PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY
IK
MUSSER'S BUILDING.
rrnfr of mud Porb 8t. t
SI.OO PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE;
Or tl. If ■<* f*Ut ta mltum.
Acceptable Corropdince SettdM,
(OTAddrM •11 letter* to
" MILLHEIM JOURNAL."
HalMVaj!
Hare you forgotten where we flood
Between the lights, that night of Spline,
The river rolling to the flood,
So sad the birds, they dared not sing?
No love was ever dreain'd like this,
Beneath the shadows of the park,
Between a v InVper hiul a kiss,
Between the dnyiight and the dark?
There had hen trouble—this was rest;
There had been passion—this was peace:
Tho Minaet dying in tbe west
Made Nat m o sigh and whispers cease,
1 only felt what 1 had found,
Yon only knew what I would sny;
But no: lung broke the penee profound
Between the darkness and the day!
How will it end? I cannot tell;
I ssked it many months ago.
Before the leaves ot Autumn fell,
And eliaiig'd to Winter's waste of snow.
Yet we stand watching at the gale
Of summer tim > lor promise—haik?
No love, 'tis nothing! we must wait
Between the daylight and the dark!
Clement Sioti.
A BITTER CUP.
Mr. Martin had just come in to tea.
It was one of those sultry summer
evenings when the leaves hang stirless
ly on the trees, and the dull electric
fires blaze along the east, foreboders of
storm.
It had been very hot all day, the
farm-hands had lagged at their work
on the lowland meadow, and all the
world's wheels seemed to revolve as if
hey were weighted. Mr. Martin was
#ery tired, and, withal, a little cross.
Perhaps Mrs. Martin was tired, too.
She, poor soul, had been up since four
o'clock in the morning. She had wash,
ed, taken care of four cows' milk, pre
pared three meals for the hungry
farm hands, been up in the quarry
woods to search for a family of ad
venturous young turkey-chicks, sooth
ed the sorrows of a teething baby, and
mended up the suit of clothes which
Betsey Blim, the tailoress, had declar
ed "not worth a needleful o' thread!"
because Thomas, her husband, had
said that "willful Maste was wof il
want," and that there was a deal of
wear in the suit yet, if only there was
a stitch taken here and there.
But her cheek was pink and her eyes
sparkling when Thomas came in, for
all the heaviness in her heart and the
dull pain in her hack, for little Esther
had come home from boarding-school.
Esther, the youngest sister of all, the
darling of the family circle from which
Mrs. Martin came—the pet for whom
they all had scraped and pinched so
that she, at least, might have a "Boston
education."
And Esther sat in the window-seat,
grown into a blooming young woman,
with bronze-brown hair lying in fluffy
masses over her fair forehead, porcelain,
blue eyes, and a dress all trimmed with
ribbon hows,
"Look, Thomas!" cried Mrs. Martin,
excitedly; "it's Essie! Essie come
home two days before we expected her!'
"Yes, I see," said Mr. Martin, in the
cold, measured tones which always
dampened his wife' 3 enthusiasm like
so many drops of freezing water.
"How do you do, Esther? Ruth, what
are you putting cold chicken on the
table for? Corned-beef is plenty, lam
sure. You had a great deal better
gave the chicken for the men's break
fast. Working folks have hearty
appetites."
"Esther is fond of cold chicken,"
whispered Mrs. Martin. "And—"
"No one need want anything better
than good corned-beef,"' judiciously
pronounced Mr. Martin, "Put the
chicken back into the pantry, and the
apple jelly with it. Good stewed goose
berries are relish enough for anybody.
We must economize in little things as
well as large ones, if we don't want to
end our days in the poorhouse."
And Mrs. Martin sorrowfully obey
ed, While Esther watched her brother
in-law with large, grave eyes, betoken
ing inward surprise.
At the end of a week, Mr. Martin
addressed his sister-in-law with serious
purpose.
"Well, Esther," said he, "you've
been here a week now."
