VOL. LVIL HARTER, AUCTIONEER, MILLHKIM, PA. J C. SPRINGER, Fashionable Barber, Next Deer to JOURNAL Store, MII.LHKIH, PA. |)ROCEERHOFF HOUSE, ▲IXXOHXNT STREET, BKLLKPONTE, - - - PAI C. G. MCMILLEN. PROPRIETOR. Good Sample Room on First Floor. fFree BUM to and from all Trains. Special rates to witness*** and J arena *4 IRVIN HOUSE. (Most Central Hotel In tte City J Corner MAIN and JAY Streets, Lock Ilavea, Pa. 8. WOODS CALWKLL, Proprietor. Good Sample Rooms for Commercial Travelers on first floor. jQR. D. H. MINGLE, Physician aud Surgeon, MAIN Street, MILLHKIM, Pa. JOHN F. HARTER, PRACTICAL DENTIST, Office hi 2d story of Tomliusoa'a Gro cery Store, On MAIN Street, MILLHEIM, Pa. 3F KIJUTFH, . FASHIONABLE BOOT A SHOE MAKER Shop next door to Foote's Store, Main St., Boots, Shoes and Gaiters made to order, and sat is factory work guaranteed. Repairing done prompt ly and cheaply, and in a neat style. C. T. Alexander. C. M. Bower. A BOWER, ATTORNEYS AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Office In G&rman's new bunding. JOHN B. LINN, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny Street. OLEMENT DALE, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Northwest corner of Diamond. HOY, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Orphans Court business a Specialty. C. HEINLE, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Practices in all the courts of Centre County. Spec al attention to Collections. Consultations in Oerman or English. J. A. Beaver- J W. Geph&rt. JJEAVER & GEPHART, ATTORNEYS AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on AUegbany Street, North of High. ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. U Lick, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA, Consultations In English or German. Office in Lyon'o Building, Allegheny Street. D H HASTINGS, W. F. RKKDKIU JjAoiLNGS & REEDER, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, <0 BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny street, two doors east of the offl.-e occuoied by lbs late Ann of *► tiast- UifcS. 40-t7 In judging of others, a man iaoorein in vain, often erreth, and easily sinneth; but in judging and examining himself he always laboreth fruitfully. It is a great blunder in the pursuit of happiness not to know when we have got it; that is. not to be content with a reasonable and possible measure of it. UP TUK I.ANK. It la dark, atul cool aud shady Up the lane, Ami there goes a little lady Up the lane, uo the grass the dovv Is sparkling, Though the ulgtit the grass Is dark'uiug, And the suuiuier moon is rising - " Ttiuc to go," it Is advLsiug, " Up the laiio." For the moonrlse was the token. Up the lane, That fotul words were to he spoken Up the lane. So the little lady hurries- Far off flee all cares and worries. Aud her pretty face is flushing. As she hears swirt footeteps rushing Up the lane. Night moths at the flowers are sipping. Up the lane, Swift and sweet the hours are slipping Up the lane, Trees, majestic a.iadows flinging, Fireflies dancing, crickets singing, Aud white moonlight arftiug over Happy maid and happy lover, I P the lane. TIM'S TKMPTATIOM. It was getting ou towards dusk, ftiul Tim Drake, with his blacking-box swung over his shoulder, stood ou the corner of Conrtlaud Sfreet aud Broadway, eagerly watching tlie passers-by, and shouting almost continually, "Shine, sir—shine?" while at the same time he pointed down at the shoes of those gentlemen that Tim thought needed that attention. Mr. Robert Montague, banker of No. —Wall Street was ou his way to the elevated station at Courtland Street, to be carried to his elegant residence in one of the fashionable streets up town, when upon reaching the corner he met Tim, who instantly rushed forward, and, pointing down to Mr. Montague's rather muddy olotli top shoes, again shouted the repeated cry, 4 'Shine, sir? Have a slime?" The banker paused before the boy, glancing down at his own feet, and then at the bright eyes and dirty lace of the bootblack, who had already sunk upoD his knees and was prepare for work, "Well," he said finally, "yon can shine them if you'll hurry about it." Tim did not wait for a second invita tion, but, turning up the bottom of his customer's pauts, so as not to soil them with his blacking, he went straight to his task. It was not long before the job was finished, and jumping up froiu the ground, Tim stood waiting for his pay. Mr. Montague put his ban i into his trousers pocket, aud drew out a handful