PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY IN MUSSER'S BUILDING, Corner of Main and Penn Sts., n< SI.OO PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE; Or $1.36 if not paid in advance. Acceptable Correspondence Solicited, ! £j6T"Addrese all letters to "MILLHEIM JOITBNAL." Good Night. A BOKO. Good nljrht, my love, g>od ni<;ht. The tt\ inkling stre he had assented. How would he bear to spend the long evening oppo site that disappointed, wistful little face? It began, too, to dawn upon him that "the whole cantonment"— which in India, where private life is mo e distinctly public property than in any other corner of the world, stands for our esteemed old friend, Mrs. Grundy—might, as has ever been its •„'ont, put an unkind construction on motives it did not understand; might hint that he was not so much standing by his principles—which in fact, he had yielded—as avenging his own of- L nded dignity. The result of all which cogitation was that if, on his re turn home, he should find that she had accepted both disappointment and re buke in a proper spirit, much, indeed all, dependent on that—she should go with their friends to the ball; or even in ..if probable event of their having already called, he would show his mag nanimity by taking her himself. Just then a carriage drove swiftly past his; ht recc£nl£cd it to be the Hills's, and i Ik itlilllirim Journal. DEINTNGER & BUMILLER, Editors and Proprietors VOL. LVII. in it—could he credit his senses?—all radiant with smiles, wrapped in her new cloak, sat his wife, who, in merry defiance, kissed her hands to him as they passed. Rotli ball and theatricals were de lightful, and none enjoyed them more than the volatile and fascinating Mrs. Morton. In the gayety of her spirits she confided to one after another of her dearest friends her husband's threat: and to one or two who ex pressed some fear that he might carry it out she laughingly replied that she did not think that that would be at all likely; but in the event of anything so improbable, she had still her palanquin, in which she could rest till gun-fire, when, of course, the house would l>o opened. 1 am told that nowadays palanquins are in as little request in India as se dan chairs in England; but in Dr. and Mrs. Morton's time—for know, 0 read er, that my story is founded ou fact— they were, except in the evening drive, the most general mode of carriage. In the veranda of every house one or more might always be seen, with their bearers at hand, ready for instant ser vice by day or by night. It was past 2 o'clock when Dr. Mor ton heard, coming down the compound, the moaning monotonous cry of the bearers who carried their mistress to her home. Placing the palanquin in the veranda, they called loudly for admission, striking the door with their hands, in no small wonder that it had not, as usual, been thrown wide at their approach. Expectation of the coming triumph had driven sleep from his pillow; and he now turned his head with a grim smile, for his revenge was at hand—the little rebel should learn a lesson never to be forgotten. To the bearers' voices was soon ad ded that of their mistress's; indignant ly, entreatingly, coaxingly she called in turn. She reminded her husband that their veranda was overlooked from the road "Let me in, I beg, 1 en treat of you, William. It will be gun tire in a couple of hours, and if seen here I shall be the laughing-stock of the whole station. O William, dear, do let me in!" To which her husband answered sternly, "We shall not rest under the same roof this night;" and he chuckled to himself, for he only intended to keep her waiting a few minutes. For a moment Mrs. Morton seemed irresolute; then having said a few words to the head bearer, she cried aloud in a passionate burst of sobs, "I will sooner die than submit to such hu miliation;" and, followed by her ser vants, she rushed away. There was a long wailing cry—a shriek—a heavy splash. Good heavens! could it be—could it be possible that his impetuous wife had thrown her self into the well ? Hark to those wild cries as the hearers run hither and thither with loud exclamations and calls for help. Paralyzed with fear, the husband could with difficulty open the door; then rushing out he would have flung himself into the still rippling water, in a mad attempt at rescue, had not a bearer hung upon his ann, as, in broken English, he tried to explain that his mistress was safe. "Then where is she? What is all this row about? Who has fallen in? What are you till yelling for?" "For Meru Sahib tell, 'throw big stone down well;' then too much bob bery make; run this way, that way— plenty great tamasha. Mem Sahib make big cry, then Mein run away.' Dr. Morton knew himself outwitted, for doubtless his wife had taken ad vantage of the door she had thus sue. ceeded in opening. Ah, well, though vexed at the trick, he was by no means sorry that the conflict