glance on©
could see that neither dignity nor any
thing approaching it belonged to pretty
Christie Norwell.
She was small and blonde, with short,
curling hair, and merry blue eyes that
were never grave, and red lips that
always smiled.
It was Quite a differout face, the one
opposite her, for the eyes wore an
earnest, trouble expression, and the
mouth dropped sorrowfully at the cor
" Chrisite," Blanche Glennou was say
ing in low, reproachful toues, "how
could you be so cruel last night?"
"Cruel! I would'n harm a creature
for the world," Christie returned lightly;
" I know what you mean, I danoed
with Mr. Armstrong three times and
only once with Paul. What of that ?
••It wasn't that alone. You slighted
Paul all the evening, knowing, too how
he dislikes Dudley Armstrong, You
realize it, Christie, its well as I do; and
if you care anything for Paul Chester o
his loye, you must be kiuder."
"Paul has no reason to dislike Mr.
Armstrong; he is a perfect gentleman,
"I do not agree with yon," Blanche
interrupted. "Ho is handsome and
polished but he is not a true man. 1
would be careful, if I were you, lest in
an unguarded moment, I committde
Something like anger flashed into
Christie's eyes, and then faded ; a smile
half-scornful, half-anused, curved her
" What a wise cousin it is !" she said
mockingly, " You always agree with
Paul. If you were not so anxious to
have me tie him to my apron strings, I
should think you were in love with him
Blanche turned away with heighten
ed color, and her cousin did not see the
look of unutterable grief and longing
that filled the dark eyes.
The words spoken in jest contained a
deep and sad significance for Blanche
Glennon, for with all the strength and
fervor of her true, womanly heart she
loved Paul Chester, the man whose
cause she was pleading. And the boon
she craved, she would have given her
life to win, all were bestowed on gay,
careless Christie, who valued them so
Christie slingged her shoulders and
laughed softly when her cousin left
" I wonder what she would say if she
knew all," she thought. "She would
be inexpressibly shocked, i sappose
After all, where's the harm ? Poor
Paul is kept in an agony of suspense
and jealousy, and the girls are dying o
Aud so her thoughts wandered on,
touching on one subject and then
another. What would Paul say if he
could know that the rose he had fasten
ed in her hair had found a resting place
in Dudley Armstrong's vest pocket?
What would he say if he could have
seen that gentleman in the act of clasp
ing a bracelet on Chaistie's arm, stoop
to press his moustached lips to the
small, white hand? Above all, what
would he think when, on the morrow,,
seated behind Armstrong's spirited grays
she dashed by bis office window ?
What he thought she never knew, for
beyond a quick, reproachful glance
from his dark eyes when next they met
Paul Chester gave no token of anger or
That glance troubled Christie more
than many words would have done, and
a dim conviction that she was doing
wrong entered her thoughtless brain.
But with her usual self-will and im
petuosity, she went on, in defiance of
Blanche's pleadings and remontrances.
Whether she drove, rowed or walked
Armstrong was her constant attendant,
and Paul drew aside, wai'.ing calmly for
the end to come.
He still loved Christie. She was so
childlike and thoughtless he could not
censure her ; she was so tender and win
some at times he could not turn away
from her; and so he waited, hoping
that some day she would realize her
folly, and return to the true, patient
Leart always ready to receive her.
On his way to the Norwell cottage
one September afternoon, he was salut
ed by an acquaintance from the city.
"So you've got Armstrong with you,"
the new-comer said, during the conver
sation. "By Jove, that man's clever,
and no mistake."
" You know him, then ?"
i "Yes, he used to belong to a club of
ours. Know liim well, aud his wif
"His wife 1 Is he a married manY"
The young man laughed heartily.
" Woll that's a good joke. He's been
passing as a single man, has he, and
breaking the girls' hearts ? Auothe
dodge of his. Yea, Cheater, he'a got a
wife, and she's a deuced aight too g<x*l
for him. That man's a villain, out and
out. Come to think of it, 1 believe 1
did hear a remark last night to the ef
feet that he was very devoted to a young
lady of this place, a beauty and an heir
ess, or something of the sort."