"Yes," said Essie, "I've been here a
week."
"A week is a good long visit," re
marked Mr. Martin.
"It's long enough for some things,"
said Essie.
"Mrs. Martin thinks she would like
to have you stay," went on Mr. Martin,
after a puzzled glance at the blue, shin
ing eyes. "And although, of course,
every one adds to the expense in a
family like this, I've no objections to
giving you a home, provided you are
willing to earn it by hard work.
And—"
"Stop!" cried Essie, jumping up,
"I haven't asked you for a home yet.
And I don't mean to. And you are
only making me the offer because
Doctor Dorian says Ruth will break
down unless she has a strong maid
servant to help her with the house
work. But there is no money that
flic flUilllwim Journal.
DEININGER & BUMILLER, Editors and Proprietors
VOL. LVII.
would hire me to make myself such a
drudge as poor Ruth is."
" Hoity-toity 1" said Mr. Martin.
'*Voting woman, you don't consider
who you are talking to."
"Yes,l do," said Essie, with emphasis.
"To a Bluebeard, to a stock, a stone, a
man who is grinding his wife's life out
on the pitiless wheel of money making.
No, 1 wouldn't live as Ruth does, not
if you would put me in a palace!"
Mr. Martin grew green and saffron
by turns.
"Humph!" said he. "Fine.ideasyou
have got at this fashionable boarding
school of yours. Well, if you don't
like my otl'cr, you're not obliged to
accept it. He a line la-ly, if you please,
and see where it will land you."
Byway of answer, Essie marched
out of the room with all the dignity of
a royal princess. i>ho only stopped in
the kitchen long enough to kiss Ruth,
who was in the midst of a baking.
"Poor darling," said she, "How I
wish I could carry you off with me.
For stay, I won't!"
"Life is hard work. Essie," said Mrs.
Martin, beginniitg to cry, in spite of
herself; "and it's a woman's duty to
help her husband."
•And I mean to help mine when 1
have one." said Essie, blushing bright
ly. "But not by wearing myself out."
Mr. Martin shook his head.
"If Stephen Smith is foolish enough
to marry that saucy gipsy, she'll
lead him a pretty life," said he. "I
wonder if she expe; ts to sit 011 a
satin sofa all her days, with a rose
in her hand, and her hair frizzled, in
that preposterous fashion, all over
her eyes? But I warn 'em, they need
never come to me for help! Esther
has treated me with too much insolence
for me ever to receive her again,"
"I am sure she did not mean any
thing." said Mrs. Martin, apologetically.
"Well, then, her words belied her
meaning," remarked Thomas Martin,
grimly compressing his lips.
But Stephen Smith was apparent
ly undaunted by the possibilities of
ruin predicted by Farmer Martin, for
he married Ksther and went to the
city to live, within three months.
"1 give 'em just a year to come
back here and eat humble pie!" said
Martin, vindictively.
"Oh, Thomas; don't talk so!" said
his wife. "One would think you
would le glad to have some evil
befall them!"'
"And so I should," said
viciously grinding his teeth together.
•'That girl needs a lot of humbling,
and I hope she'll get it."
Three years afterward there came
one of those terrible droughts that
undo a farmer's life-work in a sea -
son, and sweep away his prospects as
an autumn wind sweeps away a sere
forest. The cattle died, a pestilence
broke out among the Hock ot sheep,
which Tlwrnas Martin had just bought;
a high wind blew his best barn over,
and disaster stared him in the face on
every side.
"It's no use talking," said he. "I
cannot meet this year's interest on the
mortgage. The place will have to go."
"Oh, Thomas!" groaned Mrs. Martin,
who, poor soul, now lay all day on a
hard wooden lounge, and groaned to
see how wofully she was needed at the
helm.
"I can't help it," said Martin.
"Everything is against me."
"It's only five hundred dollars," said
Mrs. Martin. "You might borrow it."