of coins. Selecting three he dropped them into the outstretched palm of the bootblack, saying as he did so: A three and two pennies; that's right, isn't it?" "Yes, sir, that's correct," replied Tim, as his late customer hurriedvway, ' "I think I'll buy little Jack an orange with that five," said Tim to himself as he walked over to a stand on the oppo site side of the way; for Tim had a little cripple brother, Jack, the only relation he knew of in the world; and often, after a hard day's work, when he made his way up town to the small room of the tenement which he called home, he carried some small delicacy to this little boy, though he sometimes had to scrimp himself to do it. While Tun was away down town, little Jack employed himself with a box of cheap paints that Tim had pro cured for him to make the weary hours pass more quickly. Tim selected the orange that he thought looked most juicy and inviting, then taking the three coins from his mouth, where he had deposited them, glancing at them as one might look at a very casual acquaintance before he let them go. In the glare of the oil lamp that lit up the stand he saw that oue of the coins he had taken for a cent was not a cent at all. "By hooky 1" he exclaimed, opening his mouth wnle in astonishment. If that 'ere gent didn't go and make a mistake; why, one of these cents ain't a cent—it's a two dollar and a half gold piece!" A thousand different thoughts flashed through the bootblack's mind as to what he should do with the money. What a lot of things it would buy him! He could get little Jack a bigger box of paints and even a drawing book, too. But then a small voice within him whispered; "It doesn't belong to you, and you have no right to it." Then still another voice said: 4 'Yes, you have, too, for how do you know where the gentleman who gave it to you lives?" It was a puzzling question, and Tim concluded, alter a minute's thought, that whatever he would do by and by he would not spend it just now. So putting -lie gold piece into an inner pooket, aud taking a nickel from among his earnings ot that day, he paid for the orange and walked briskly up town. A week passed, aud Tim still had the gold piece. He had hung around the corner of Courtland Btreet every afternoon, half hoping aud hall fearing that he might see his customer, but the gentleman had not yet appeared. On this particular day Tim had ex perienced very poor luck. It was a fiue day; people did not seem to want their boots blacked, and Tim MILLILEIM. PA.. THURSDAY, JANUARY 18.1883. had shouted himself hoarse to no pur pose. It was oold aud #windy that night, and when Tim figured up his day's profit*, he fouud that he had made scarcely more than halt of the previous day's earnings. „ 1 hitting his hand into that inner pocket, he drew out the gold piece and gazed at it enviously. ••I can't stand it any longer," ho muttered, "1 must spend it. Little Jacks paint-box is all worn out, aud I'd reckoned 011 buying him a new one to-day." "It would be such a surprise to him, poor little chap," "I'll get it up-town, though," he added. "Paint-boxes is cheaper up there." So, restoring the gold-piece once more to his pocket, and buttoning up his coat, he walked on. Before long he had reached the same corner where he had blacked the gen tleman's boots. Looking down towards the elevated station he stopped in his walk. "It's awfully windy a-walking way up home to night," he said, '*aud I've halt a mind to go up in the train." "If I'm going to spend the gold piece I can aflord it for once." Turning down the street he was soon at the station, and just in time to catch an up-going train. The cars were very crowded, and Tim had to stand up by the door. Looking forward, whom should he see, also standing, but the gentleman who had given him the gold piece. Tim started. Here was a chance to return the money. Should he give it back to the gentleman, or should he get out of tlio train at the next station and keep it? If lie kept it he could get little Jack the paint-box, and have quite a balance over. He could almost see the glad face of nis little brother as he would hand him the box. Then, on the other hand, if he re turned it, ten to one he would receive small thanks for it; and what with the slim profits of the day's work, he would have hardly enough money to buy little Jack's and his own frugal supper. The train just now ran into a station, tlie gateman shouted the nauie of the street, and the cars came to a standstill. Tim's mind