was at an end, and that they should both pass what remained of the night in peaceful rest. He dismissed the bearers, and returned to the house, but to find it shut! the door was closed, and obstinately re sisted all efforts to open it; while a voice from the window from which he had himself so lately spoken, said> "We shall not sleep under the same roof this night." The doctor, with an uneasy laugh, first treated the situation as a silly joke, then expostulated, then stormed; but all without avail or even notice. He called to the ayah to open the door; but her answer was that she was locked in Mem's room, and Mem had the key under her pillow. Ife stamped at first with anger, but soon with cold, for his night pyjamas offered slight protection against the chill morning air. At length seeing the palanquin, he got into it. The lovely cloak was lying on the cushions; he drew the hood over his head, its deli cate hues in striking contrast to his sunburned face and disheveled hair and dragging it round his broad shoulders with an angry tug, settled himself to sleep. # The gun had fired, the "assembly" sounded, but still the doctor slept on. Nor was he roused by the sound of horses' hoofs, as a bevy of ladies, un escorted except by servants, rode uj to the door. They would he joined ii their ride by their husbands after par ade; and then, after a final round ol the course, assemble at the house ol one other of their party to chota-haz zarie and a lively discussion of absent friends. In much surprise they waited a min ute or so before the closed and silent house; then, with significant glances, one after another slid from her saddle, determined to solve the mystery. Ah. there it is! A little corner of the cloak worn the night before by Mrs. Morton pooped out of the closed door of the palanquin; 'twas evident that the poor litt JO thing had been obliged to seek that shelter. "What a shame!*' They would speak to her, they would com fort her, and oh, what a laugh they would have against her! They grouped themselves round the palanquin, bend ing low to peer in; and one on either side drew back the sliding doors as— gracious!—Dr. Morton, still half asleep, slowly opened his eyes. Most effectual ly was lie wakened by the startling ex clamation with which the visitors hastily retreated to their horses, which they were just in the act of mounting as the door was thrown open, and Mrs. Morton appeared in her riding-habit They immediately rode away, to the infinite satisfaction of the recumbent but impatient doctor, who was in mor tal fear that fresh complications might arise through his unexplained absence from duty bringing message of inquiry. At the meeting of husband and wife we would rather not play fly in the corner, but take for granted that there was the usual amount of tears, recrimination and hysterics, in which —for this occasion only—a torn and crumpled fabric of pink and silver took an active part; the sight of i from time to time stimulating Mrs Morton's grief and eloquence, while her husband, who, smarting the expose of the morning, had entered on the fray with unusual spirit, soon found himself vanquished, limp and utterly dismayed, as his own inconsistent, tyrannical and selfish conduct was contrasted—not for the first time— with the patient endurance of his long suffering wife. Neither of this nor of the reconcilia tion that followed in natural sequence, shall we make record; but we must of the pleasing fact that, at the very next concert, Mrs. Morton, leaning 011 her husband's arm, appeared in most ex cellent spirits, her cloak, this time of amber and gold, being admired by all beholders.— London Kocit ty. S;igo and Tapioca. Sago and tapioca differ in value ma terially, as was shown recently in a lawsuit between merchants of the Pa cific coast. The difference is explain ed in the plants and in the cost of pro duction. The sago tree is a palm, twenty-live feet high. Il grows in the marshes of Singapore and elsewhere in China, where plantations of one thous and acres are often seen. A -"ago palm is not ripe for its first and on. 1- , harvest till fifteen years from the plantii.g. Its diameter is then some twenty inches. The harvester works on a shilling plank in the swamp, and fells the tre* cl*se to the ground. The bark being removed the body of the tree consists of soft pith, which is broken and ground in water while the pulp is be ing stirred. Transferred to a vat, the starch is precipitated and the water drawn oft, after which the starch is dried and ground into the sago flour of commerce. Chinese tapioca differs essentially. The plant grows fifteen feet high, and fruits in two years; otherwise it i:s not unlike the potato. Every motion is the same as in the potato field. Grasping the plant its huge bunch of massive roots is shaken and taken to mill, where, being washed and stripped by machinery, the tapioca of commerce is made as sago is precisely. •Space in the Universe. The nearest of the fixed stars is twenty trillions (20,000,000,000,000) \ of miles distant from us. The next in distance is four times farther removed. If we attempt to fix an average dis tance for the surrounding group of fixed stars nearest our system, we could not safely give it a radius of less than four hundred trillions of miles. Yet what does this involve? Light, which reaches us from the sun in eight and a half minutes, would take seventy years in . its journey across this vast domain of space. If the volume of space included within our solar system were occupied with one huge sphere of 5,600,000,000 miles diameter, even such a mighty mass would be but as a float ing feather in the marvelous spread of empty space surrounding. This space would contain twenty-seven hun dred trillions of such spheres, and would contain the material contents of our solar system a number of times in dicated by the figure 5 with twenty two ciphers annexed. MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 19, 1883. •V A PAPER FOR THE HOME CIRCLE. RELIGIOUS. Those who would let anything take the place of Christianity, must first abolish all sorrow from the earth. Re as a little child. Children have no cares; all is managed for them, and they rest safe and happy in their fath er's care. We must choose between the ro mance of man and tho mysteries of God. God only reveals himself through many a veil, but those veils are not falsehoods. The apostlo John did not believe in divorces for religion's sako. When he baptizesi Chrysippa, tho wife of the governor of Patnios (says Prochorus), she would have forsaken her unbeliev ing husband at once; but the aged apostlo told her it must not be. He had a commission, lie said, to join her to Christ, but none to separate her from her husband, and lie commanded her to return to her house again. Life is of worth only as we men and women witness for something. Proto plasm is a high type of life compared to the man who lives only for self. Smaller than an atom is the man who finds center and circumference in self- Less than a cipher in value is the soul that stands alone, and finds 110 great principle or truth as a unit alongside which to place itself. The coil of wire stretched across a state becomes the highway of thought when it yields to electricity; a man becomes the medium of God's thought jwhen insulated from the world, and witnessing for Christ. Itr Calm. Life is to a great extent what we make it, and 110 life is set to sweet mu sic all along its path. How much bet ter. then, to take it just as we find it the bitter with the sweet, the disa greeable with the agreeable, the sun shine with the shqdow, accepting what soever conies, cheerfully or uncom plainingly, doing what we have to do faithfully. It is hard to be calm and gentle when surrounded by bitterness and ill-temper, to be sweet and serene when others are rude and fretful, to be bright aiul sunny in an atmosphere of gloom, to be composed when people re buff and annoy us; but if our lives are hid in Christ, and his love controls us, it is not so difficult after all; and though the Red seas may be numerous, D ' and the waters of Marah very bitter oftentimes, surely God's greatness shall flow around our incompleteness, and we be raised above the petty cares and trials of earthly existence, till Elim having been gained, wo can abide there safely with the promised land in view. Modrrn ( hnuvri. It. was a startling expression, but quite consistent with what is becom ing a very common sentiment of the imagined superiority of modern en light nient over what we have so long reverenced as divine revelation, which we noticed in the conclusion of a trib ute paid by a correspondent of one of our most influential daily papers to a gentleman recently deceased. After depicting a character of remarkable beauty, in certain mentioned respects, the writer added that such a man "scarcely needed to bo born again." Whether the writer meant to imply that this superior young person was probably never born again, but that it was no loss to him; or that lie proba bly had been, but that it was unneces sary to such a man, —we need not in quire. But when we remember who it was that said, "Except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God," we cannot but wonder at the moral daring which the utterance of such a thought implies.— Watchman. Hoiv to I'ray. Our insufficiency to pray aright is two-fold, embracing both what to pray for, and how to pray. An inspired writer says, "We know not what we should pray for as we ought." In other words, as the passage in its connection teaches, we do not know how to pray except we are assisted by the Holy Spirit. Another inspired penman says, "Ye ask and receive not, because yc ask amiss." It is not all manner of prayer that is availing, and we cannot be too deeply impressed with the con sideration that there is a right and a wrong way of praying. To pray ef fectually we must pray "as we ought." To pray "as we ought" includes fixed ness and engagedness of heart, liov ing thoughts and listless feelings are among the greatest hinderances to be overcome. There are very few who have not attempted, seemingly in vain, to have the thoughts confined to the words of prayer, when in spite of all endeavors to the contrary they have wandered hither and thither, as if mocking all control. It is well if in these painful experiences, the need of divine assistance in prayer is suitably realized. HIS LAST COURT. A Nlory of IhcKleriiriM Jndue lhat Arkan •na livrr Had. Old Judge (Jrepson, a justice of peace, was never known to smile. He came to Arkansas years ago, and year after year, by tho will of the voters, he held his place JIS magistrate. The lawyers who practiced in his court never joked with him, because every 0110 soon learned that the old man never engaged in levity. Every morn ing, no matter how bad tho weather might be, the old man took his place behind the bar, which, with his own hands, lie had made, and every even ing just at a certain time ho closed his books and went home. No man ever engaged him in private conversation, because he would talk to no one. No one ever went to his home, a little cottage among the trees in the city's outskirts, because he had never shown a disposi tion to make welcome the visits of those who lived even in the immediate vicinity. Ilis office was not given him through the influence of "electioneer ing," because he never asked any man for his vote. He was first elected be cause, having once been summoned in a case of arbitration, he exhibited the executive side of such a legal mind that the people nominated and elected him. He soon gained the name of the "Hard Justice," and every lawyer in Arkansas referred to his decisions. His rulings were never reversed by the higher courts. He showed no sen timent in decision. He stood upon the platform of a law which he had made a study, and no man disputed him. Recently a woman charged with misdemeanor was arraigned before him. "The old man seems more than ever unsteady," remarked a lawyer, as the magistrate took his seat. "I don't see how a man so old can stand the vexations of a court much longer." "I am not well to-day," said the judge, turning to the lawyers, "and any cases that you may have you will pleased despatch them to the best, and, let me add, quickest of your ability." Everyone saw that the old man was unusually feeble, and no one thought of a scheme to prolong a discussion, for all the lawyers had learned to rev erence him. "Is this the woman?" asked the judge. "Who is defending her?" "I have no defense, your honor," the woman replied. "In fact, I do not think that I need any, for I ain here to confess my guilt. No man can defend me," and she looked at the magistrate with a curious gaze. "I have been ar rested on a charge of disturbing the peace, and I'm willing to submit my case. I am dying of consumption, judge, and I know that any ruling made by law can have but little effect on. me;" and she coughed a hollow, hacking cough, and drew around her an old black shawl that she wore. The expression on the face of the magis trate remained unchanged, but his eye lids dropped and he did not raise them when the woman continued: "As 1 say, no man can defend me. lam too near that awful approach, to pass which we know is everlasting death to soul and body. Years ago I was a child of brightest promise. I lived with my parents in Kentucky. Way ward and light-hearted. I was admir ed by all the gay society known in the neighborhood. A man came and professed his love for me. I don't say this, judge, to excite your sympathy. I have many and many a time been drawn before courts, but I never be fore spoke of my past life." She coughed again, and caught a flow of blood on a handkerchief which she pressed to her lips. "I speak of it now because I know this is the last court on earth before which 1 will be arraigned. I was fifteen years old when I fell in love with the man. My father said he was bad, but I loved him. He came again and again, and and when my father said lie should come no more I ran away and married him. My father said I should never come home again. I had always been his pride, and I loved him so dearly, but he said that I must never again come to his home—my home, the home of my youth and happiness. How 1 longed to see him. llow I yearned to put my head on his breast. My hus band became addicted to drink. He abused me. 1 wrote to my father, ask ing him to let me come home, but the answer that came was, 'I do not know you !' My husband died—yes, cursed Ggd and died. Homeless and wretch ed, and with my little boy I went out into the world. My child died, and I bowed down and w r ept over a pauper's grave. 1 wrote to my father again, but he answered, T know not those who disobey my commandments !' I turned away from that letter hardened. I spurned my teachings. Now I am here." Several lawyers rushed forward. A crimson tide llowed from her lips. They leaned her lifeless head back against the chair. The old magistrate had not raised his eyes. "Great God !" said a lawyer, "he is dead !" The woman was his daughter. Terms, SIOO Per Year in Advanoe. PEAItLM OF THOUGHT. No legacy is so rich as honesty. Economy is itself a great income. Folly ends where genuine hope be gins. Men mark the hits, and not the misses. It costs more to avenge wrongs than to bear them. Whatever makes men happier makes them better. It is a good rule to be deaf when a slanderer begins to talk. Feebleness of means is, in fact, the feebleness of him that employs them. Circumstances are the rulers of the weak; they are but the instruments of the wise. Out in the world men show us two sides in their character ; by the fireside only one. A woman may get to love by de grees ; the best tire does not flare up the soonest. Where there is much pretension much has been borrowed; nature never pretends. It is not what you see that makes you popular among your friends ; it is vhat you don't tell. Never despise humble services; when large ships run aground, little boats may pull them off. Attrition is to the stone what good influences are to the man ; both polish, while they reveal hidden beauties. When a man is at the foot of the hill in his fortunes, he may stay a Jong while there in spite of professional ac complishments. Murdered by a Private. Lieutenant General Coode, of Ply mouth, England, formerly of the In dian army, has received particulars of the murder of his son, Lieutenant W. 11. Coode, adjutant of the wing of the Lincolnshire regiment stationed at Benares. The deceased was drilling the men on parade when two rifle shots were fired from the corner of the bar racks. The bullets passed close over the heads of the men, and almost im" mediately a third shot was fired, severe ly wounding a private named Lilley, in the knee. The men were much excit ed and wanted to "scatter," but Lieu tenant Coode ordered them to remain steady and rode in the direction of the firing. As he was advancing in a can ter a fourth shot was fired by a private named Cocklin, who was standing out side the barrack door. The bullet did no damage aud the man again discharg ed his rifle. This time the bullet enter ed the breast of Lieutenant Coode's horse, but notwithstanding this, the oilicer still courageously advanced toward Cocklin, shouting, "What are you about, sir?" The man replied, "Stand back, sir, or I will shoot you, too." Lieutenant Coode, when about twelve paces from the soldier, was dis mounting, apparently with the inten tion of seizing his assailant, when Cocklin again tired, and this time struck the officer in the groin. Medical aid was quickly secured, but the main artery of the lieutenant's leg was found to be nearly severed and he died in about an hour. Cocklin, when taken to the cell, remarked that he wished he had been able to "do" for Sergeant Brent. Sergeant Brent had been instrumental in obtaining a oon viction against Cocklin's "chum" for insubordination, and the deceased, as adjutant of the regiment, had pros ecuted him. This is the only reason that can be assigned for the occur rence. Lieutenant Coode was buried with full military honors, and a reg imental order was issued directing the officers to go into mourning for three months. Lafayette and His Opossums* When Lafayette paid a visit to the United States he intimated a desire to become master of an opossum, and a Baltimore editor gladly undertook to see that the general had one to take home with him. Anxious to make the most of the occasion, he proclaimed his want in a highlv-spiced appeal to his countrymen, urging them to prove that republics were not always ungrateful. They responded cheerfully—too cheer fully- to the appeal. Opossums came in from north and south, east and west, until the overwhelmed editor found himself possessed of 2190 too many. He could not afford them separate accom modations, he dared not lodge them to gether; so, at night, he turned them all loose in Monument square, to quarter themselves as they listed. Next day 'possums were here, there ard every where in Baltimore, to the delight of the black, and the disgust of the white citizens, who fervently wished that La fayette had never heard of an opossum, or that tlie editor had executed his com mission with more discretion.— All the Year Round. ADVERTISING RATES: t*t I 1 mo. I 'ram. I f TOO*. I ;mj I *qur* •! 00 j J! 900 $3 GO * 4 00 * 0 00 >4 oolmno 800 I 400 600 I 10 00 I 15 81 >4 coliimc .. 500 8 001 19 00 1 90 00 1 8900 1 columr. 8 ou> 19 (Ml | 30 00 1 85 0©: 90 00 One inch matew *qu*r. Atr4mra mfl ifx contort' Notiow *9.60. Trwii*nt (lvrUMiiinte ltd ! >r*l* 10 rant* r*r l>n* for ftrwt insertion MKI 5 ceirts per tiiipffiMNich insert ton. NEWSPAPER LAWS. If subscribers order the discontinuation of newspapers, the publishers may continue to send them until all arrearajfes are paid. Tf subscribers refuse or nefflect to take their mwapajiers from the otlice to which they are they ere held responsible until they have settled the bills and ordered them dis continued. If subscribers move to other places with out informing the publisher, ana the news papers are sent to the former place of resi dence, they rs then responsible. NO. 1(5. A Closc-Ffsted Economist/ Tho farmer ekt in his easy chair Bet wen tho fire anil the lamplight's glare I His face was rmlily and full and fair; His three small boys in the chimney nook Conned the lines of a picture book; II is wife, the pride of his home and heart, Baked the biscuit and made the tart. Laid the table and drew the tea, Deltly, swiftly, silently; Tired and weary, weak and faint, She bore her trial wi:he mighty handy, I'm bound to say, T* have something put by. For folks most die; An' there's funeral bills, and grave stones to buy— Enough to swamp a man, purty nigh; Besides, there's Edward an' Dick un' Joe To be provided lor when we go; So, if I were you, I'll tell you what I'd du; I'd be savin* of woo 1 as ever I could— Extra fires don't do any good; I'd be savin' of soap and savin' of lie, And run up some candles once in a while; I'd be rather spurin' of coffee aud lea, For augur is high, An' all to buy, And water is good enough drink forme; I'd be kind o' care'til about my clo'es And look out shaip how the money goes— Gewgaws is useless, ualcr knows; Extra triinmin' ? 3 the bane of women. I'd sell the l est of my cheese and honpy. An' eg;s is as good, nigh 'bout, as mouey i An' as to the carpet you wanted new— I uuess we cau make the old one du; An' as for the washer an' sewin' machine, Them s-rnoo h-tongu- d agent*, so pesky mean, You'd beiter get rid of 'ein, slick and clean. What do they know 'bout women's work? Do they calkilate women made to shirk?" Dick and Edward and little Joe Sat in the corner in a row; They saw their patient mother go On ceaselc-s errands to and fro; They saw that ber form was beat and thin, Her tern; les gray, her checks sunk in; They saw the quiver of lip and chin— And then, with a wrath he could not smother, Outspoke the youngest, frailest brother: "You talk of savin' wood an' fle An' tea an' sugar all the while, But you never talk of savin' mother!" PUNGENT PARAGRAPHS. Men of mite—Dwarfs. A fast gait—One that is bolted. Funny, isn't it that you always sefr the night-fall before any stars begin to shoot. are in the habit of slur ring some but they all speak well of greenbacks. Man may want but little here below, but he makes a great disturbance if he doesn't get everything. "What is woman's sphere?" To be mathematically correct, we suppose woman's sphere is being always 'round when you want her. and sometimes when you don't want her. A New York tailor says that when he desires to get rid of a poor paying customer he misfits him so badly that he is laughed at. Then he gets mad and patronizes some other tailor. "Enfant terrible." Grandmamma (maternal) —"What a fidget you are George! What are you looking about for now V" Grandson " Gran'raa. Where's that—l was looking for that 'miserable table' pa says you keep." We tire all equal in away that this little story illustrates: "A day or two since a well-known physician called to see a lady patient, the mother of a bright three-years-old girl. As the doctor entered the room the little girl, as though somewhat frightened, ran away upon being told that tho visitor was Dr. . The mother explained that the little one, through experience with a dislocated ankle and the vaccina tion season, was evidently afraid of the visitor. The fofiowing day the doctor made anothi r call. .d su ceeded in winning the little gill to his kn y 'Why did you run away from me yes* terday?' he asked. -Oh. I diun't run away from you. 1. in a* ay from the doctor of you,' she responded vigor, ouslv." Ancient Dishes. The British museum has just ae* quired an interesting collection of th'r ty-nine silver objects which gives an insight into the daily life of the Baby lonians, and reminds us of the discov. ery of the bird dealer's shop at Pom peii. These objects, which were all found together on the site of Babylon, consists of fragments of silver dishes, the broken handle of a vase and coins, most of the latter being defaced and clipped. It is easy to see that all have been broken purposely by a practiced hand, with the view of using the metaj again, and we may fairly conclude that the collection is the remains of a silversmith's or coiner's shop. Among the coins is a Lycian one in good pres ervation. So far as can be judged from the vase handle and dishes, the art is distinctly Babylonian under Per sian influence, and the workshop may date from the conquest of Alexander.