"Who'd lend to me, I'd like to know ?'
said Martin, remembering with a sigh
how he had hardened his own face
against every humble suppliant in the
golden days of his prosperity.
"There's Esther's husband," suggest
ed Ruth. "I've heard that he's doing
well in Boston. And, after all, Esther's
my own sister."
Mr. Martin's features contracted into
a hideous grimace. Of all the bitter
cups which circumstances had held to
his lips of late this was the bitterest.
But it had to be swallowed. There
was no help for it.
"I didn't suppose Smith's folks lived
as genteel as this," said he to himself,
as a neat maid led him across an
octagonal vestibule, floored with black
and red marble, and fragrant with
flowers, under the golden fringe of an
antique portiere, into a large, taste
fully-furnished room, where the sing
ing birds, the open piano, the low satin
sofa all betokened no lack of money.
Yes— Mr. Smith was at home. He
had not yet gone to the store, and pres
ently he came in, waving welcomes to
the man who had married Essie's sister
"Lend you a thousand dollars ?" said
he. "Of course we can lend you a
thousand dollars. What is money for
if not to help each other with. Oh,
yes. We've a snug little sum laid up
in the bank, and we live very comfort
ably. My business? Yes, it's tolera
ble, but it never got us all these things,"
glancing at the soft arabesques of the
carpet, the graceful folds of the crim
son silk curtains, and the easel filled
with proof engravings. "That is my
wife's doing."
"Eh?" said Mr. Martin, staring
around him.
"Yes," said Smith, with a certain,
quiet satisfaction. "F.sSie is an artist,
you know—a designer. She invents
patterns for the paper-hangers and up
holsterers. They are glad to pay her
fifty dollars a week."
"Fifty dollars a week!" exclaimed
Thomas Martin. "Why that's more -
fifty dollars is, 1 mean -than poor Ruth
made hv all her poultry lor a year.
Well. 1 never!"
In all his life he had never respected
Essie as he respected her now.
"She has money laid up," said
Stephen Smith. "And if she's the girl
I think she is, she won't grudge it to
help her sister's husband in a pinch."
(Jail and bitterness gall and bitter
ness! But, thought poor Martin, with
a sigh, how was Stephen to know ;;11
that was come and gone?
Essie's light step, on the passage
way, sounded at this instant; and she
came in, dressed in a picturesque
brown linen blouse; her hair still shad
ing her forehead, like a fringe of floss
silk, alter the old, graceful fashion.
"Yes," she said brightly, when hei
brother-in-law's errand was stated to
her; "Of course you shall have it. 1
owe you as much its that, 1 think,
Thomas, were it only to erase from
your memory that last scene of our
parting. Ilow defiant and insolent it
was, to-be-sure!" and she laughed the
sweetest of mellow laughter. "But I
insist upon it still, that my theory was
correct; a woman can work, without
becoming a drudge."
"Perhaps she can," slowly and un
willingly admitted Thomas Martin
"perhaps she can! But it didn't use to
be so, in my mother's days."
And he sighed to think of poor Ruth,
broken down in the meridian of her
days, by the cruel necessities that drive
the wife of an American farmer to her
doom. Was it his own fault? Per
haps it was.
Essie's thousand loan was the straw
which saved him from figurative
drowning. He paid the interest,
bought a new flock of merino sheep,
and weathered the storm.
And the next year when Essie came
to the farm to assist her sister, for the
First time she found Ruth sitting on
the piazza, and watching the little
jambs play in the sunshine with listless,
heavy eyes.
"Yes," said Ruth, "I can't work any
more. But Thomas is very kind. He
don't grudge the hired girl's wages*
and he is always saying he wished he
had taken more care of me in the old
times. But it's too late now. You
were right, Essie, when you said you
wouldn't stay on here, and help with
the housework."
"Yes," said Essie, fondling the thin
hand, which lay on the arm of the
rocking-chair, "I think 1 was right."—-
Helen Forest Graves.