was made up; he was just about to leave the car when, turning to cast a glance at banker, he noticed for the first time a familiar tigure stand ing near that gentleman. "Jimmy!" he muttered under his breath, "if there ain't 'Sly Sam.' " "A young pickpocket like hiin, whose been to Blackweli's Island as often as he has, don't* mean no good in a crowd like this "He will bear watching, he will." "Sly Sam," as he was called, moved closer to the gentleman, who was read ing an evening paper. Tim, between the desire to get away with the money and the desire to pre vent a robbery, did not know what to do. While he lingered the train went on again. As it turned the curve into Murray Street, Tim saw the thief's baud slide into the banker's vest pocket. "He's going to do it,'"said Tim to himself in great excitement, "and I'd be doing it, too, if I went oft' with the money." "There'd lie two of us then." "I'll spoil Lis game, though," ami springing forward, he caught the bank er's sleeve with one hand and the thief with the other. "Say, mister," he shouted, "this here feller is a trying to hook your watch." Tim's words created a good deal of confusion, and people felt instinctively in their watch pockets. Some of the passengers seized "Sly Sam," while he himself, frightened ami very pale, tried effectually to prove his innocence by throwing the guilt upon I'im. At the next station the pickpocket was taken in charge by a policeman, and subsequently was given the oppor tunity to board, at the public's ex pense, at that favorite resort of charac ters of his type, Blackwell's Island. Wnen the confusion was over, and the banker saw that his watch was safe and uninjured, he turned to fiud the boy who had saved it. He had not far to look, for Tim was already by his side, and, before Mr. Montague had time to speak, the boot black cried out: "I say, mister, you're the gent whose boots I blacked the other night; and you gave me a two dollar'n a half gold piece instead of a cent. "Here it is," and Tim handed it over. Mr. Montague was silent for some seconds, while lie mechanically took the coin. "Well, my boy," lie said at length, kindly, "you've done me a service to night, andl won't forget it. "Suppose you cali at my ollice, No.— Wall Street, to-morrow?" "Then I can spek with you. "Ask for Mr. Montague." Tim said that lie would, and touching his bat left the banker to his paper. It was not long before the train reached the Bleeker street station where he had to get out. Brushing his way through the crowd ho hurried from the oar aud down the steps with a lighter purse than before, but with a lighter heart lieoause he had overcome his teuibtatiou. Tim colled on the morrow at Mr. Montague's, and was given a place a the banker's olllee, where by hard work he will no doubt rise until some day ho may himself mistake gold pieces for pennies. A Leap tor Uistiiy. A writer from Athens, Ueotgia, says we B'iw Joe Thurmond auu lie told us all about his escape from the Clarke cottniy Court House, hie (light to Canada aud his return when pardoned by Governor Colquitt. It is a thrillmg chapter. Haid Thurmond: "Iliad no idea ot a'tempting an escape when I was carried from Hie jail to the court house, hut had determined to die sooner than go to the penitentiary. But while sitting in my chair in Judge Jaek son's office a sudden desire seized me to make the attempt aud without stopping to consider for a moment or count the prob able cost I made a lwlt for the window, but some one caught my foot just as 1 was about passing through thai caused me to tall on my head aud receive a fearful shock. 1 then rushed for my horse, expecting each instant to be shot down in my trucks, but 1 intended to die rather than surren der. Due of Browning's bullets grazed my leg and passing through lite Bad- lie - skirt and blanket entered the sale ot the nag 1 was riding, After getting beyond range of the balls I headed toward Brook lyn: but when about two miles out of town the bor*e began to give way under me, when 1 rode out in a pine thicket to see what was the matter. Upon removing the saddle 1 discovered the " wouud, und knew that the beast could not carry me further. 1 turned it |.#ase and started for home on foot, aud by a circuitous route had to travel fourteeu miles bclorc getting there. But my leaving ihy horse behind saved me from capture, as the officers thought I was still hid out in the thicket aud so did not telegraph. 