PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY IN ) MUSSER'S BUILDING, Corner of Msin nnd Penn fits., at SI.OO PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE: Or $1.20 if not paid in *dvanc. Accept Corrsspondenec Sdicitel UF~Ad.lrei3 all letters to iMILLHEIM JOURNAL." Woman's Voice. Not in the swaying of die summer trees, When evening breezes sing their vesper hymn— Not the minstrel's mighty symphonies, Nor ripples breaking on tie riven's brim, Is earth's best music; these nuy have awhile High thoughts in happy hearts and irking cures beguile. But even us the swallow's silken wings, Skimming the wn'or ol the sweeping lako, Stir the still silver with a hunil.ed lings— So doth one sound the sle.-| ing spirit wake To bravo the danger ami to bear the harm— A low and gentle voice—dear woman's ehiel est charm. An excellont thing it is! and ever lent To truth and love, and meekuess; they who own This gift, by the all „r n ions (liver sent, Evei by quiot step and smile are known; By kind eyes that havo wept, hoaits that lmte Borrow'd. An excellent thing it is—when first in glad nes* — A mother looks into her infant's eyor— Smiles to its smiles, and saddens to its sad ness- Pales at its paleness, sorrows at its cries; I s food and sleep, and smiles an 1 little joys— All these come over Llout with one^low, -gentle voice. An excellent thing it i* when life is leaving— Leaving with gloom and sadness, joys and cares— The strong heart falling, and the high soul grieving With strongest thoughts and wild, unwonted fears; Then, then a woman's low, soft sympathy Coiucs like an ongel's voice to teuch us how to die. But n most excellent thing it is in youth, When the loud lover hears the loved one's tono Unit ftnrs, hut longs, to si liable the truth— How ti.eh- two hearts are one, and sho h'.s own; It makes sweet human music—oh! the spells That h unit the trending tale a bright-eyed maiden teils. — UJuin Arnold, "A Desperate Character." AN ADVENTURE IN LONDON. I went to Covent Garden theater one night last season. "We were let out at 12, and set off to my lodgings. I knocked; there was no answer. 1 knocked again; a window was thrown up and my landlady's head appeared. "Who are you ?" she screamed. "Let's in, please; it's me!" I an swered. "Then, Mr. Me, if you don't come home before 10 you may still out till mornin'. I never wait up for my lodgers—my door is closed at 10!" and then the window closed with a bang. "Xo go!" thinks I. "I have no money, I'll go to a railway-station and wait in the waiting-room till morning;" which resolution 1 proceeded to carry out by walking briskly for the bank. I turned into Moorgate street, and WAS just thinking whether I should go to London, Brighton and South Coast or the London Bridge station. I slopped to think. There was a con fectioner's shop just in front of me. Oh! that it were open! 1 had three pence left. Just at this moment a tall, broad shouldered man came up to me and viewed me from top to toe. 1 looked at him. lie was dressed in dark clothes; a pea jacket and clap-trap cloth hat, with a peak lying level on the forehead, gave me a feeling of awe. The thought forced itself upon uie that he was a garotter. lie spoke first. • You're Mr. Sam?" and he laid his 3nger on his nose. "You've guessed it," said I, thinking It best to agree with him, although my name was Tom. "Then come along!" and away we went. "Did Butler give ye e'er a pistol?'' he asked. "No," said 1, beginning to tremble. "He said he wanted them himself." "Just like him. He told I'd find pou standing at Moorgate street, be tween 12 and 1, opposite the confec tioner's, with your right hand in your pocket." "I'm in for it," thinks 1. "but I must through with it. I hit whatever will it come to at all, at all V" He led me through a labyrinth of streets, walking rather fast, till we emerged upon the city road. Then he made straight for the Angel, and from thence took a cab for Fleet street. What object he had in doing this I cannot say. He did not offer to ex plain; in fact, not a word passed be tween us till we got out at the top-of Ludgate hill. From thenco we went into a back Btreet, and out of that into another, no matter which, and suddenly stop ping opposite a shop, he ex claimed: "That's our crib!" "Is it?" says I. Whereupon he produced from his pocket a rule. The shop was evident ly a tailor's, as it had bars standing out like the rungs of a Jacob's ladder, from each side of the door, to exhibit stock upon. My friend stepped on the first of these, which was