Paul continued his walk with a new
subject for thought. Christie's eye
would be opened at last; she could be
blind no longer in the face of the truth
he possessed, and ho felt glad for her
sake, at least, that ho could at last
bring her to a realization of her danger,
Blanche met lum at the door. Her
face was unusually pale, and her eyes
glittered like stars.
"Oh, i am so glad you caiue," she
said, eagerly. "Paul, Christie has
gone I"
"Oono? Whero?"
" Bead this; ii will explain all."
And she placed in his hand a tiny'
crumpled note, though there was a sen
tence written there she would gladly
have effaced.
"lam goiug to New York with Mr.
Armstrong to be married. You will
blame me I know, but by-and-by you
will be kinder. lam sorry Paul ever
me loved me and hope he will forgive.
Perhaps he will turn to you, now. I
hope so, for I think you love him, and
you will make him a better wife than I
could have done. Good-bye."
There was something in Paul's face as
he finished the perusal of the hastily
penned lines that brought a flush to
Blanche's cheek, aud her bps trembled.
It was so unkind of Christie to write
those last words. It seemed almost like
a taunt, and touched a tender chord of
the girl's sensitive heart, bringing back
with renewed strength the pain and
sorrow sho was endeavoring to live down.
" What shall we do ?" she asked.
Then like a flash, came to Paul his
friend's words: "Yes, Chester, he's
got a wife." Oh, if the foolish, reck
less girl had only known !
In a few words he explained the situa
tion to Blanche, and then hastened
away, resolved to save Christio if pos
sible. There were fifteen hours of an
xiety and suspense, then a telegram
reached Blanche from New York.
"She is safe. Will return to-iught."
It was net the gay, heedless Christie
that camo back to the little cottage, but
a sobered, thoughtful womau. Exper
ience is a stem teacher, but lier lessons
are sure and never forgotten.
"1 am so glad." said Blanche to
Paul, a few days after their return ;
" for your sake as well as Christie's
You have been very patient with her."
Paul looked thoughtful but made no
"Blanche," he said, at last, "do yon
remember what Christie's note contain
ed ?"
She gave a little gasp, and retreated
from him.
"It is unkind of you to remind me of
that," she said, in low, reproachful
tones. 1 * Christie "
"Do not mention her now. I have
learned a lesson, too. Blanche, it is
you I want, not Christie ; will you como?"
She did not speak, but her eyes met
his, and he read his answer there.
A Ruined Romance.
Everybody has read about Dick Tur
pin, who was executed, not, as has been
supposed, for gallant robberies, but for
the lower crime of horse stealing. In
stead of being an excellent fellow, with
an impulsive heart, Turpin was a low
wretch, petty, selfish, common and
brutal. The late Mr. A ins worth made
him a prominent character of "Rock
ford." In reality he was a farmer's
son in the eouuly of Essex, east of Lon
don, sent to a common school, and
apprenticed to a butcher in White
chapel, the worst end of London city,
and there he became noted for his bru
tal disposition, his love of fighting,
tackling people and cudgeling his horse.
When his apprenticeship expired ho
married a young woman and returned
to Essex county, at Eastham, and
started the butcher business; and it
occurred to him that he had better
steal cattle than buy them, and so he
deliberately sold in bis shop the cattle
of his neighbors, and when two oxen
were traced to him and a warrant ob
tained, he jumped out of the back win
dow of his house as the officer entered
the front door, and this made him an
outlaw, his wife furnishing him with
money to join a gang of smugglers on
the coast.
This gang was broken up by the
custom house officers very soon; and
then Turpin went to deer stealing in
Epping Forest, which lies to the north
east of London, and in it were several
fine parks of gentlemen containing
deer. This business was not remu
nerative, and the band resolved to be
house-breakers; and, while one of them
knocked at -the door, the others would
rush in as soon as it was opened, and
make away with whatever they could
lay their hands on. In the course of
these adventures they heard of an old
woman in the village who kept about
£BOO in her house, and when she came
to the door they forced their way in,
tied her and her maid, and Turpin told
the old woman he would set her on fire
if she did not reveal where the money
was. She, refusing, was actually
placed on the fire and kept there until
her torin enting pains made her point
out where she had concealed the gold,
and they stole £4OO and ran away. This
entirely disposes of the romantic origin
of Dick Turpin,
Herbert Waru's Keveuse.
Victor Torrens and Herbert Warne were
not a weU matched pair. Save m age and
social |Kwitlon there was nothing in com
mon between them; aud to their home
acquaintance it would have caused a gen
uine surprise could they have seen them
as they sal sipping coffee aud smokii g
cigarettes together one evening in a iiatty
little cafe in the American quarter of
Paris. Mottling is more sirikiug than the
effect of meeting in a slrauge land one
whom you have known in your own. If
a friend, he seems a brother; and him for
whom you had felt indifference
greet as a cherished friend.
Aud so these two young men, whose
intercourse at homo bad never exceeded
the bounds of distant civility, met each
other here with a warmth of cordiality as
real, to outward seeming, as though it had
spruug from years of closest intimacy.
"It's too bail," said Herbert, dribbling
a few drops of brandy upon a lump of
sugar blazing upon a spoon balanced over
his cup—"it's too bad. Victor, that you
should run away to morrow after this
pleasant accidental meeting. Couldn't
you stop a few weeks, Just to brace up a
bit after your year of High Dutch and
bad beer at that outlandish university? I
should think it would require a month, at
least, to take the taste out of your mouth."
"Ot wliich?—the lingo or the lager?"
"Both!" replied the other, with an em
phasis indicative of the impartiality of his
aversion. "Come, Torrens, be a good
fellow and stay till we've done Paris to
"Impossible;" returned Victor; "I have
an imperative engagement to ke i p."
"Oh! put it off—an engagement can
always be postponed for pleasure."
"Not (hi* one," said Victor —"besides,
there cau be no pleasure greater than that
of keeping it," he was on the point of ad.d
ding, but checked himself, uot caring to
biut thai his engagement was to marry
Myra (Jarleton.
He and Myra hail been long betrothed;
and, now that Victor was about coining
home for good, the two had settled by
their letters the day on which their wed
ding should take place.
"Remain a month, and I'll return with
you," urged Herbert Warne. "1. too,
have a b >mc engagement, but u can
"It's hardly as pressing as mine, then."
"I dou't know," Herbert ausweied.
"Cau anything be more important," he
whispered across the table, "than an en
agement to be married?'*
"That is rather particular," assented
"Especially when the lady is not enly
pretty, but rich."
••Do I know her?"
"1 hardly thiuk said Heibert
"Her name is—but no, I *on't mention it.
You see, our engagement a secret x©l
- I'll give you a glimpse of her
picture; that won't be telling, will it?"
Herbert Wayne produced a handsome
locket of which he touched tbe spring,
revealing a miniature of a bright, girlish
face surpassingly beautiful and charming.
Victor started as though an adder had
etung him. The fuce was that of Myra
"And she—she has promised tc —lobe
your—wife?" he gasped, a ghostly pallor
overspreading his quivering features.
"What an unflattering question, my
dear fellow! Am 1 such an ungainly
monster that every fair maiden, must,
perforce, be frightened at me?"
"And and —she gave you that minia
"You don't suppose I 6tole It, do you,
Torrens? But what on earth's the matter,
man? Upon mjr word, you've a strange
way of congratulating a fellow on his good
Recovering himself with an effort, Vic
tor asked with forced calmness:
"When is your marriage to take place?"
"Oh! as soon as 1 return. 1 haven't
been silly enough to tie myself down to a
day certain. I mean to see a httle of
Pans first."
As soon as he could, Victor excused
himself and sought his lodgings. At first
he thought of writing to tax Myra with
her perfidy; but on reflection he decided
to go his way in silence, concealing, as far
as practicable, from the faithless oue the
misery she had caused him.
After a month's wandering from one
European city to another, Victor at last
turned his face koruewartL It his heart's
anguish was yet unassuaged, he had at
least learned to hide it.
Every day. as he neared his native land,
he felt nis trepidation increase. He almost
wished he hail remained abroad. If
chance threw Myra in his way, would he
have the strength to so conduct hiucself as
to convince her that she was completely
banished from his heari? This he was
resolved to do at any cost, but the ordeal
was one he dreaded.
The day Victor lauded he met one of
his best and oldest friends, who returned
his greeting with a coolness and reserve so
marked that he could not forbear saying:
"Y'ou do not appear over glad to see me,
"If Ido not," returned the other, "you
can scarcely be at a loss for the reason."
"But I assure you 1 am at a loss," ans -
wered Victor, eyeing his friend curiously.
"One who engages the affections of an
artless girl and appoints a day to marry
her, and then absents himself without a
word of explanation, leaving her to bear
as best she mav the humiliation of such a
slight, and at laet to die of a broke* heart,
can scarcely wonder that auy honorable
man should wish to strike him from his
list of Iri nds."
"Do not tell nie that Myra Carlton is
dead!' cried Victor, in a tone of agonized
"It is not your merit that she is not,"
was the leproachful answer. "Ever since
that day, when in her bridal robes she
waited your arrival, insisting to indignant
friends that some accident had detaiued
you, till, ac last, hope died even m her
hopeful heart, she has drooped and with
ered like a blight 3d rosebud, her only con
solation being that grief kills at last!"
"But," replied Victor, "It was not I
who proved faithless; it was she who trans
ferred to another the affection she had
pledged to me "
"Who told you that?"
"Herbert Warne He showed me her
picture in Pans, and said she had prom
ised to be his wife."
" Then tbe villain simply lied."
"But the picture —he said she had given
it to him."
"Have you forgotten that Herbert
Warne is a skillful art'st, and could easily
steal an opportunity of painttug Myra's
likeness, or could even produce it from
memory? Trust rne his story about the
picture is as false as the rest. If Myra
had given you up for Herbert Warue, why
lki r .k you, should she have prepared to
marry you on the dsy appointed, and bro
ken her heart because you did not come?"
Without a moment's waste of time Vic
tor tlew to Mvra's home lie Deeded no
assurance of lier truth now; and when she
told him how, in his absence, Herbert
Warne bail sued for her band and been
rejected, the motive of the mean revenge
he had attempted seemed so plain that
Victor exclaimed against his own stupidity
in not haviug at once divined the truth.
Myra needed little jiersuading to forgive
Victor for his lapse of trust; and ltg aston
ishing how soon the drooping rosebud re
gained its blooming freshness.
ifroke George Up.
1 lie best-natured woman in the
United States lives lu Austin. She has
been married a number of years to a
man named Ferguson, but she and her
husband have never had a quarrel yet,
and he has frequently boasted that it is
utterly impossible to make her angry.
Ferguson made several desj>erate at
tempts to see if he could uot exasperate
her to look cross or scowl at him, merely
to gratify his curiosity, but the more
outrageously lie acted, the more affable
and loving she behaved,
Last week he was talking to a friend
about what a hard time he had trying
to find out if his wife had a temper
The friend offered to bet SSO that if
Ferguson were to go home drunk, raise
a row, and pull the table cloth full of
dishes off the table sir© would show
some signs of annoyance. Ferguson
said he didn't want to rob a friend of
his money, for he knew he would win;
but they at lust made the bet of SSO,
the friend to hide in the front yard aud
watch the proceedings of the convention
through the window.
Ferguson came home late, ami appar
ently fighting drunk. She met liiiu at
the gate, kissed him, and assisted his
tottering steps to the house. He sat
down tiard in the middle of the floor,
and howled out:
"Confound your ugly picture, what
did you mean by pulling tliut chair from
under me?"
"Oh, I hope you didn't hurt yourself.
It is my awkwardness, but I'll try and
not do it again." and helped him to his
feet, although she had nothing in the
world to do with his fulling.
He then sat down on the sofa, aud
sliding off on the floor, abused her like
a pickpocket for liftiug up the other
end of the sofa, all of whrch she took
good naturedJy; aud finally she led him
to the supper table. He threw a plate
at her but she acted as if she had not
noticed it and asked him if he would
take tea or eoflee. Then the brute
seized the table cloth and sat down on
the floor, pulling the dishes and every
thing else over with him in one grand
What did this woman do? Do you
suppose she grumbled and talked about
going home to her ma, or tbat she sat
down and cried like a f >ol, or that she
sulked or pouted? Not a bit of it. With
a pleasent smile she said:
"Why, George, that's a new idea,
ain't it? We have lieen married ten years
and have never yet ate our supper on
the floor, won't it be fun—just like
those picnics we used to go to before
we got married?" and then thia angelic
woman deliberately sat down on the
floor along side of the wretch, arranged
tho dishes and fixed him up a nice
This broke George all up. He
owned up he was only fooling her, and
offered to give her the SSO to get her a
new hat, but she took the money and
bought him a new suit of clothes and
a box of cigars. Heaven will have to
le repaired and whitewashed before it
is fit lor that kind of a woman.
Electric Light Compann
"Preparations are making for a
serious contest among the various
electric-light companies, involving the
right to make and sell lamps whose
•illuminating portion consists of a
filament oi carbon, heated to incande
scence in an exhausted glass globe by
means of an electric current. At pres
ent, although at least four varieties of
the incandescent lamps, are made and
extensively used, under the names of
different patentees, the Edison Company
claims to own the exclusive right to the
manufacture, by reason of the priority
of its patents. Hitherto the Edison
Company, being occupied with other
matters, seems to have taken no steps
to make its claim good, unless tho rather
discreditable squabble with tho United
States Company at the time of the
Electric Exhibition in Paris could be
called a legal measure, but it has never
failed to assert it m the most sweeping
terms. Every one knows the appearance
of the Edison lamp, with its pe ir-shaped
bulb of clear glass, containing a loop of
blackened bamboo fibre. The Maxim
lamp, which is next to tho Edison,
most used in this country, has a loop
of charred card-board, to which consis
tency has been given by heating in
hydro-carlion vapor so as to precipitate
finely divided carbon in its pores, en
closed in an oblong bulb of opal or ground
glass; the Swan lamp employs charred
cotton thread ag a Conductor, and the
Lane-Fox, which, with the Swan lamp,
is generally used in England, uses the
root-fibres of Italian grass,strengthened,
like the Maxim card-board filament, by
heating iu hydro-carbon vapor. Of
these forms the Edison, although of
very recent invention, is said, probably
with truth, to have been the first oi the
kind patented in the United States, and
his company claims that the manufac
ture or use of any similar apparatus in
this country miringes those patients,
which cover all electric lamps having a
continuous conductor, of any material
whatever, aud an exhausted enclosed
IF you see a reu-iaced, sliort-liaired,
close shaved strainer on the street,
with a wide mouth, and ears standing
straight out like side lamps on a hack,
you may know he came here to see the
prize tight.
A Dog-Fight In Court.
One of tne most amusing trials that
has been witnessed in New York took
place at Cairo, Greene county, recently.
The title of the case was Delamater vs.
Delomater, and the controversy was
over the ownership of a wagon. From
the evidence it appears that the plain
tiff, when about seventeen years of age,
worked for a farmer and handed over
his earnings, aggregating about SIOO,
to his < ather, the defendant in this ac
tion. Subsequently the father bought
a wagon, and daring the past ten years
has made several trades, and now the
son claims the last wagon on the ground
that the first wagon was purchased with
his earnings. The case has been going
on before 'Squire Hill, who acts as
Judge, clerk, and in tlio absence of a
stenographer, takes down every ques
tion and answer in full. The numerous
tilts between Counselor Osljorn, who
appeared for the plaintiff, and Counselor
Griswold, who appeared for the defen
dant, kept the spectators, who were for
the most port New Yorkers stopping at
the various hotels in the Catskil s, in a
continuous roar of laughter.
The court was held in an old, dilapi
dated building, formerly used as a
church, and an old gentleman passing,
mistaking it for such, entered and sang
several hymns before he could be con
vinced of the majesty of the law. It is
not customary to remove hats on enter
ing the court, and during most of the
session the counsel and many of the
villagers who strolled in passed the time
in smoking cigars or pipes, and two men
stretched themselves at full length on
the bench in frentof the 'Squire. On
one occasion while crossing the bench
to speak to a friend a portion of the
platform gave way and precipitated the
'Squire to the floor, but he was imme
diately picked up by several friends and,
alter bracing up at Jennings' hotel,
close by, resumed his seat and the pro
ceedings went along until a question of
law was raised, when the 'Squire left
the court to procure his copy of the
statutes, aud the manner in wliich he
overruled objections on his return was
something wonderful. During one of
the frequent intermissions several dogß
that had followed their owners into
oourt got into a tight, and for a time
things were lively. One young man,
who thought it to much trouble to rarie
a window, pushed out several panes of
glass; but as the 'Squire was busy
taking down a question no attention was
paid to it. Tne 'Squire has uot yet
rendered his decision.
Education In Clilna.
Yung Lung, one of the Chinese Edu
cational Commissioners says the lakior
of an education commences at a very
early period in the life of a Chinese
stuueut, nor is it relinquished uutil the
disciple is buried puder the earth. The
examiuatious are very strictly conducted
and where one takes a degree a hun
dred fail. It is an interesting sight to
see so many gray headed meu who have
been defeated a score of times still work
ing away to gain entrance once more to
tho examination halls, eager to try
again lor the decree which has so many
Unies eluded their grasp.
"The military quarters are on a
smaller scale anil are inferior in all re
spects, consisting chiefly of rows of
barracks, without order or anything but
unwholesome stenches. Here assemble
about 1,000 cadets each year. From
the cadet no great proficiency in letters
is required, yet preierence is given to
the man who can add learning to his
more warlike accomplishments. Strength
aud activity, skill in archery and ex
pertness in horsemanship are much
commended if not the avowed requisites
tor passing. To give you an idea of
the thoroughness of a Chinese educa
tion, I must begin at the beginning,"
pursued Mr. Lung. "The child wnen
lrom five to eight years old begins the
study of the phonetic characters com
prehending tne alphabet He learns
botn to read and write them. He is ex
pected when ten years of age to begin
io 'ching,' t. e.,to explain and discuss
the subject matter, iu this ho perse
veres until he has finished the 'Font
Books and Five Classics.' The four
books are the books of the four phiio
bophcis ; that is. first, the Leum Yu'
or digested conversations, consisting
chiefly of the sayings of Confucius. It
is olteu called the Confucian Analects.
Second, the 4 Ta Heo' or great learning,
attributed to the pen ot Tsang Sin, a
diseipio of Confucius. Third, the
Chang Young, or doctrine of the mean,
by King Kicn, a grandson of Confucius,
and, fouith, the works of Muicius, The
writing of poetry does not prove so
great an obstacle to the average student
as a Western mind might imagine. It
consists principally in the application
of a few simple rules for the transfor
mation of prose into poetry. The
Chinese is best received who can follow
in the rut already made by his prede
Tho i-Ugiim Mouumeut.
The Pilgrim Society at Plymouth,
Mass , has been notified of the comple
tion of the second sitting statue of the
four to complete the national monument
to the Pilgrims. This statue is "Edu
cation." It is a female figure of collos
sal size, seated upon a pedestal. On
one side of her seat is cut in relief fig
ures emblematical of wisdom, ripe with
years; on the other youth led by ex
perience. The figure is cut out of one
block of granite and is to be placed by
the side of that of Morality. The
marble pannel to be placed under tbe
statute is also finished and will be put
in place witli the statue. On it is cut,
in alto relieve, a design representing the
signing of the social compact in the
cabin of the Mayflower. Both ot these
are beautiful specimens of the sculptor's
skill aud artistic conception. They are
the munificent gift of Roland Mather, a
wealthy, public spirited citizen of Hart
ford, Ooan., and cost about $20,000.
They will arrive in Plymouth and be
placed in position sometime next month.
Only two more statues ai e now required
to complete the monument, those of
Liberty and Law,
Telling A Story.
They were sitting on the verandah after
tea when the man with a story began to
tell it.
"By the way," he said, "1 heard a good
thing in town to-day."
"Was it very warm in town?" asked the
woman who stays at home.
lie assured her that it was, and thea
"I met Jack Roilins—"
"What! little Jack?" exclaimed the old
gentleman. "Why, I remember when
Jack's father first came to Huckleberry
ville, long 'fore he married Huida—she
was a Smith, you know, ole Billy Smith's
darter. Ole Billy was a curus chap. Did
1 ever tell yer 'bout that scrape him and
me got inter in the winter or thirty-five
no, 'twas thirty-four—yes—no—Well 1
disremember 'zactiy which, but anyhow,
Billy and me, we—"
Yes. yes, we know all about It Uncle
Ben," said the man with a story. "As I
was saying. 1 met Jack lioilins, and he
and I thought we'd go down on the beach
and have a swim—"
"You are getting on swimmingly now,"
observed the retailer of second-hand puns.
"Well, as I was saying," resumed the
man with a story, "Jack and I went down
to tho beach, and —*
"You had a nice bath," said the woman
who interrupts. *
"Ho, I didn't" sharply answered the
man with a story; **you see. the tide—"
"Oh, that reminds me of a funny thing
that happened to a lot of us fellows when
we were in the army!" exclaimed the war
veteran. "It was just after the second
Bull Run, and the major—"
Tho war veteran was reminded of a
"funny thing" invariably seven evening!, i
week, and, though he always told it from
beginning to end, nobody ever listened to
it. It is not necessary, therefore to repeat
After he had finished, however, the man
with a story began again:
"The tide, you see, was way out, and
Jack aaid that we might as well go up to
the hotel—"
"Oh, tell us!" again interrupted the
retailer of secood class puns.
The man with a story frowned on the
punster and continued:
"Go up to the hotei and see who was
there, Charley Sprague—"
"Is Charley one o' Squire Sprague's
boys?" quened the old gentleman. **The
Squire and me—"
"Ho, Charley isn't one of the Squire's
bovs, Uncle B:n/' was the rather peevish
rejoinder of the man witn the story Char
"Do you remember what a time we had
that night, it rained so?" suddenly a9ked
the young lady with the erratic mind.
"It's awful dry," remarked the ama
teur agrisulturist; if we dont have rain
soon, I guess my potatoes wont amount to
"What a horrid dress that Boston wom
an had on to-day!" said the young isdy in
the rocking chair.
"We had a bully time on the river to
day,'* interjected the boy in the flannel
"Shall you go to the mountains before
you return?" asked the young gentleman
who was dolne the agreeable to the young
Jady with the low forehead.
The man with a story saw it was no use
So be gave it up in despair and walked
sadly away, leaving the others to chat at
their own sweet with
But, mark you, he will tell that story to
every ne of them separately, and, proba
bly, two or three times to most ot them.
They.will come to the conclusion finally,
that it would have been much better for
them to let the man with a story tell it at
once and have done with it.
Newly Planted Trees.
The present season has been ail that
could be desired for trees and plant 9 set
last spring. It has been cool and wet,
excellent for the development of foliage.
But if atter weather is hot and dry, what
thenf The trees will suffer. The moist
weather, giving abundant foliage, has de
veloped plenty of root, but this root, like
that of any plants in saturated soil, is
superficial. If the season had been less
wet the root growth would have been less,
but it would have been deeper. • The ten
days without rain during the last of July
caused greater distress to corn aDd garden
crops than would have been the case from
three weeks ot drought in an ordinarily
dry season. Trees planted last spring and
not watered showed unmistakable signs of
suffering. Those who understoxl their
business prevented this by giving the soil &
good soaking once a week. August, how
ever, was wet and the trees never grew
The difficulty with those planters who
have not studied the nature ot the plants
they cultivate is that they seldom give
water enough. They water often enough,
sometimes too often, but superficially. It
is dissipated by the first sun, and scarcely
reaches the roots at all. bet us illustrate
in this way: The water in a pond that is
one foot deep has the same number of su
perficial feet for evaporation as the pond
four or more feet deep. So it i with su
perficial watering. The inch or
surface moistened is soon dried out, tie
roots having received almost no good from
the watering. In the case of continual
supeificiai waterings tne disability to the
tree is intensified; the roots extend nearer
and nearer the surface rather than down
ward. The autumn finds the tree with all
its roots near the surface, and the next
season, if a dry one, often kills it outright.
In fact, the second season is considered to
be the most critical in the life of a recently
planted tree if it be deficient in ralu.
Hence the planter of ornamental trees ami
shrubs will see the necessity of careful
watching ot plauted trees, especially such
as have not made fair leaf growth, for ac
cording to the amount of leaf growth so
will be the root, for it is well known that
there is no root growth until the leaves
expand, and hence, again; the reasoa why
sii evergreen may be planted at any sea
son, and for the reason that the leaves are
always more or less active; in fact dectdu •
ous trees may be most succesfully planted
when in leaf, if only the leaves can be
Kept from wilting. It is also well knowu
that a tree with plenty of top will make
roots faster than a tree cut nearly or quite
to a bare pole. Science, then, in tree
planting is to see, first, that they never
suffer for want of moisture at the root*;
and second, that the roots be induced to
strike deep as quicaly as possible-
NO 40.