1 only remained home an hour—just long enough to get some money, bid my fatmly goodvbye and start for Lawrencevuhl tiiiriy uules distant. Taking my littio brotljer in the buggy we made the trip in just j three houis, but it nearly Killed the h<>rs4 I was driving. 1 traveled at night, passing through Jug Cavern, and met several nien ou tiie road that 1 knew, but as 1 hadlny hat slouched over my face they dul upt recognize me, not even my uncle, wlh>sa house i passed. Just as 1 drove into L|wrencevtlle the train was steamed up reacy to have and i got aboard. Had 1 heeii ten minutes later it would have left inc. 1 met with an other streak of good luck when 1 got to buwauuee, the junction with tue Air Line. 1 got from u!>oaid as soon as the ears btop{)ed ami stepping tuto a dark corner remained thereuntil the regular train came along, which was just ten minutes. 1 boarded the smoking-car, that was Lrlu uately unoccupied. When 1 got to Atlanta I did not wait for the tram to stop before 1 jumped off and secreted myself near the Chattanooga train, that the conductor told me would leave in ten minutes, i feared a telegram b id been sent ahead and was afraid to risk even buying a ticket, preferring to pay my tare to the conductor. 1 hail no way to disguise myself, as I was cleaniv shaved, and had to fake the chances, Just as the Western and Atlantic tram was moving off I jumped aboard aud soou left At- i lanta behind me. But i dreaded even stopping place, i x peeling to meet a tele gram. When Chauanouga was reached 1 lor the tirst time felt pretty safe, bu'. pushed ou to my destination, Cauada. Steamboat* in Venice. The little steamboats that now ply on the Grand Canal are the first tilings to arrest the traveler's attention when he re visits Venice. Till now, arrival at Venice has always been something unique and fascinating. Mr. Kussell, indeed, thought the fascination already gone when, instead of stealing up to the city in a gondola across the open lagoon, ho was driven by steam, and could only see the noble land scape of approach as the engino slackened its rushing on the irou line. But common place people found a good deal to say on the other side; and the suddenness of the contrast, as oue stepped out of the railway carriage iuto a bout to he rowed down the untrodden streets of the island city, per - haps enhanced the charm and strengthened the impression, Lord Beaconsfiold was certainly right in singling out the strauge quiet of the canals as the particular quality which made Venice unlike all other places. Bui these "vapporetti dl V enema" have changed the aspect ot things. They have two courses—one from the railway station to the public gardens, the other from the Kialto to the Piuzefta; and they run every ten or fifteen minutes, calling at several intermediate stations. For tho first day or two they were not popular, aud their enemies even began to hope with some confldeuce that they would die a natural death; but the Venetian public were se duced by the convenience of tliem, and now the boats are always well filled. 8) far, then, they must be admitted to hav justified their existence; but it is a pity that (bey do not bear their success more quietly. The captains seem to delight in turning on the steam whistle as if they were children playing with a new toy, and the whistles themselves are certainly 1111 nicies ot shrillness. Mr. ituskin diversi fled the pages of oue of the earlier chap ters of "Fors Ciavigera" by keeping count of tne number of whistles that proceeded frotu a steamer about to start for the Lulo, ud be counted seven during the writing of oue page, wlieu he gave up his wntiug m despair. But if he were to revisit his old quarters on the Grand caual njw, he would probably find it impossible to write at all. The steamers whistle in the ap proved fashion on arriving at aud depart iug from each station; they whistle us they approach the ferries, they whistle as often as they happen to see a boat ahead, and they whistle at other times in case ibere might be a boat ahead. Altogether they have imported a very noisy element iuto the life of the canal, and one need not be cursed with a peculiarly seusitive nervous organization to leel now unpleas ant ihe change is. It can no longer be said, as it was said in "Contarini Fleming," that in Veu.ce "no rude sound distracts the ear," or that "there is nothing to put HQcy to flight." r ,•*]>* For Liberty. A recaptured deserter f rom the United States Army, handcuffed anil secured to an iron tied stead with a chain of thick, heavy