throe feet from the ground, and speedily measured Iht falgbt Qt ft Urge gl/m fanlight over DETNTNGER & BUMILLER, Editors and Proprietors. VOL. LVII. the door; then, stepping down again, he measured the breadth of tho door, and as the fanlight was square he mut tered to nio byway of giving me its dimensions: "Three and a half by two high!" and chuckled quietly. Then he crossed the road, and 1 fol lowed, he explaining that we must wait till the policeman passed, lie hove in sight about ten minutes after wards, while we walked past him. Then we waited till he returned. This time we did not pass him, but watched from a corner at a distance. "Twenty minutes and a half between going and coming," exclaimed my com panion. "And a handy heat; for he comes up the corner there"- pointing to one a little beyond the shop - "and goes down this street next ours." The impression began to steal over me that I was committing, or helping to commit, a felony, and that if caught I might get into trouble. 1 thought of running for it; but the remark my companion made at that moment, to the effect that it would be a short run if 1 deserted him (for he seemed to see I didn't like tho job), dctcrrid me. I dared not explain that he had ma le a mistake, for I felt sure tkat he must have mistaken mo for some allv of his own. "I must go through with it," thinks I. "He'll leave me outside to watch, and I'll hook it then?" Sol went on. lie crossed the street again the mo ment the policeman was past interfer ing with us, and producing a piece of stout black cloth he applied the rule thereto, I holding it against the shutters, while he set out "three and a half by two" thereon. This done, he cut it within two inches of tho mea surement all round, and then produc ing a treacle-pot from his pocket, he smothered one side of the cloth with treacle, and, desiring me to hold it, he mounted tho shop-door, so to speak, again; and I gave him the cloth, which he immediately clapped on to the sky light, the treacle making it adhere firmly to the glass. Then, looking at his watch, he cried: "By j ngo! he'll 1 ehere this minute!' l and away we walked. A glance be hind us, as we turned the next corner. Not yet in sight! "We stopped and waited, but the policeman came not. My friend muttered an oath, adding, "I'll go. Come along; but keep your weather-eye open!" And off we went. "Perhaps he is watching us," I sug gested. But the idea was discarded as not in the nature of a policeman "like that one wc saw." "We arrived at the shop. lie mounted again, and drove a string through a hole in the cloth. Then he ran a dia mond round the edge of the glass. A gentle pat, and it gave way. Now I saw the use of the cloth and string. He could hold the glass by the string; and he slowly let it down into the shop, and, producing a long-shaped pad, he laid it along the bottom of the fanlight to cover the glass edge, and threw one leg into the opening and got astride of it! "Follow me," ho muttered, and ducked his head under the door-head. But before he could draw in the other leg I mounted the ladder, and, seizing it, gave him a pull that kept him from going in, at the same time yelling, "Police! Thieves! Murder! Police!" at the top of my voice. And, lo and be hold! the policeman appeared at the corner at that moment. A horrible oath from within, a pistol-bullet whistling past my head, and I ran for death and life. I did not stop till 1 found myself in Broad street. In the next day's papers I saw the account of the capture of a burglar by one policeman, who had watched two burglars from the corner, and saw one enter the house, and the other leap up the wall like a cat, grab at a disappear ing leg, and yell "Police!" and run. The one that was caught got seven years' penal servitude, and "the police are searching vigilantly, though a; yet unsuccessfully, for the other, who, it appears, is a desperate character!" They never caught him.— Cassell. Bachelor Life in Turkey. Botli state and church combine to make the life of a Turkish bachelor miserable. As long as his parents are alive, he can live with them without much trouble. As soon as they die lie must get a permit from the civil and religious authorities before he can be admitted to any household. Then the proprietor thereof, in the interest of public morals, must see to it that other persons than females wait upon his boarder. If the bach elor be rich enough to occupy a house or to rent unfurnished chambers, he cannot possibly obtain that simple privilege unless he shows that a woman of good repute lives with him therein. A mother or sister or aunt removes that difficulty." But a man without kindred may go an indefinite period without a hmv, DOME LIFE IN PARIS. Pconllarltlm of tho I'urlilniii.