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.