links, made his escape out of the third story of the (Jeueral Mounted Semce Recruiting. Rendezvous at Twentieth and Market streets, Philadelphia, recently. The escape was maile more wonderful from the fact of the fugitive carrying with him a lunre part of the bed-stead, from which he was uot able to disengage him self. He reached the ground in two leaps, one of fourteen and the other of twenty two feet. Not the slightest trace of him has been found. The piece of the led stoad, which weighs about lourteen pounds, has not been recovered, and from present indications there is no likelihood of a clue to either being struck. l<uidy ltoyle is the name of the dariug fugitive, lie is of Hibernian stock and uis birthplace is said to have been in Ire land. lie is twenty-two years old, live feel ten inches in height, and altogether well built, powerful and handsomely pro port ionei'. ilis relatives are divided m resideuee between Aileutowu and Phila delphia. Ou November 1 last he enlisted at the recruiting station which he has just left behind hiiu. Altogether lie seemed a desirable acquisition to the army, and in due course of time would have been sent to St. Louis aud thence further West to light the redskins. Pate conspired to lavor the latter, however and on Novcm tier 8 ltoyle, afier dutiiuily serviug his country tor a week, lost his military en thusiasm aud disappeared troiu the bar racks. The young women iu the neighbor hood had one soldier less to look at and the Department ol War one more to look alter, ltoyle immediately went to Aileu towu, w here he is well known i'he tact lha*, he was a deserter was as notorious as las light eouiplexioued lace aud light eyes, and none ventured to give him up and earn the ctandiug reward oi thirty dollars which is offered lor the ap prehension of escaped soldiers. Even the police of Alleniowu are said to have sym pathized with him and let him go un arrested. He got so bold that he walked about as if be hail never been a warrior, lie accosted one of the 4!lentowu detec tives and asked the loan of lit teen cents. The detective was just goiug to clap Koyle on the shoulder and arrest nun, but he re membered that ho had not the warrant, in reply to the deserter he replied souie- Wiiat ambiguously that he ** had not got it" aud hurried off as fast as he Could in the direction of the Sheriff's office "to get it." He got it, arrested his man and brought him to Philadelphia. When Royle reached the headquarters it was about three o'clock. His comrades welcomed him, Bald they were glad to see liUn, rushed hiin upstairs aud cbaiucd htm to the bed, posting a sentry outside to shoot him if he i ried to escape. As the window was so far above the ground It was uot thought necessary to take any precautious in that direction. The heavy tread ot the sentry auii the occasional bang of his musket on the lloor did their best to inform Koyle thai ho was not at a fair. As the exact chronology of his proceedings can only be told by himself a large part of them have to be guessed at. It is certain that he began by working some screws and divid lug the bedstead into two parts. It is thought that his next move was to tie it securely to his 'body, so that when he jumped neither he nor the bedstead should leach the ground lirst, which would have entailed considerable ioltiug. A lew scraps of rope which lie around the room tend to confirm this belief. The descent of the mau, hampered as he was by the piece of bedstead, which is some three teet by two and a hall leet square, seems aimout incredible. Underneath the window at a distance of fourteen feet is a slippery and infirm wooden shed belonging to the yard ot a house in the rear of the military rendez vous. He must have jumped on to this, which feat in itself was perilous. The roof is covered with moss and frost and looks anything but a safe resting-place. From the shed he evidently leaped on the hard bricks of the yard, twenty-two feet more. Tne yard is surrounded by a wooileu tence some eleven feet in height, which seems to be unclimbaMe even it the climber were not handcuffed and ac companied by a bedstead. It was just f o'clock wneu the escape was made. This was just the lime wbeu every one but the sentry was at tea. It was thought that ou reaching the ground ltoyle must have been •insisted by friends, It is impossible, however, that any one could have climbed up to the room from without. The wouder is thai Royle was not seen either by some one in the court at