PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY ra MUSSER'S BUILDING.' Corner of Main and Penn Sts., at SI.OO PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE; Or $1.38 If not paid in advaaoa. i Acceptable Correspondence Solicited. I I ISTAddress all letters to "MILLHEIM JOURNAL." The Mnslc of the Rain. falling, on the house-tops, With a music quaint and rare, Like tho sound of human heart-throbs On the silcut midnight air; Or the tears ol angels falling When they weep with those who weep, Or the lullaby of mothers When they rock their babes to sleep. Like the drowsy wine of poppies With its wierd, enchanting power, Coming to the weary listouer Like the dew to drooping flowers; Like calm fleep to those who suffer, Or like tears to those who mourn; Like remembered words of lored oues - FrotnViur aching bosoms torn. Strangely sweet, bewitching music, All enthralled my souses lie, As I watch the mystic Future With the shadowy Past go by, While a calm and holy quiet Steals upon my heart and brain, Then I tall asleep, still listening To the murmur of the rain. So, mayhap, sometime hereafter 1 shall lay me down to rest, Overweary, and shall listen For the musio I loved best; When, its gentle cadence tailing Through the midnight silence deep, Soltly soothes my troubled spirit, While it lulls me into sleep. When, at last, my soul has fallen Into sweetest, glad repose, That oa earth sunshine nor shadow No awaking ever knows— Like the voice ot waiting angels, Or the vesper bells in toll, May the soltly-lalling raindrops Chant a requiem tor my soul, —A'inne in Baldwin's .Monthly. SPEAKING TOO SOON. It was a sunshiny May day, with an immense bee booming among the lilacs and peonies in the school garden, an intense glow of golden light on the grass, and a dreamy languor in the air that made Alice Hopkins sleepy in spite of herself, as she sat with the little children's copy-books in a pile before her, inscribing the month's marks upon their covers, according to their respective merits. Alice was scarcely more than a child herself. Barely nineteen, with a slight, young figure, a color that came and went at the slightest variation of her pulse, and pleading hazel eyes, it was the hardest work in the world to assume the dignity that was necessary for her position as assistant teacher. "I never saw such babykhness in my life!" said Miss Negley, Hie princi pal; "and I shall not put up with it, Miss Hopkins—don't you think it! Dignity, in the educational line, is everything. And I do not call it fitting to the position of assistant prin cipal to be racing around with the children in their noonday games, and dressing a corn-cob doll on the sly for little Priscilla Jones, to say nothing about bursting out crying like a gTeat baby, when Billy Smith killed the robin-redbreast with a stone. Dignity. Miss Hopkins—dignity should ever be the watchword of our profession" Miss Negley was tall and grim, with heavy black hair, a sallow complexion, several missing front teeth, and some thing very like a moustache. Alice Hopkins cowered before her severe glance. "I'm very sorry!" faltered she. "I'll try to be good!" "More like a child than ever!" said Miss Negley, despairingly. "I—l mean," Alice hastened to cor rect herself—"l will endeavor to set a guard upon my rash impulses." "That sounds more like it!" said Miss Negley. "And now, Alice, see here! I expect some of the school trustees here to-morrow." "Oh, dear!" said Alice, remembering the signal failure of her class upon a similar occasion, not so very long ago, "It isn't another examination, I hope?" "Worse than that," said Miss Negley —"far worse!" Alice lifted her hazel eyes in amaze ment. What could possibly be worse than Fanny Dow spelling cat with ak, and Lucy Malley asserting that Balti more was situated on the left bank of the river Nile. "There is a proposition on foot to re duce our salaries," said Miss Negley. "Actually, to reduce our salaries!" "Oh," said Alice. "But mine is very email already. Only one hundred dol lars a year. I don't think they can re duce it much." "They can reduce it to fifty, can't they?" said Miss Negley, shortly. "In that case," ventured Alice, "I could go and be a shop girl in my uncle's store in the city. One must live!" "You've no proper pride," said Miss Negley. "A shop girl indeed! But 1 don't intend that they shall carry out their nefarious plans. If— My good graeious me! there comes Mr. Bar thorne now jogging along on his old gray horse just as composed as if he wasn't bent on an errand of evil. They do say that old Barthorne is the head and front of the whole business. I'll show him! A reduction of salaries, indeed! I dare say he means to Itie ffliUhdm Journal. DEININGER & BUTVTILI-iER, Editors and Proprietors. VOL. LVII. wheedle a consent out of us before hand, s that everything shall seem smooth to-morrow when the commit tee meets. But he'll find that he has mistaken his customer Litis time!" Little Alice began to tremble all over, and to grow pink and white by turns, after her usual fashion when sho was disturbed. "I—l am so frightened!" hesitated she. "Flease may Igo home?" "Yes, you little coward," impatiently responded Miss Negley; "that is, if you haven't the courage to stand up for yourself and your rights." "But Mr. Barthorne has always been so kind to me," faltered Alice Hopkins, "and if he should tell me that it was best, I almost know that I should con sent to having my salary reduced. \ ou know, dear Miss Negley, that if it hadn't been for him, I never should have received the appointment at all." "I don't wonder," said Miss Neglev, apostrophizing the ceiling, "that they aren't willing to allow women the privilege of suffrage in this benighted country. And you, Alice Hopkins, you may go home! You certainly will be of no use at all to mo in fighting this battle," And Alice, heartily thankful for this grudgingly-accorded reprieve, put the copy books into the desk-drawer, piled up the dictionary and deliner, caught her little pink lawn sun-bonnet from its nail, and vanished like a flying shadow into the nearest patch of cedar woods. Miss Negley sat very upright, with folded arms and prominent elbows, her nose slightly tinctured with the rosy hue of coming battle, her lips slightly compressed; while Mr. Bar thorne, a pleasant-faced gentleman of five-and-forty or thereabouts, trotted up to the school house door, leisurely dismounted, tied his horse to the hitch ing post, and, totally unconscious that he was observed, alike by Miss Negley from her post of authority on the school room dais, and little Alice Hop kins by the spring in the woods, paused to dust his boots with his yellow silk pocket handkerchief, and to adjust Ills lllick. daiiv 2 U yl.. .A' V Xv_/1 C AIA. j rapped on the door. "I'm glad I'm not there," said Alice Hopkins, with a long sigh of relief. And then, having cooled her face and hands in the transparent spring, she sat down to think. To her, a reduction of her scanty salary meant nothing less than starva tion. As things w ere she could scarce ly pay her board and other expenses. And sitting there in the shifting shadows of the wind-blown branches, she cried a little, to think how- solitary and friendless she was in the world. Miss Negley, however, was in a very different mood. "Come in!" she had answered, brusquely, to the knock at the door, without taking the trouble to move from her seat. And when Mr Barthorne entered, he espied her sitting stiff, silent, straight. "Good afternoon, Miss Negley!" said the trustee, depositing his hat on the nearest desk and venturing on an apolo getic bow. "Good afternoon, Mr. Barthorne!" Miss Negley answered, with just about as much warmth as an icicle in her address. "I hope Ido not intrude," said the trustee, civilly. "Oh, not at all!" said Miss Negley. "A—hem!" said the trustee, evident ly ill at ease. "It ain't easy to broach the business I've come on, Miss Negley.'' "I should think not," said the lady. "But I called just at this hour, when I expected to find you alone—" "Oh, yes, I haven't any doubt that you did!" Miss Negley interrupted in accents of fine sarcasm. "Even you, Squire Barthorne, would be ashamed to hint at such a thing before the poor, dear children " "Eh ?" said Mr. Barthorne, instinct ively retreating a pace or two, for there was something pythoness-like in Miss Negley's attitude, as she rose and darted her head forward at him to em phasize lier words. "I know what you're going to say,' said Miss Negley; "and I won't listen to a word of it—not one word! No one but a set of narrow-minded misers could have thought of it. I'll leave Wyndale school first!" "Well, well, no harm done," said Mr. ! Barthorne, clutching at his hat. "If I'd have known that you'd taken things as hard as this—" "How did you suppose I was going to take 'em?" said Miss Negley, with a scornful laugh. "Did you mistake me for the dust under your feet?" "I assure you, ma'am, that nothing of the sort was in my mind," humbly uttered Mr. Barthorne. "I wish you good afternoon!" He hurried out, remounted his gray steed, which, poor beast, was just com. posing itself for a comfortable doze in the sunshine, and rode off, making, to Alice Hopkins' intense dismay, straight for the shady cedar-woods, where she still sat arranging ferns around the ribbon of her hat. "There's no use trying to run away," thought she. "1 may as well stay where 1 am. And after all, why should I be afraid of Mr. Barthorne?" Mr. Barthone checked his rein as he saw tho pretty young school teacher there under the cedar. He nodded pleasantly. "Fine day. Miss Alice!" said he, wiping his brow with the identical yellow si.N\ pocket handkerchief which had but now served as a duster for his boots. "Yes," said Alice, standing like some fair wood nvmph beside the spring. "Please, Mr. Barthorne, what did she say?" "What did who say?" said the mid dle-aged gentleman, turning scarlet. "Miss Negley. Don't think me in. trusive," she added: "but 1 know all about it." "The deuce you do!" said Mr. Br --thorne. "Why, she wouldn't let me get in a word edgewise—that's what she said. Perhaps, however, I've had a lucky escape!" "But you must own that it is hard," said Alice, earnestly. "Hard?" echoed Mr. Barthorne. "1 should have supposed it would have suited her exactly! But," a new idea bursting athwart his brain, "there's as good fish in the sea as ever were caught out of it! Miss Alice, what would you say if I were to ;isk you to be my wife?" Alice Hopkins looked at him in amazement. "I, Mr. Barthorne!" she exclaimed. "You are young enough to be my daughter, sure enough," said the I worthy man, not without some bitter ness. "But I'm not so very old, cither, and I've a good home to offer any woman who will take pity upon my loneliness." "Loneliness?" Alice looked at Mr. Barthorne in surprise. It had never occurred to her little innocent heart that Mr. Bar- j thorne. in the big white house, with j'UU ol l)l3rta UUU nw | carriage, could ever be lonely. And perhaps there was something in the dewy brightness of her eyes, as she . raised them to Mr. Barthorne's face, that emboldened him to plead his cause with more energy. "1 should love you very dearly, | Alice," he said, with a tremble in his voice. "I would be very good to you. , Won't you answer me, Alice?" Her head drooped; there was an in- j stant of silence, and then she said in a low tone; "Yes, Mr.Barthorne, I'll marry you.'* He bent and kissed her forehead. "You'll not regret it, my lass," said he. "And you're the very girl I would have picked out of a thousand. I'm glad, now, that Miss Negley wouldn't listen to me." Alice started. "Oh, Mr. Barthorne," said she,""wea e j that your errand?" "Of course it was," said Barthorne "Dr. Smiley said she was the very ' woman 1 needed to regulate my house ; hold. But the moment I hinted at the subject, she as good as ordered me ofi j the premises. Not that I'm sorry foi it. She has a face like a man, and $ figure like a Prussian grenadier!" Alice broke out laughing. She could fancy exactly how Miss Negley had looked. There was comfort in the reflection that Miss Negley would never lecture her more. Miss Negley battled with the com mittee next day, but in vain. The ruthless trustees reduced her salary one half, and when it transpired, in some unaccountable way, that she had actually refused Mr. Barthorne (with out being asked) she felt that life was indeed a failure. And the arrival ol Alice Hopkins' wedding-cards did not better matters. "Oh, dear, oh, dear!" she said, "J spoke too soon. Why didn't I wait tc hear what Mr. Barthorne had to say before I answered in such a hurry? My tongue always was my besetting fault!" Opium Smokers. Most authorities agree that the first opium smoked by a white man in America was consumed in California but there is a division of opinion as to when the vice was introduced. Dr. 11. H. Kane of New York, who has given the subject careful study, says that in 1868 the practice was begun in the United States by a California "sport" named Clendnyn, but Dr. Allan McLane Hamilton says that he saw white smokers in San Francisco joints lng before that time. The habit traveled rapidly Eastward, and reached New York in 1876. In Park, Mott and Pell streets among the Chinese the first joints were opened. Now more than 6000 Americans are said to be slaves to the habit of opium smoking. MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 21, 1883. The President ai a Nehoolmeater —An Karly Poetical lCfTualoii--How He En> a Olflldcnt Youth. A pleasant reminiscence of Presi dent Arthur's college days is told by I)r. Asa G. Stillman, of Albia, a sub i urb of Troy. In the little village of North Pownal, Vt., thirty-one years ago, Chester A. Arthur, then a stu dent of Williams college, taught school during vacation at the college to earn money to help defray the expenses of his education. Among the country lads who were placed under the in. struction of tho struggling student was Stillman, then a boy of eight sum mers. It appears that the future presi dent of the United States was unusual ly strict in tho rules governing his rural school, and rigorously insisted that each of the young ideas in his charge should speak a piece every ex amination day. Young Stillman lacked tho courage to declaim in the presence of the visitors who called to note the progress of the pupils. This want of bravery served as a sufficient excuse for exemption until Mr. Arthur re solved that it was no longer available, and insisted that Stillman should spout ! with the rest of the boys. Stillman had been led to believe that the pieces I tho other lads had recited were all ! original, and complained that he was unable to compose anything that would prove acceptable. The day be fore the examination arrived, and all the scholars excepting Stillman were prepared for a burst of eloquence on the morrow. Stillman was requested to remain after the school had been dismissed, and visions of a boy receiv ing tho beneiit of a birch rod. wielded by our chief magistrate, flitted through his mind. The scholars had all de parted, when Mr. Arthur, addressing the quaking Stillman, said smilingly: "Don't you think you am speak a piece to-morrow V" "I haven't got one," was the answer. "Will you learn one if I write it down for you ?" "I'd try, but I can't read writing well enough," was the reply of the "Then I'll print it for you," said tho persistent tutor. "Will you learn it if I do?" "I'll do my best," sighed the juve nile, cornered at last. Mr. Arthur thereupon printed in letters large and distinct the following "poetic gem." The original manuscript has been preserved by Dr. Stillman since the day President Arthur printed the verses in that little Vermont school house: Pray, how shall I, a little lad, In speaking make a figure; You aro but j*-sting, I' m "Iraid, Do wait till 1 get higher. But since you wish to hear iny part, And urge me to begin it, I'll strive tor p'ftise with all my art, Though smull uiy chance to win it, • I'll tell n tale, how Farmer John A little roan colt breJ, sir, And every night and every morn, He watered and he led, sir. Said Neighbor Joe to Farmer John, "You surely are a dolt, sir, To spend such ilaily care upon A little useless colt, sir." The farmer answered wondering Joe, "I bring my little colt up Not for the good he now can do, But may do when he's grown up." The moral you may plainly see, To keep the tale Irom spoiling, The little colt you think is me, I know it by your smiling. I now entreat jou to excuse, My lisping and my stammers, views, And since you've learned my parent's I'll humbly make my manners. When Asa Stillman made "his man ners" after relieving himself of the above, he was met with tho congratu lations of his teacher, his parents and the visitors. President Arthur fre quently refers to this maiden effort in letters to the physician, whose first son he named Chester Arthur Still man. This boy, at a Sunday-school gathering, a few evenings ago, re cited the simple lines, he having then arrived at precisely the same age as his father was when the latter deliver ed them.— Chicago Tribune. Loceinotive Caprices. It is perfectly well known to expe rienced engineers that if a dozen dif_ ferent locomotive engines were made at the same time, of the same power, for the same purpose, of like material, in the same factory, each of these loco motive engine would come out with Its own peculiar whims and ways, only ascertainable by experience. One en gine will take a great meal of coal and water once; another will not listen to such a thing, but insists on being coax, id by spadefuls and bucketfuls. One is disposed to start off when required at the top of his speed; another mus t nave a little time to warm at the work and to get well into it. These pecu liarities are so accurately mastered by skillful drivers that only particular men can persuade engines to do their best. It would seem as if some of these "excellent monsters" declared, ! Dn being brought from the stable, "If It's Smith who is te drive, I won't go; A PAPER FOR THE HOME CIRCLE. AKTHUR AS A POET. if it's my friend Stokes, I am agreeaiole to anything." All locomotive engines are low spirited in damp and foggy weather. They have a great satisfac tion in their work when the air is crisp and frosty. At such a time they are very cheerful and brisk, but they strongly object to haze and mists- These are points of character on which they are united. It is their peculiari ties ami varieties of character that are most remarkable.— Eleaitcd Railway Journal. THE CUSTER MASSACRE. An Account of the SUiuhlcr Ulvtu by au Indian Woman. Since General Custer and his com. mand of 300 were massacred by the braves of Sitting Bull, two or three ac counts have been given, each of which purported to be a correct history of tho fight. But of the particulars of the scene there have been only meager accounts. The St. Paul Pi inter Press publishes an interview between a cor respondent at Standing Rock Agency and the wife of Tatatukahegleska, or Spotted Horn Bull. This woman is first cousin to Sitting Bull, and the story is vouched for as being a true account of the battle. After describ ing the advance and tile retreat of Ma jor Reno—whom she declared to be either drunk or crazy and his men thoroughly panic stricken—the wom an stated that the retreat and its con sequent slaughter was scarcely ended when the blare of Custer's trumpets told the Sioux of his approach; but they were prepared for him. The men quietly crossed the river, and hundreds galloped to his rear out of range at first but soon hemming him in constant, ly narrowing circles. The woman mounted her pony and rode behind her camp, where she could get a good view of the hills beyond. She saw the troops come up and dismount. Each fourth man seized the bridles of three horses besides his own. The rest de ployed and advanced on the run toward the river. She saw the terrible effect of the withering fire which greeted the j Approach from the willows on the In- i as she said: "Our people, boys and all, had plenty of guns and ammunition to kill the new soldiers. Those who had run away left them behind." Slowly trotting north along the outskirts of the encampments, she noted the Indians who had crossed getting closer to the troops. She watched the latter —those who were left of them—retreat to their horses and mount. She heard the yells of her kindred and the shouts of the whites; but soon, as the former grew plentier and the latter fewer, she could distinguish little save here and there an animated cluster of men and horses. Slowly her pony jogged down the stream. When she reached the Minne conjo camp, on the extreme left, not an hour's ride, she said not one white soldier was visible on the field. Of horses there were plenty; these the Indians spared. The Custer men were soon stripped and the Indians knew they had killed the long-haired chief by his buckskin coat trimmed with beaver which they found upon him. The Sioux lost thirty killed, and more than twice as many wounded, the Indians numbering five thousand in all. Preserving Power of Salt. It is well-known that in soil where lime abounds, dead bodies are fossilized in a few years or even a few months after burial. In soil where there is no lime there are sometimes other ele ments which often preserve the fear tures of a buried body unchanged for many years. The philosophic Hamlet, musing by an old grave over the fact that man turns into dust, and dust into earth, exclaims: "Imperial Caesar, dead and turned to clay, Might atop a hole to keep the wind away !" But what would have been his mus ings if he had stood beside the disin. terred body of his father and seen brow and form appearing as natural as when he gave "the world assurance of a man?" Yet this might have been, for there are numerous cases on record where bodies disinterred for removal after years of interment, have been found to be as well preserved as if they had been only a few days dead. General Washington's features were quite perfect when his body was taken up to be put in the sarcophagus where they now repose. The same was true of General Wayne, when his body was removed forty years after death; and of Robert Burns, twenty-one years after burial. But it seems almost in credible that the body of John Hamp den, who was disinterred 200 years after death, should have been in a similar state of preservation. But Lord Nugent records the fact. His word is not to be questioned. Possibly the most remarkable fact of all these cases is that the bodies crumbled to a heap of dust soon after exposure. Terms, SIOO Per Year in Advance FEABLS OF THOUUHT. Idleness is the door to all vices. Success is a fruit slow to ripen. Egotism is the tongue of vanity Many are esteemed only because they are not known. Conscience warns us as a friend be fore it publishes us as a judge. Hints are like thistlo-down. You cannot tell where they will light. Those who set up a standard must expect to be judged by that standard. Lose not thy own for want of ask ing for it; it will get thee no thanks- Thought is slow-paced—imagina tion often reaches the goal ahead of it. A torn jacket is soon mended, but hard words bruise the heart of a child. You may depend upon it he is a good man whose intimate friends are all good. The light of friendship is the light of phosphorus—seen plainest when all around is dark. We seldom find people ungrateful so long as we are in a condition to render them service. Envy is a passion so full of coward ice and shame, that nobody ever had the confidence to own it. UNDER WATER. A XMver's Experience With Sharks and Other Creatures of Uie Vaty I>etp. Harry H. Ballard, of New Orleans, one of the eighteen marine or salt water divers of the United States, was found confined to his room in the pay ward of the Cincinnati hospital by an attack of inflammatory rheumatism, caused by exposure as a diver. "Did you not fear the sharks in your diving expeditions?" asked an Enquir er reporter. "That is a subject about which there is a great deal of humbug. Old sailors with lots of idle time on their hands love to spin yarns about the fe- i KM&f i$ a cow- J less you provoke the quar rel. I have met thousands of them ! and had them swim all around me, with their horrid, glassy, deathlike eyes glaring at me and their huge mouths under their belly snapping as though ready to swallow me. The noise that the air makes roaring into the shells frightens them and then they see that the man is moving about At Callao harbor, which is a regular sharks' nest, I went down forty feet or more and met lots of these ocean dev ils, but none of them offered to molest j me. Divers have various expedients for avoiding these animals, and one was told me on the Peruvian coast A di ver was at work on the wreck of a Spanish man-of-war in West India waters. A safe containing $3,000,000 was the object of his search, and after hours of patient labor the treasure was found. While he was shackling heavy iron chains to the treasure box a dark shadow, long and motionless suddenly attracted his attention. Looking upward he saw a huge spot ted shark, twenty feet long, poised above and watching every movement as a cat does a mouse. The diver for got about the $3,000,000, and walking a short distance, was on the point of signaling to the tender to pull him up, when a glance convinced him that it would be sure death. The shark watched his every movement, and with a scarcely perceptible movement of his tail, overshadowed his victim with its huge proportions. Never be. fore had the diver more need of cool ness and nerve, together with his wits about him. He spied a long layer of mud close at hand, and he moved tow- j ard it. The shark followed, gliding stealthily toward him, while a thrill of horror ran through his veins. With an iron bar he stirred the mud, which rose thick and fast above him; the clear, golden light of the water disap peared, and the diver escaped. "The only scare I ever had with a fish was when I first went down off the South American coast. I had a great big crowbar in my hand, which perhaps fell about a foot or eighteen inches below my feet. Just beneath mo lay a huge cuttle-fish fast asleep. Of course I did not see him, and the crowbar went clear through him. The cuttle-fish has a peculiar mode of at tack. He discharges a black humor whioh manes the water look like ink. The first thing I knew it was so black all around me I could not see my hand before my face. I couldn't imagine what had broken loose and I signaled to pull me up. The natives all laugh, ed and told me it was only a cuttle fish. Not long after the cuttlefish was worked ashore and there was my crow bar gone clear through him."—Gin cinn>iti dnauirer. NEWSPAPER LAWS. If snbaeribera order the discontinuation of newspapers, the publishers may oontinue to send them until all arrearages are paid. If subscribers refuse or neglect to take their newspapers from the office to which they are sent, they are held responsible until they have settled the bills and ordered them dis continued. If subscribers move to other places with out informing ihe publisher, and the news- Sapers are sent to the former place of resi ence, they are then responsible. " ADViIRTIIING RATES: * " 11 wk. 1 mo. I Bmcw. | 6 moo. tsqaar* „. *1 00 300 8 00 |4 00 I• • L column 1 800 400 I 00 I 10 00 J 16