The Viceroy and the Baby.
A characteristic anecdote is related
of the late Lord Lawrence, when as
the new Viceroy of India, he was re
turning to the country in which his
best years had been passed. He was
in bad spirits, partly from sea-sickness;
partly from the lack of friends and con
genial natures around him, partly from
the feeling of the heavy responsibilities
which lie had assumed in comparatively
weak health. A ladv was returning to
India with her infant child, which she
utterly neglected, and the baby took its
revenge upon the passengers generally
by squalling day and night alike. They
complained in no measured language
to the authorities, "Steward, throw
that baby overboard!" was the cry
which came from many a tempest
tossed and sleepless birth. But the
nuisance continued unabated. At last
the new viceroy, perhaps he saw in the
child, half-unconseiously, a slight re
semblance to his lost Bertie, gave it a
large share of his attention, and would
take it for hours together on his
showing it his watch and anything
that would amuse it. The child took
to him, as he to it, and to the great
relief of the passengers was always
quiet in his presence. "Why do you
take such notice of that child ?' Asked
one of them. "Why, to tell you the
truth," said the viceroy, "that child is
the only being in the ship who 1 can
feel quite sure does not want to get
anything out of me, and so I take
pleasure in its society." How much
of the kindliness and simplicity of a
great nature is revealed by this simple
story.
Areial Trips.
Two successful aerial trips have
been made by M. I'ompeieu with an
elongated balloon, and on the second
ascent a change in the course of the
air-ship was obtained by simply mov
ing a rudder with which it had bee
provided
MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 19, 188.1.
SCIENTIFIC.SCRAPfI.
Jupiter's spot, on which the earth
would only make a small patch, is
growing fainter.
In France wonderful results ar
being obtained in the work of vaccinat
ing live stock against disease.
M. de Lesseps states that the evapo.
rating power of the sun is less on the
site of the proposed islam! sea of the
Sahara than on tho Reel Sea, and he
does not anticipate that tho waters
will dry up.
M. Taechini lias succeeded in observ
ing the solar prominences upon the
very disk of tho sun. By enlarging
the opening of his spectroscope he ha!
been able a few times to recognize on
the .edge of the spots these grand
eruptions of hydrogen and the un.
known substance helium.
The camphor tree has recently been
introduced into California and promises
well. It resembles the laurel some
what. It grows well all along the
coast, and one tree at Sacra in < nto h;is
already attauicd a height of thirty feet
It is easily propagated from seed oi
cuttings. Besides producing the well
known drug, the tree is valuable as
timber.
A non-conductor of electricity ha?
yet to be found, for all substances
hitherto discovered are conductors of
the force under certain known condi
tions, but those which oiler a great
resistance to it serve the purpose of
non-conductors in practice, although
they may all be either classed as good
or bad conductors. The best con.
doctor known as yet is silver. The
woist conductor is parafline.
A Boj'r Sermon that Suibl By.
It was the first effort he had ever
made to speak in public. It was in a
union praise mcetiiig.tollowing a great
revival, in a college town. The bo\* f
Mushing and agitated, yet, wishing to
add his word of advice and thanksgiv
ing. abruptly:
"My dear brothers and sisters, 1 hope
you will all take hold; and when you
get hold, keep hold."
The youth was so confused, that he
repeated the same words over and
over, apparently unable to stop, or to
catch a new sentence. Some of the
young people, who had religion, but
were not oil enough to have pity or
consideration, began to laugh, when a
big hearted man (none other than
Brother Ben. Bristow, of Covington),
struck out with the always appropriate
ejaculation, "Thank God!" and then,
with that great melodious voice of his,
began the hymn —"Am I a soldier of
the Cross?"
Fending this inquiry the youthful
disciple sank, red and perspiring, into
his seat.