the rear or by persons in the houses. About a year ago ltoyle escaped from the police station at Allentown, where be was confined tor a trifling offence, in a similar way. Had he uot fled he would have been sent to the Jefferson Barracks, &t. Louis, aud iried by court-martial. The usual punishment is five or six years' imprisonment, which is generally reduced to half by the judge advocate. The de sertiou is the tilth this year in the district, m which Philadelphia is included. Tli> Habit of Fainting. There is not BO mnoh faiutiug in pub lic iia there was thirty years ago. Sound health, which necessarily secures the firm nerves and muscles, is the surest preventive of faintness. An exchange remarks that the majority of vigorous men go through all kinds of severe and painful experience without fainting, while delicate men and women swoon at trifles. American women, who used to faint continually—in crowds, at bad news, at scenes of distress—now faint comparatively seldom; and the fact is ascribed to their relinquishment, for the most part, of the habit of lacing, to their increased exercise in the open air, and their better physical conditions. Not one American woman faints to-day, where thirty years ago, twenty-five women fainted and the diminution of the disorder, always the result of direct causes, is an unmistakable evidence, which other things corroborate, of the marked amelioration of the health of the highly organized, extremely sensi tive, but flexible and enduring women 1 of our complex race. The Lire of a Pilot. The brotherhood of Delaware bay and river pilots is composed of about ninety active, sturdy, weather-beaten, danger-daring men, whose ages range between twenty five and seventy-five yearn, and some of whom have continu ously pursued their useful, even indis pensable, calling for nearly half a cen tury. The writer is fresh from a social chat with one of the oldest, best-known, and most experienced of these hardy men, who conduct vessels from the open sea through the dangerous shoals und wrecking spots of the Delaware bay and river, to their docks along the river front of the city of Philadelphia. The name of this old pilot is Lester D. Sokellinger, aud for over forty years he has been engaged m piloting vessels up aud down the Jlelaware river and bay, and his father did the same thing be fore him. For the past twenty years, however, he lias alternated piloting with being Captain of City Ice Boats. Cap tain Bchellinger resides at No. 120 (Jueen street, and it was there the wri ter received from him the information embodied in this article. Captain Schelliuger was asked:— "What is, the course of framing to qualify a niau to become a regular pilot?" "What we call 'pilot boys,'" was the response, "have to serve a regular ap prenticeship of six years to some old, experienced pilot. That is, they have to almost live on pilot-boats, and aio studying and observing all the time. Then they are required to make thirty two trips up and down the river and bay in square-rigged vessels before their time is out. After going through this the pilot-boy is taken before a commit tee of the Port Wardens and a board ot pilot-examiners, and if he is fouud to be bright and capable he obtains what we call a 'twelve-foot branch,' and he keeps that for eighteen mouths. He is then examined again, aud if found com petent he gets a 'first-class branch,' and is a full pilot. Most of the pilot-boys are sous of old pilots, and they have generally a natural aptitude for the business." "How are pilots licensed?" "The Pennsylvania pilots and Dela ware pilots are now working in opposi tion to each other to some extent. For over 100 years all the Delaware bay pilots obtained their licenses from the State of Pennsylvania, but the last Pennsjlvauia Legislature cut down the rates about 40 per cent., and then the Delaware pilots had a law passed giving them the old rates. When a pilot goes down stream he gets 53.00 per foot (water displacement). The highest rate up from the sea is £4.16 per foot and the loweet 53.75 per foot, and going down it is $13.00 per foot for ail vessels. Winter pilotage used to be $lO extra, but that is taken away now, although the Delaware pilots get the old winter rates yet. Pennsylvania pilots must work by Pennsylvania law." "How about pilot boats?" "There are four pilot-boats owned by Pennsylvania pilots. Two of them cost over $16,000 each and the other two $6,000 each. There are two Delaware boats, making six in all. When a