-llon IVopic Live in tlio French Capital. This picture of home life in Paris is given by a writer in the Decorator and Finisher: Wherever one sees a yellow bill upon the door of a Parisian house he may he tolerably certain of discover ing within a neat apartment, well furnished, having at least a bed-room, a parlor, a dining-room, a kitchen, and usually an ante-room into which the entrance door opens. Tho windows, extending to the Moor, are hung with lace and stuff curtains; the doors have portieres upon cither side, rugs, as a rule, take the place of carpets, the bed Is under the protection of a canopy, even if it be no more than muslin, and a heavy wardrobe, with a full length mirror in the door, is often the point de resistance in the room. A showy silk down quilt is thrown over the bed, and a bolster of huge proportions rests at the hea l. The top of the mattress averages three or four feet from the Moor, and suggests the advantage of step ladders and the utter discomfort of little people. The peculiarity, how ever, of the French bed is its restful quality, for it is so whether it be found iu the l'alace of the Llvsee or a third- rate apartment house on Montmatre, in the Hotel de L'Athence, or the most provincial of pensions. The elasticity of prices in the rent ing of apartments is wonderful. -V Frenchman pays soo a month fer a nicely furnished llat in the Palais lioyal, or, we will say, in the neighbor hood of Trinity church, taking the two extremes of localities, and an Ameri can tourist gladly pays SSO for the same accommodations. If the lessee is fortunate and rents from a family that may be going to Vichy for a few months, he possibly can arrange for silverware, linen, and crockery, but if this is denied him, he will linda most agreeable company organized for the very purpose of supplying the transient resident with all the necessary appur tenances of housekeeping, at a price that allows one to display a magnifi cence approaching royalty at the most economical outlay. A bonne may be had at $7 per month, one of those smart French girls that does every thing from cooking the meals to dress, ing her mistress, and who insists upon doing it. Seven dollars, be it under stood, is nut starvation pay, it is muni ficence, and one may expect from such a girl all the esthetic cooking of the French repertoire—peas, not as we have them in this country, yellow and hard, but deliciously sweetened, tender as cream. The bonne does all the marketing, wrangles with the trades people, and hands in her account every day or week. Of course she has a percentage from the stor< s, but who would begrudge that to get rid of the intolerable nuisance of shopping? A stroll 011 the boulevards, a visit to the Jardin d'Acclimation, a ride to the Bois de Boulogne, by the way of the Champs Elysee, all these are pleasures, and combine with the attractive fur nishings of the house to make one forget the annoyances he is subjected to and the crude and primitive domes tic surroundings he is called upon to endure. lie is induced to forget that on his way home he may be run over by a vicious cab driver and then arrest ed for being in the way of the horses, for, of course, in Parisian streets vehicles have the right of way. The concierge is an important factor in French life. If one fails to "come down" with the proper amount of subsidy in the shape of "pour boire" the concierge, whose place is at the en trance to his building, takes very good care that his close-fisted tenant doe 3 not receive his mail, certainly until one day after its delivery at the door, and his visitors are informed that he is "not at home," when in truth he is await ing their coming in his rooms. Should the tenant protest to the landlord, his lifo will thereafter be miserable, a suc cession of ills and terrors that will finally drive him from the house, to look for other apartments. But he is known to every concierge in the city, and, despite the flaming yellow poster that announces from the outer wall there is an apartment to let, lie meets everywhere the one reply, "There is nothing here sir," and if, perforce, ho does get into the building the price is placed at such a figure as to put it beyond the reach of the tired and discouraged searcher. After one ex perience of this sort the traveler either succumbs