I am uncertain whether any honest
effort is fruitless. That poor lad
thought, no doubt, that that was a
failure. I have often wondered
whether he ever tried it again —whether
he did "keep hold." The talk of the
college professors and the ministers of
the evangelical churches assembled in
that union meeting have faded from
my remembrance entirely, but the poor
boy's wretched exhortation remains at
least in one heart.
The flowers of rhetoric may decorate
the Gospel fabric, but add nothing to
its strength, nor can golden
glint of man's frsthetic upholstery
make more grateful the shadows of
the great rock in a weary land.—Cin
cinnati Commercial (lazette.
Selecting n Horse.
The Turf, Field and Farm , than
which there is no better authority on
the subject says: In buying a horse,
first look at his head and eyes for signs
of intelligence, temper, courage and
honesty. If had qualities predominate
in a horse, education only serves to en
large and intensify them. The head is
the indicator of disposition. A square
muzzle, with large nostrils, evidences
an ample breathing apparatus and lung
power. Next, see that he is well un
der the jowl, with jaw-bones broad and
wide apart under the throttle. Breadth
and fullness between ears and eyes are
always desirable. The eyes should be
full and hazel in color, ears small and
thin and thrown well forward. The
horse that turns his ears back every
now and then is not to be trusted. He
is either a biter or a kicker, and is sure
to he vicious in other respects, and, be"
ing naturally vicious, can' never be
trained to do anything well, and so a
horse with a rounding nose, tapering
forehead, and a broad, full face below
the eyes is always treacherous and not
to be depended on. Avoid the long
legged, stilted animal—always choos
ing one with a short, straight back and
rump, withers high and shoulders slop
ing, well set back, and with a good
depth of chest, fore legs short, hind
legs straight, with low down hock,
short pastern joints, and a round mui*
ish-shaped foot
A PAPER FOR THE HOME CIRCLE.
A
BABY.
He Writ! Down Town Willi lirndp*i
but Won't t.o Any HI ore.
Grandpa loved the baby. The babv
Is three years old, with the prettiest
big blue eyes, the plumpest, reddest,
cheeks, the dearest, dimpled mouth,
and the cunningest Ways in the world.
Baby has sturdy little legs, and rest
less, strong little arms, and is an exam,
pie of perpetual motion. Baby's grand
pa accompanied him on various walks,
but grandpa's ambition was to take
baby down to the store, where the
hoys could see what a phenomenal
child he is, and what cunning ways he
has. One morning grandpa dressed
baby up, and when he started away
with grandpa he looked, with his wavy
golden hair, bright eyes, and little
brown eloak, like one of Kate Green
way's creations imbued with life.
When the passengers in the ear smiled
at baby and remarked how sweet he
was, grandpa was happy, and chuckled
as he thought of the enjoyment of hav
ing baby with him at the store. Once
at the store, baby was the centre of an
admiring crowd of grandpa's business
companions. Baby was shy at first. f
and one fat list was pushed into the
little mouth, while baby's eyes were
cast upon the lloor. Pretty soon,
though, baby regained his usual spirits
and started on a tour of investigation.
His lirst venture was to pull over a
lot of ledgers and account-books that
hail been undergoing an investigation,
and on top of this pile be poured the
contents of a big bottle of violet ink.
Pursuing his investigations further,
baby found himself in the ollice where
the brightly varnished safe, with its
impossible landscaj es. at once attract
ed his attention. The heavy iron door
was closed, and baby, by standing on a
chair, could just reach the combination
knob, the brightness of which had
caught his eye. lie played with the
pretty knob, turning it round and
round ever so many times, and laugh
ing to himself. But the man who
came to open the safe, and who was in
a dreadful hurry, didn't laugh, for the
lock had been worked for years on a
part of the combination and babv had
destroyed it completely, and three
hours were required to find it again
Out in a back room baby found a ham
mer and some tacks, and Idled some
; new desks full of pretty tin tacks.
Then following the promptings of his
busy little mind he pulled a piece of
string to see what was on the other
end of it. There was a mantel orna
ment belonging to one of the boys on
| the other end, and when the baby
I pulled the ornament tipped over and
was shattered. Baby was frightened
at the muss he had made, and hid him
self in a box that SKNMI on end near
the door, and that had been used to
hold soft coal during the winter.
Grandpa found him there, but in what
a plight 1 His little face and hands
and his beautiful white dress were be
grimed with the nasty coal-dust
j( Irandpa brushed him off and washed
! his face and hands, and made him
somewhat presentable, after which he
set him down In a big chair, and told
'him to set still. Baby sat still about a
minute and then slid down out ol the
chair, and wandered away into the back
'room, where he suddenly spied a little
dog curled up asleep on the top of a
box. Baby stood on his toes, got a
; good grip on doggy's tail, and pulled-
The dog woke up. And the next min
ute baby's little legs were working for
tlear life as he fled towards grandpa's
quarters. Grandpa met him, kicked
.the dog, and quieted baby, tried to
patch up the places in baby's dress
•where the dog's teeth had made ragged
Tents, and began to club himself for
bringing baby down town. Finally
baby capped the climax by upsetting
on himself a ran of lard oil, and grand*
pa quit work for the rest of the day
wrapped the babv in thick brown pa
! per, tied a string around him and took
him home. It will be some time be
i fore grandpa will take his pet down
town with him again. Baby had a
good time, though.
The Great Pork Speculator.
F. D. Armour is of sturdy Scotch
Presbyterian stock. He was born-in
one of the central counties of New
York, on a farm among the hills. It
was the highest ambition of his boy
hood days to earn money enough to
buy the farm adjoining his father's.
When the gold fever broke out he was
still a mere stripling; but, full of
youthful enthusiasm, he started for
California, driving a wagon across the
plains and mountains. He remained
there three or four years, and in that
time saved a few thousand dollars,
lie had cash enough to buy that farm
and settle down. He had no sooner
' reached home than he experienced a
I sudden revulsion of feeling. The
! streets of the village looked narrow,
cramped and dull; the house appeared
j mean and dingy. He only remained
OU the farm two or three days, and
Termra, $1 00 Per Year in Advance.
then betook himself 1" f in< .nii;it i
Later he drifted to M.lwaukee, and at
the close of the war lie sold a great lot
of pork at $lO a barrel, ami bought it
again at $lB to $lO. rea'izing a profit
of about a million. To-day he ranks as
the wealthiest man in Chicago, being
rated by those who know something
of his business at $25,000, fMMl or
00(1,000. His transactions arc o lossal.
His firm employs between 5,000 and
(>,OOO men, and on bis pay rolls are j
about fifty men who redeye salaries of
ss,<mm) and over. He is not yet lifty
live years of age.
5! ASSAt ItE OP TilE CAMN ES.
Itcmorselres lVnvr* Kngnlf h Jojc*
Who lla i r no Home*.—*critrt nt tte
Voik I'oniid.
A New York reporter ile eribes the
method i v which the unmuzzled dogs
aught in the streets are killed at tho
pound, on the E;tsl river. Ninety-two
dogs were disposed of on tlie day of
the reporter's visit. During the fore
noon a number of people called at the
pound to claim their animals lost the
night before while dissipating on the
streets. While the weather was yet in
that uncertain state between a heavy
downpour of driving rain and a sepa
ration of the clouds for the admission
of sunshine, an old gentleman in a lin
en duster and a tall hat, with a blue
gingham umbrella in his hand, was de.
scried by the keeper peering anxiously
over the outer wall. When questioned
he admitted that he was in search of
"Frank," who had mysteriously disap
peared from home. It required a good
deal of persuasion to induce the old
gentleman to enter the door over whose
portals might be appropriately inscrili
ed, "Who enters here leaves hope be
hind." Once inside, he kept very close
to the side of the keeper and was very
reluctant to survey the pens in which
a number of restless and protesting
dogs were confined. Finally, when
half-way tlnough the yard, he recog
nized his pet spitz shut up with half a
dozen ragged and dissipated-looking
canines, among whom he was lolling
in utter ignorance of the fate he was
barely escaping. He sprang about the
| pen in great delight when he saw his
master, and when the latter had paid
the $1 necessary for his redemption, he
accompanied him up the street with
his tail elevated in triumph at the suc_
cessful rescue.
While a dozen or more were saved
from an unhappy fate by thoughtful
masters, the others did not fare so
well. About two o'clock in the after
noon a large iron cage four feet square
was wheeled into the inelosure, and
the door unlocked. A number of d<>gs
who had watched the proceedings with
tongues protruding through the bars
of the pens evidently began to suspect
the approach of it violent death, for
thev set up a lugubrious j.rrbug. and
communicated their terror to their
■ companions. In an instant the yard
resounded with weeping and wailing
and gnashing of teeth. A black and
white spitz was first seized by the legs
and thrust' into the cage, lamenting
the error of his ways at the top of his
voice. A poodle followed him with
! piteous yelling protests, and then half
a hundred curs of mongrel breed were
' sent to join their company. The spitz
seemed to resent his forced companion
ship. and engaged at once in a pitched
battle with a big yellow dog. whom he
: drove into a corner, where he licked
his wounds and howled dismally for
succor.
When the cage was tilled it was
wheeled along a short railroad tra k to
the water's edge, where it was attach
ed to a large crane. An executioner
j stood at the crank, and when the sig"
' nal was given, he let go his hold and
stepped back upon the platform. The
cage swung out over the water and de
scended amid yells of rage, cries of
fear and barks of derision. As it be
gan to sink the dogs fought desperate
ly for the upper places, and it disap"
; peared with the disreputable spitz at
the top of the cage, battling tiercely
with a black-and-tan who disputed his
supremacy. A choked wail floated
over the white-capped waves, and the
checkered career of the unfortunate
canines came to a sudden and unex
pected termination at the bottom of
the East river, amid the sea-weed, peb
bles and fiishes.
After the lapse of a few minutes the
cage was raised and the wet, limp bod
ies thrown into a waiting cart. The
unhappy dogs who had witnessed the
. departure of their comrades from their
pens in the yard were then taken out
and treated to a similar exit. One of
these that wore a huge Spinola collar
snapped viciously at every dog as he
was put into the cage. Another went
at his antagonist savagely, and they
sank beneath the restless waters locked
in a fierce and passionate embrace.
When the pens had been emptied the
carcasses were taken to Barren island
where they will be boiled down and
converted into soap and phosphate.
NEWSPAPER LAWS.
If subscribers order the discontinuation of
newspapers, the publishers may continue to
semi thom until ell arrearages are paid.
If subscribers refuse or neglect to take their
newspapers from the office to which they are
sent, tliev are held responsible until they
have settled tho bills and ordered them dis
continued. ,
If subscribers move to other places with
out informing the publisher, and the news
papers are sent to the former place of resi
dence, they are then responsible. ..
APVF.KTIKINU RATES:
" I wk. I 1 Tno7~| 3m os. t (Imnj, My**'
I ■rmnrt* *1 Wl i i 3 110 ? .1 SI t 4 "0 I
IS:::::; S\ <rwl ml •
P . ," n . aon I s 00 1 13 WI 20 00 M W
i i oliinin .: *<' l 12 0" I '!". I 36 001 sn.
w On* iwh make)* BTinro. Adminmtrstorii and K*,,
tenter*' Notices #3.60. Transient sdrorl laments spd
locblb 10 cent* per lino for flrat insertion *n<l o cenU per
!iue for each additional insertion.
NO. 28.
To a Daisy.
Woo, little rimless wheel of Into,
With silver spokes nttd huh of yellow
What gentle pirl, in nccents mellow,
Has sought your aid lo find ft mate?
Who Kfmpt. your olender spokes apart,
Each one some d?fti acquaintance noining?
And who was he —the loved one, claiming
Tho choicest chamber in her heuit?
0 tiny hub of golden hue,
Kisi by her fingeia' tender pressing,
Still yet, mothinks, die's vainly guessing
It what you prophesied were true.
You died between her finger 'ips,
Sweet gypsv rnaid of wisdom magic;
I'ray, is it worth a death so tragio
To hear the mitsio of her lips?
—F. 1). Sherman in the Century.
PUNGENT PARAGRAPHS.
It never perspires but it pores.
The provincial press—a cider mill.
The czar .will last a long time. He is
bound in Russia.
A summer resort.—Borrowing our
neighbor's lawn mower.
A man whose best wonts are always
trampled under foot—A carpet manu
facturer.
"No, sir, said the pa c sengd o> trie
ship's doctor, "I'm not seasick, but I'm
deucedly disgusted with the motion of
the vessel."
When a man aoes not get up with
the lark in the morning, the presump
tion is that he was out on a swallow
the night previous.
Harper's Bazar says "a widow snouid
be married in a bonnet." Ilarper is
"poking" fun at the widows; of course
they prefer to be married in a church.
With the man of to-day life is a pa
thetic, heroic and unavailing struggle
against baldheadedness. It is a waste
of time, money and ointment to strive
against it
"May 1 leave a few tracts?" asked a
traveling quack doctor of a lady who
responded to his knock. "Leave some
tracts? Certainly you may," said she,
looking at him most benignly over her
specs; "leave them with the heel to
ward the house, if you please."
An Englishman shooting small game
1 in Germany remarked to his host that
there was a spice of danger in shoot
ing in America. "Ah," said the host,
"you like danger mit your sport? Den
you go out shooting mit me. De last
time I shoot mine brudder-in-law in da
schtomack."
"Well," remarked a young M. D. just
returned from college, "I suppose that
the next thing will be to hunt a good
situation, and then wait for something
to do, like Patience on a monument."
"Yes," said a bystander; "and it won't
be long after you begin before the
monuments will be on the patients."
Trichinap.
This word—the plural of trichina,
; has its accent on the second syllable,
it is from a CL:k word meaning 'Eair''
an<l is the name of the hair-like worms
sometimes found in the human mus
cles. The word "spiralis" is generally
attached to it, and refers to
ner in which the parasite lies curled
up in his tiny capsule.
When fully grown, it would take
eighteen of the males, placed end to
end, to make an inch. The disease to
which they give rise—.at first often
mistaken for muscular rheumatism—
i called trichiniasis, sometimes trichin
j iasis.
It was not. until 1835 that the para
site was found in man. During the
next twenty-five- years it was proved
that there was a connection between
the disease in man and that of a hog;
and in 1867 the parasite was found in
the muscles of the latter. AVhence
the hog has derived it is an unsettled
question.
As long as the hog lives the parasite
remains dormant in the animal, like
the chrysalis of the butterfly. But
; when the hog's flesh is eaten, the tiny
capsules then are dissolved by the di
gestive juices, and trichinae are set
free.
A single meal may introduce many
thousands of them—over a million*
says one writer—into the stomach.
Tttus introduced they live from five to
six weeks in the intestines, each one
producing meanwhile a brood of at
least one thousand five huijdred. The
latter soon migrate towards the mus
cles, following the course of the blood
! vessels and nerves, and reaching their
goal about the tenth day.
Here, in five or six months, they pass
into a sort of chrysalis condition, to be
freed from it only by the gastric juices
of some other being; Similar migra
tions may follow, wave after wave
More or less, however, are swept out
of the intestines, possibly to find their
way back to their ancestral home in
the swine.
The trichinae have been found in ev
ery land. They have also been detect
ed in the cat, dog, rabbit, rat, mouse,
marmot, the wild hog of Europe, and
even in the hippopotamus.— Youth'a
Companion.