pilot boat goes out she has a regular crew of six meu, and six pilots are allowed to go on her to hunt jobs. The first pilot on the list gets the first job, and the others follow in rotation. Sometimes in fair weather these boats go as far as sixty miles out to sea looking for incoming foreign vessels, but as a general rule they cruise about the Five Fathom Lightship. Tiiey remain on the watch day and night and in all kinds of weather. When a vessel takes on board a pilot he has full charge, and his pay is acoording to the draft of water of tiie vessel. That is, if the vessel draws 16 feet the pilot gets $4.16 per foot fioin 12 feet up, aud one-third of what he receives goes to the pilot-boat for her support. WheD a pilot takes a vessel out to sea he pays so.oo for what is called 'the take-off boat,' to bring him back to port again, if the vessel is a 20- feot boat, and he pays $4.00 up to 20 feet It costs considerable money to keep these pilot-boats in first-class con dition, and they must be kept in splendid order for the service tliey have to peiform." Alluding to the knowledge possessed by Delaware bay pilots aud the care and skill they have to exercise iu bring ing a vessel safely into port from the sea, Captain Sohellinger remarked: — "A regular pilot must be perfectly familiar with Delaware bay ami river from the Capes to the city. By day or night aud in all kinds of weather he must lie able to thread his way safely thruiigh the water aud #ith as much confidence as you would go along the street on the way to your home. The pilot must have a minute knowledge of every shoal', every channel, light houses aud lights of all kinds, sound ings, bearings, etc., in the bay and river, and lie must (so to speak) bo able to see the bottom as his vessel ploughs through the water, lie must be able to perfectly work a square-rigged vessel, and must have complete knowledge of everything connected with the tides." "Describe generally the pilotage of a vessel from the open sea outside the Capes to the port of Philadelphia." "When a pilot-boat while cruising sights a vessel signalling ior a pilot, ner skiff is lowered, and the pilot whose turn it JS is rowed to the vessel, and when once on board he takes* com maud. It is sometimes hazardous work to get from the pilot-boat to the vessel to be piloted, for you must remember the pilot is bound to answer the sum mons for his assistance, no matter whether it be day or night time, or whether the sea is rough or calm. Tno only thing that would prevent a pilot from taking the small boat and going to the vessel that needed him, would be the almost certainty that the boat could not live in the sea that might be run ning at tne time. A pilot, however, will take to the small boat and reach his boat in safety, when a less experi enced man would take it for granted that the boat would be swamped. Tha signalling for pilots at night time is done generally by what we call flash lights, which ean be seen four or five miles away, but steamers usually aem I up rockets when a pilot is wanted, am they can be seen a long way off fron the deck of the pilot-boat. When * pilot taken charge of a Teasel out at sea to bring her into port, he makes for the Five-Fathom Batik, out from the mouth of the bay, and on which there is a lightship. Then he looks for the 'MoCrea Shoal,' between the light-ship and the 'overfalls,' which spot is off Cape May at the mouth of the chaunel; but if south he guides for 'Fenwick's island Shoal,' twenty miles south of Henlopen. He must know just where dangerous places are by day and and he feels his way by night time by various bearings and the constant use of the lead, when inside the Capes there are numerous shoals on both sides to avoid, aud the compass and lead are constantly in demand. Be tween Cape May, or the 'overfalls' and Bombay Hook, the pilot encounter* the 'Browu Shoal,' on the west side, the 'Flogger Shoal,' on the same side, and on the eastern side/ above the •Brandywiue Shoal,' is the 'Mire Maul! Shoal,' and then the 'Cross Ledge Lighthouse and Shoal.' Then comes the 'Ben Davis oyster bed,' close to the channel on the east side, and just below Bombay Hook is the "Old John Shoal.' There is a light-house at Bombay Hook, and from the latter place to the port of Philadelphia are numerous shoals, all of which are well known to regular pilots." "How much can a regular pilot make per annum at the present rate?" "Pilots are not at ail well paid now when you consider the knowledge