to the inevitable and pays up like a man, or else, with what courage he has left, he goes off to Switzerland and freezes on Mount Blanc, or to Home and gets the fever. Of course, where there are few carpets the floors must be kept in good condition, so a man comes every week and waxes the boards, and skates about on them with stiff brushes tied to his feet. A contented spirit is the sweetness of existence, MILLUFJM, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 12,1883. A Foot-Washing Ceremony. A PAPER FOR THE HOME CIRCLE. "You never saw a foot-washing?" said tho Rev. Joseph Bowen, a Baptist minister from Tennessee, toaSt. Louis reporter. "Then you could not have traveled much in the backwoods sec turns of the South and Wtst. 1 remem ber seeing one at Randolph, Tenn., in June, 1877. Randolph is in Tippon county on the Mississippi bluffs. 1 had to stay there over Sunday, and learning that there was a meeting at Salem chureh, six miles away, 1 borrowed a horse and rode to the place. The chureh, built of logs, with the 'cracks' daubed, sat back about 100 yards from the road in the middle of a grove. In side, the seats were all pretty well Idl ed, and every head in the chureh turned as I entered. 1 shrank into a corner and took a scat as quickly as possible* In front there were a few benches ma le of unvarnished poplar, but the supply falling short the demand had been met by planks laid on boxes. On one of these I sat down next to a port ly lady dressed in a cotton gown with broad yellow checks. The minister had well earntd his reputation of being a 'powerful exliorter,' as I found when he commenced his sermon. As he wanned to his work he walked rapidly from side to side of the pulpit, stopping occasionally, as in a thunder ing voice he warned his unconverted hearers that they were 'hanging over hell-lire by a single hair,' to deal re sounding blows to the Bible with his lists byway of emphasis. "When he concluded he took a long crash towel and girded it around his waist. At the side of the pulpit was a bucket of water and a 'noggin.* If you don't happen to know what a noggin is 1 may explain that it is a small tub a size larger than a piggin. This one had been constructed by sawing a whisky keg in half. When tlie preach er commenced pouring the water into it an old gentleman in the amen cor ner commenced pulling off his brogans and rolling up the bottoms of his trousers. "'Will some brother raise a hymn?' asked the minister, and the brother, who now had his shoes off and was en gaged with his home-knit cotton SOCKS. raised one: "I am a Soldier of the < ross.'" and as the congregation joined lie put both feet in the noggin, which had been set before him. The preacher squattisl down in front of him, rubbed his hands around over the feet and up and down his shins half way to the knee. "When the brother thought they were washed enough, he held tliein up out of the water, and the par son wiped them on the crash towel. Then the parson sat down, and, having pulled off his shoes, had his feet wash, ed by the brother to whom he had just ministered. All who wished to join in the ceremony had taken posses sion of tlie front seats —the mourners' benches. Among those who had gone up had been the portly sister by whom I snt. The noggin came to her next and she washed the feet of the sifter next to her, having her own washed in turn. When all the feet on the front seat had been bathed, the water in the noggin was emptied out the back door and a fresh supply brought in from the well near the church. The noggin passed around from brother to brother and from sister to sister for an hour, and in that time 1 saw more varieties of feet than 1 have ever seen before or since." Wonders of the Ocean's Depths. As to the quantity of light at the bottom of the sea there has been much dispute. Animals dredged from below 700 fathoms either have no eyes, or faint indications of them, or else their eyes are very large and protruding. Crabs' eyes are four or five times as large as those of a crab from surface water, which shows that that light is feeble, and that eyes to be of any use must be very large and sensitive. An other strange thing is that where the creatures in those lower depths have any color it is of orange or red, or red- dish orange. Sea anemones, corals shrimp and crabs have this brilliant color. Sometimes it is pure red or scarlet, and in many specimens it in clines toward purple. Not a green or blue fish is found. The orange red is the fish's protection, for the bluish green light in the bottom of the ocean makes the orange or red fish appear of a neutral tint and hides it from ene mies. Many animals are black, others neutral in color. Some fish are pro vided with boring tails so that they can burrow in the mud. Finally, the surface of the submarine mountain Is covered with shells, like an ordinary sea beach, showing that it is the eat ing-house of vast schools of carnivor. ous animals. A codfish takes a whole oyster into its mouth, cracks the shells, digests the meat and spits out the rest. Crabs crack the shells and suck out the meat. In this way come wliole mounds of Bhells that are dredged up. -Fro feuor VwrtlU COAL MINERS. llow Tliry I'rovlilr for tl Willow* mul Orphan*.—.Harrying Out of Oeuero.ily. A correspondent writing from Wilkcsbarre, l'a., says: Accidents in the collieries of the middle district of the anthracite coal fields, of which this city is the center, made hist year nearly one hundred widows and over live hundred orphans. J Jut notwithstand ing the frequency of fatal accidents and the ahsenee of any organized chari ty, the larders of the widowed families are never empty, none go naked, the household fires are not extinguished and the little home is never stripped hy a landlord's warrant. Kind hands see that food is provided each day, and the men returning from their work in the mines do not forget to carry to the widow's home a lump of anthracite for the next day's use. Communism in a peculiar sense prevails among the coal miners of Pennsylvania. The lucky divide with the unlucky as readily and as cheerfully as if they belonged to one family. However much all may quarrel on abstract questions of poh" tics or religion, all discussions are dropped at the appeal of charity. While, as has been said, no organ ized relief societies exist among the colliers, there is a general system in vogue which does its work well and promptly. Every printing ollice in this region is visited weekly by persons wanting ra!lle tickets. These tickets cost one dollar a hundred, and are headed "Hafile for a cooking stove," or clock, bureau, quilt, table, or some other article of domestic use. It is an nounced that the raflle is for the bene, lit of a widow or injured miner, and on the "night after pay day." The price of the ticket is generally fifty cents. The radio is in charge of a committee whose names appear on the ticket. Take the ease of a woman > for instance, lately made a widow. She has been left penniless, us miners' widows usually are. Everybody un derstands this, and the hundred tickets are promptly disposed of among the miners, who pay for them on pay day. On that night the wido.v gets SSO cash. The night of the rafile comes, and, pos sibly, one-fifth of the ticket holders assemble. A fiddler, a keg of beer, and a little "hard shtuff" form the ele. incuts of the entertainment. The young lads join in a dance with the lasses, the old men sup and smoke their pipes, and the old women recount the virtues of the deceased miner. About midnight the raille begins. The names of the ticket purchasers are put into a hat and well shaken. Whoever secures the prize at onco turns it over to the beneficiary. The company breaks up happy over the good time they have had, and the kind deed they have (lone. That SSO goes a long way in keeping the shadows from the little house. It will sometimes pay a whole year's rent, and it only re quires one or two more rallies to keep the victor's poor larder stocked, for it must he understood that potatoes, cab bages, and meal, form the staple arti cles of diet in these humble homes. A year is a long time for a comely and thrifty woman to remain a widow at the mines, no matter how many children she may have. Jim is killed to-day, and possibly before the summer ends, Jack, who was Jim's best friend* insists upon marrying Jim's widow Jim's babies become his. And if you go below the surface you will find the foundation of Jack's action to le pure charity. It is a matter of record that when the terrible Avondale disaster occurred so many widows and helpless ones were left that the matter of caring for the former speedily was discussed- It was quickly settled by propositions of marriage, and within a very short time after the calamity the household of every victim was protected. This same spirit exists in every mining community to-day, and is a shield against much distress. Efforts have been made from time to time to induce the miners to abandon a custom that prevails among them. Whenever a man is killed in a mine while at work, every man in the col liery where the accident occurs stops work. Frequently 1500 employes turn out and remain out for two days. There appears to be a 4eep superstition that prompts that peculiar exhibition of respect for the dead. Still Even. On Montcalm street recently a boy was leading a goat around by a rope, when a pedestrian asked if he wanted to sell the animal. "Course not, we just got him," was the reply. "What did you want of a goat?" "Nothing much. We bought him to get ahead of the Browns, who have a fox, but they've gone and got even again." "How?" "Why, three of the family have been mesmerized, and Johnny has had two teeth filled."—Mrivt Vm Prm Terms, SIOO Per Year in Advance. THE FAMILY DOCTOR. l'nslluK as n Cure fur IChenmatlam. Dr. Tanner's heresy may yet become the creeil of regular practice. Tanner claimed that fasting was a good hygienic cure for many forms of blood disease, and now I)r. Wood, of the medical department of Bishop's college- Montreal, reports fasting as a cure for acute rheumatism. Plenty of water 01 lemonade was allowed but no medi cines were given, and from the goo* results obtained in fasting from fou to ten days Dr. Wood is inclined t believe that rheumatism is only a phase of indigestion.— Dr. Foote's Health Monthly. l(eiit<o; i All my loved oues there are waking, waiting, looking o er the seu; And in patience sweet are wutching, O! my ship for thee und rne. 1 : rUXBEXT PARAGRAPHS Medical query—Was the eye-lash designed for brow-beating? Flattery is called "taffy" because it makes a man feel awfully "stuck up." There is a marked difference between getting up with the lark and staying up to have one. When the lien with chickens at tacked the small boy in his mother's yard, the hen informed him she had been laying for him for some time. i A note made on Sunday is void; which may account for men sleeping all through church service, and mak ing no note of what the preacher says. A young child in Oregon died from the effects of swallowing the leaves of an almanac. We always held that | dates should be eaten in small quanti ! ties. When a certain bachelor was mar ried in Philadelphia, members of the Bachelor club broke him up by sending him as a weduing present a copy of "Paradise Lost." It is a glorious thing to have been bcrn a. man. One doesn't have to bother himself for a month over the plans and specifications of a new j spring bonnet. He simply has to foot the bill when the thing is bought A little bright-eyed boy, upon hear ing his father read the story of Joan of Are, was greatly moved by lier sad trials; but when the part was reached where she was about to be burned to j death at the stake, the poor little fel low could not contain himself any longer, but sobbingly clutched his pa rent's arm, and, with big tears running down his plump little cheeks, cried. "But, —papa, wh—e—re were the po lice ' Henry Clay Quoting Shakespeare. Henry Clay, who left a seat in tlu Senate for one in the House, but afte many years' service at the other end c the capital returned to the Senat chamber, exercised a powerful control over the politics of the republic. Idol ized by the Whig party, liis wonderful powers of personal magnetism, and his rich, manly voice,would enable him : to hold an audience for hours. He made but little preparation, and used but few notes in speaking; but when he wrote out his remarks for the press his manuscript was remarkably neat without interlineations or blots. ll* seldom indulged in classical allusions and his occasional attempts to mak* quotations of English poetry we:* generally failures. On one occasion he used the well-known phrase from 1 Hamlet, "Let the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung," but mis quoted the last syllable, calling it "un strung." The gentlemen who sat oc either side of him noticed the error t and simultaneously whispered "un wrung." This double prompting con fused "Young Ilarry of the West." who straightened himself, and witb stronger emphasis repeated "unhung.'* This raised a general laugh, at the close of which Clay, who had mean- While ascertained his mistake, shook his head, and said with one of his in imitable smiles: "Ah! murder will out! Uuwrung's the word." The fascina ° # tion which he exercised over all wiis ■ whom he had personal intercom ss, even his political adversaries, was x markahle; but he was imperious an". domineering, exacting unconditional and unqualified support as the price o* his friendship.— Jlen Ferley Foot* ii I tto Iffy Ship.