th*y must possess, and the exposed lives they lead. The rates are low, and about two years ago the merchants got a bill passed which reduced their pay about 40 per cent. A regular pilot now can scarcely average more than 8800 per aunuui, aud we used to make from 81,500 to 81,800 a year. It costs a great deal to keep tlie pilot-boats in oruer, and one of them has lately goue out on a cruise on which 8600 was spent for sails, riggicg, and necessary tilings of different kinds. For the past six months many pilots have not had more than one vessel per mouth, and some times they even cruise for two or three weeks at a time without getting a ves sel." "What age is the oldest active pilot?" "William Marshal is the oldest ac tive regular pilot, and he is past seventy live years of age, He goes out regularly, aud keeps in good physical condition. The old pilots, as a general thing, are tolerably hale, hearty men, and the mam trouble they have is rheumatism." "How about disasters, accidents, etc 9 '' "Disasters and accidents are quite rare now, aud I have known of none lor twenty years. Sometimes pilots get on yellow-lever vessels, and some of them have caught that disease. 1 have had charge of yellow-fever vessels more than once." A Western Ride. There are two of us—two women—scur rying along one of the razeed streets of a Territorial capital as fast as the shaggy, one-eyed pony attached to the wide seated phaeton could carry us, our destination a settlement twenty-Ave miles farther up the Missouri. It is midsummer of 1881 and the suu was lust rising as we reached the outskirts of the city. The air was 8 -It and cool, and fragrant with an odor dif fused by the blooming plains. Striking ihe prairie road, we sptd onward, leaving behind us the little white town, which lay nestled among the clustering hills, the clear, radiant sunrise dimmed only by the smoke of a river steamer rising dark against the rosy sky. it was lovely in its sum mer morning freshness, that green water leas sea, which spread with a mighty sweep away to the far, far nortL and the snowy ranges of the west. The hour, the air, and all this loveliness had a subtle etfoct upon my companion and myself. Leaning back in our seat, we permitted the horse to jog along as he chose while we sought to drink in the spir it of the scene, ao that we might remember it forever. The entire absence of fences, which the herd laws render unnecessary, inspires one with the same delightful sense of freedom .as being far out upon the deep with no land in sight. Sometimes we saw a diminutive farm house, which looked as though it might have tumbled from the clouds, so solitary and out of place it seemed. There it stood without a vine to shelter it, —a target for the midsummer sun, a toy for the winter tempests. But the sturdy, brave hearted pioneer may look from his door and see fortune smiling at him from his broad, fertile acres. Ah. what possibilities lie in that glorious coun try! A hundred and sixty acres of the best land IU the world may be had by the man who is courageous enough to set his face to the western suu and there turn the vir gin soil. There is room for all in that broad, new country, and secure prosperity for those who press on to these goals with stout hearts and unflinching purpose. The Violin. Recent writers trace tlie origin of the violin to the Indian Ravauastron, yet played by the poor Buddhist monks, Avho go begging from door to door, ami it is traditionally believed to have beeu the invention of Havana, King of Cey lon, 5000 B. C. From the Ravauastron sprang the goudok of Russia and the craw til of Wales—the latter in use be fore the sixth century—both of which seem to have differed from the later instruments of the same tribe in having the upper surface of the bridge *flat, so that all the strings had probably to be sounded at once. The yiol was the more immediate precursor of the violin and of its relatives of deeper pitch the violoncello and the double bass. Cham bers's Cyclopaedia says. "The viol is to be seen represented on monumeuts as far back as the close of the eleventh century. Violins were mentioned as early as 1200 in the legendary life of St Christopher. Thy were introduced into England, some say, by Charles II." Keep such company as God keeps. Old foxes are caught at last. Open doors invite thieves. Fretting cares create gray hairs. Keep your hand ont of the fire, and yourself out of quarrel. NO. 3.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers