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"MILLHEIM JOURNAL."
The Outer and the Inner Life.
"That within which passeth ■how."— HAMUBT.
3Tr ie a aong within the 1 jra
That never yet was tung;
Unborn it lies upon each wire
That loosely hangs unstrung,
Until the minstrel's hand shall stiwfa
The slackened cords in tone again.
The bard's creative spirit give
That song a vocal soul to live.
There is a form that marble holds .
Beneath its surface rude.
Deep in the unhewn heart it folds
Beauty no eye has viewed,
Until the sculptor's hand shall scale
Each layer off that stony veil,
Until at last shall stand displayed
The perfect form of loveliest maid.
There is a poem never told
Within the poet's soul,
Like fabled streams o'er beds of gold
Beneath tho earth that roll,
Until some spell resistless wake
The soul in rhytlnuio song to break,
As burst 9 the stream into the light.
Bubbling with golden glory brignt.
There is a love—nor tougne nor lips
E'er told its deep desire;
Burning the heart, it silence keepe
Like subterranean fire,
Until some mighty passion-gust
Breaks through the outwaid iey crust,
And burning lava-words reveal
That love the heart would lain conceal.
Ihe song's unsung, unhewn the stone,
The poem's rhyme untold,
The hidden fire of love unshown
Beneath the surface cold.
Tis belter thu3: the secret kept
The wound unseen, the woe unwept
The outer life's deceltlul show,
The inner life that none may know.
—John F. Waller.
HETTY'S MISTAKE.
"He's dreadful hard to get along
with," said Mrs. Jennings, in a com
plaining voice. "As full o'f kinks and
freaks as an egg is of meat. But for
all that, I think that Mary would have
suited him if it hadn't been for Bela
Barlow."
"Girls is so queer," said Miss Hetty
Boone, screwing up one eye toward a
drapery of cobwebs that swung to and
fro in the north-east corner of the
room. "Ah-h-h-so inconsiderate, too!"
"But it's an ill wind that blows no
good to nobody," added Airs. Jennings,
with a Borean sigh. "Pr'aps you can
manage him, Alehitable, and in that
case it will be a good home for vou."
O
Hetty Boone bridled,
"As for that," said she, "1 don't deny
that I'd like to keep house for cousin
Jacob, well enough. A penny saved is
a penny earned, you know."
"But what is to become of us?"
whined Airs. Jennings, shaking out
the folds of a caKco-bordered. pocket
handkerchief.
"That's your own look-out," said :
Hetty Boone, indifferently, as she took
Dff her berege veil and folded it
mathematically up inside of her hat.
Air. Jacob Hopper lived in one of
those old peaked-roof farm houses
which still stand among the green
Connecticut meadows, like relics of a
past generation, with a well-scoop on
one side and a huge butternut tree
shaded its south exposure. Not a
vestige of paint remained on the sid
ing, the shingles were patched and re
patched, the fence tied up with string
and wire, the cow-shed propped with
posts of every size and dimension, and
yet there was a rumor in the neighbor
tood that old Jake Hopper was as rich
as Croesus.
He had only one extravagance, that
was his flower garden. Roses of the
rarest variety bloomed at the back of
the house, where early frosts could not
corrupt, nor stray boys break through
and steal. Expensive bulbs, imported
direct from Holland, painted the bor
ders with gold and scarlet in the early
spring. Choice shrubs occupied the
position of exterminated gooseberry
and currant bushes, and everybody be
lieved that Bela Barlow would have
gained the old man's good will in that
matter of pretty Alary Jennings' love
if he had not declared that he would
' rather have a bunch of good old-fash
icned "pinies and tiger-lillies" than all
cousin Jacob's Japanese hydrangeas
and blotohed coleus plants.
"Oh, Bela, how could you tell him
that?" said Mary, in despair.
"Wal, it was the truth," said Bela,
bluntly.
And as Miss Hetty Boone chanced
to be visiting there just at that time,
Mr. Hopper invited her to take charge
of his household in the place of his
widowed cousin and her daughter.
* "But it never would have happened,
mother," said Mary, with spirit, "if
Hetty Boone had not filled his mind
with doubts and ill-feelings toward us."
"Oh, Alary, don't be so uncharitable,"
said the meek widow.
"I don't intend to be, mother," said
Mary, "but I'm quite sure I heard her
telling cousin Jacob that I used too
much sugar in the spice-cookies, and
that your way of baking flannel-cakes
was foolishly extravagant She's a
sly, contriving old pussy-cat, mother,
and that's the long and short of it."
And Mrs. Jennings sighed, and made
no answer.
ifte fllillliriiit Journal,
DEININGER & BUMILLER, Editors and Proprietors.
VOL. LVII.
"Don't worry, mother, dear," said
Mary, caressingly. "You'll see that
we shall get along splendidly. Bela
has hired the blacksmith's shop, with
the little yellow house in the rear, and
I'll raise poultry and spring lambs, and
you shall sit in the parlor, like a lady,
with your best cap on, every day.
Cousin Jacob shall see that we can get
along without him, as well as he can
get along without us."
Alary Jennings drew up her trim,
little figure, and sett led the blue ribbon
in her braids, with a pretty conscious
ness of coming success, which, although
it might not be authorized, was cer
tainly very becoming. And so Bela
Barlow thought, for he added, conclu
sively;
"That's so!"
But love and youth can-Afford to be
generous. And so the two young
people went into cousin Jacob's sick
room, to bid him good-bv.
"60you're really going to be married,
be you?" said cousin Jacob, who look
ed as yellow and withered as so em
elderly mummy, among his pillows, in
the semi-darkened sick room. "Oh,
these rheumatics-rheumatics! Oh, oh!"
"That's what we're a thinking of,"
said Afr. Barlow. "It's well now as
ever."
"Y'es, yes, I dare say," said cousin
Jacob. "But don't shake hands with
me, please! It hurts! What was we
talkin' of? Oh, I remember now!
Gettin' married. It's all folly and non
sense, I think, and there ain't no sort
of doubt but. you'll both come to the
poorhouse. But Ptllv there's a good
girl enough, and so I mean to givo you
a weddin' present, for all you've used
me so bad!"
He paused here for a second, to groan
over the sudden twinges in his elbow
joints.
Bela Barlow's vision pictured a pair
of stout working oxen, at the very least.
Alary's imagination depicted a black
silk dress, or a set of willow-pattern
; china.
"And so," went on cousin Jacob, 1
"I'll give you six of them new gladioly
bulbs from New York —them as was a
dolla*- apiece, and can't be duplicated 1
at no price now. There!"
Bela Barlow was seized with a sud- !
den fit of coughing.
Alary Jennings answered, meekly;
"Thank you, cousin Hopper!"
And Airs. Jennings went out into
the back kitchen ;tnd cried.
"Hetty Boone'll give 'em to you,"
said Air. Hopper, complacently.
•'They're wrapped in a paper on the
shelf wffiere the garden tools are. And
mind you take good care of 'em. It's
just the time o' year to plant them out,
and ef they do well, money can't buy
> _ .1
em
And Mr. Hopper sank, alternately
groaning and chuckling, back among
his pillows.
So the young couple were quietly
married, and went to live in the little
yellow farmhouse behind the black
smith's shed.
"Hang the gladiolies!" said Bela
Barlow. "I've a good mind to feed
'em to the pig."
"Oh, Bela, don't!" said Mary. "Give !
'em to me. I'll plant 'em in the little j
south border. Cousin Jacob meant it
in all kindness, you know."
"But what do we care for gladiolies ?"
persisted Bela.
"Never mind," said Alary; "I'll plant
'em, all the same."
In the meantime, however, a storm
was brewing at the Hopper homestead.
Cousin Jacob, who had by this time
recovered so far as to hobble about
with a stick and a pair t>f carpet-slip
pers, did not relish his dinners as he
used to do.
"D'ye call this an onion stew ?" said
he. "Why, there ain't no sort o' flavor
about it."
And Aliss Boone, who had a chronic
catarrh, and could not taste anything
declared that the flavor was excellent.
'Humph 1 humph!" growled Jacob
Hopper, "I'd as soon eat so much
stewed rags! Put it in the pig's barrel,
Bring on your pudding. A man must
eat something!"
The pudding—one of the variety
known as "b'iled injin"—was brought
on, and luckily it proved to be tolerably
palatable.
So that, after the mid-day meal, old
Jacob went out to look for his bulbs
on the shelf.
"I'm late a-plantin' 'em," said he.
"But that's somethin' I never could
trust any one else to do. But, dear
me, this 'ere's a most onaecountable
circumstance. Where be they ?"
Hetty Boone was summoned from
her dish-washing to solve the problem*
"Gladioly bulbs!" said she. "I don't
know nothm' about 'em. How should
I?"
"But they were on the shelf here!"
said old Jacob. "In a flat, yellow pie
plate. Six of the Royal Princess
variety, at a dollar apiece."
Aliss Boone turned livid.
"I guess thg rats has got 'em," said
she. "Or, hold on, cousin Jnoob— you
give 'em to Bela Barlow's wife your
self."
"Them was in a blue pie-plate!"
ihrilly cried Mr. Hopper. "Where are
my gladiolies, ITetty Boone? That's
what I want to know. Twelve dollars
a dozen! Varieties as can't be replac
ed not for tho mint itself."
Miss Boone wisely got behind the
skeleton of tho old spinning-wheel.
"Wttl," said she, "if you must know,
Jacob J Topper, you eat them gladiolies
for your dinner. 1 s'posed they were
onions, and stewed 'em up. And, after
all, what's the use of such a mortal
fuss about a few dried-up old roots?"
So speaking, Alias Hetty fled for her
life, and none too soon, for Jacob Hop
per had seized the wooden rake in his
wrath.
"The Lord be good to me!" said the
repentant old man, as the sound of the
hanging kitchen door warned him that
Miss Hetty had got beyond the reach
of his rage. "I never struck a woman
yet, but I dunno what 1 might be
tempted to do it' that creetur had stay
ed on here."
Mary Barlow was weeding her china
aster bed, when cousin Jacob trudged
slowly ami painfully up to the black-
I smith's shop.
"Alary," said he, "have you planted
them bulbs?"
"Yes, cousin Jacob!"
"Well, you may dig 'em up ag'in,"
groaned the old man. "They ain't
nothin' but red onions. Hetty give
you the wrong lot. bhe b'iled the dol
lar-bulbs in a stew that tasted like old
newspapers. I'm p'isoned, for all I
know. And I dunno that it makes
much difference whether I be or not."
"Oh, cousin!"
"Mary," pursued cousin Jacob, "do
you s'pose your mother would come
back to keep house for me? Hetty
Eoone is going to-night. 1 hain't been
half-way comfortable since she came
to keep my house. And if you and
Bela would come, too, I'd let him have
► the farm on shares. Somehow, I'm
lonesome without you. And these
gladiola bulbs havG opened my eyes.
You nor your mother wouldn't have
made such a blunder as that. 1 ain't
ashamed to own that I've been in the
wrong, and you in the right. Will you
come?"
"Yes, cousin Jacob," Marv answer
ed, heartily kissing the old man.
So ended the reign of Miss Hetty
Boone. The fate of the gladiola bulbs
had sealed her doom. And all the
stipulation that cousion Jacob made,
was that their common tablo should
never be desecrated by the presence of
onion stew.
Death from Emotiou.
From America, says the London
Lancet , comes the record of a very in
structive case in which a man died
from fright, and where the death nar
rowly escaped being attributed to
ether. The patient had received a se
vere injury to his hip during some
blasting operations. Some days alter
the injury a consultation was held in
the Wilkesbarre Hospital, and it was
considered necessary to administer
ether. The man objected to this and
urged that his heart was weak, but it
was considered necessary to aniesthe
tise him. This decision seemed to af
fect the man strongly; he breathed
with great difficulty, asked for the win
dows to be opened, and died in a few |
minutes. No ether or other anaesthet
ic had been administered, and lie had
not suffered any p£in from the partial
examination of the hip that had been
made. No particulars of the actual
state of the heart are given, but wo j
are told that a "murmur" was present. ,
There is no difficulty, however, in trac- j
ing the death to a powerful inhibitory
influence upon a weak heart. Had the
surgeons begun to administer ether
this death would have been wrongfully
attributed to the effects of the anes
thetic.
A Queer Tree.
The queerest of trees must be the j
baobab, or monkey bread. It grows
to the height of forty feet, "but its
girth is entirely out of proportion to
its height, some trees being thirty feet 1
in diameter. An old baobab in Afri- I
ca is, then, more like a forest than a
single tree. Their age is incalculable."
Humboldt considers them as "the old
est living organic monuments of our
planet." Some trees are believed to be
5000 years old. You can cut a good
sized room into the trunk of a baobab,
with comfortable accommodations for
thirty men, and the tree lives on and
flourishes. It produces fruit about a
foot long, which is edible. As an ex
ample of slow growth in England, a
baobab at Kew, though more than
eighty years old, has only attained a
height of four and a half feet. A kin
dred species of the African baobab
grows in Australia. They have been
measured, being thirty feet high, with
a girth of eighty-five feet.
MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 16,1883.
A PAPER FOR THE HOME CIRCLE.
A RE TOUT RO SIGHT.
The Ceremonies of ft Rniiltn Pllgrlm<
to the hhrtne of lit. Nicholas,
In everything that Mrs. Scott-Ste
venson writes, sayf the London Athe
neum, we find a command of language
and descriptive powers far above the
average. The writer's energy and en
durance, too, are happily unimpaired ;
she has the same decided opinions,
likes and dislikes, and, above all, she
holds the same pleasant and unques
tioning belief that in every emergency
the knot will be untied by her husband
"Andrew's" superior judgment, or sev
ered, in the hist resort, by his strong
right arm. He had certainly no sine
cure, escorting a party of ladies for
whom an encounter with Greek bri
gands had more attraction than terror.
The "summer seas" which lave the
shores on which most of Airs. Scott-
Stevenson's scenes aw laid are the
.Egean, the Levant, and the Adriatic.
Her opinion of the j>eoplo of those re
gions wo are probably intended to
gather from the motto prefixed to the
volume, "Where every prospect pleases
and only man is vile." She is shocked
at the tilth and degradation of the
poorer quarters of Bari; but an Ital
ian traveler might match these in our
large towns. The most degrading
sight she saw in.ltaly was one with
which the Italians had comparatively
little to do, viz.: a Russian pilgrimage
to the shrine of St Nicholas at Bari:
They were all dressed in a kind of
uniform ; the men in gray, bare-foot
ed, with staffs slung over their shoul
ders, on which were tied bundles of
clothes and a pair of boots ; the wom
en wore blue serge skirts, gray jackets,
and red handkerchiefs round their
heads, and, like the men, carried bun
dles, with a water-bottle and tin mug,
011 their backs. They were all slowly
crawling up the steps with bleeding
knees and torn, travel - stained gar
ments, muttering prayers and endless
litanies as they toiled upward. On
entering the chyrch we saw a shocking
sight, so painful that I hesitate to de
scribe it. Four pilgrims were on their
knees, with their heads bent down io
the ground in the most unnatural atti
tude, their eyes tohut, and the swollen
veins standing out like cords from
their crimsoned foreheads. A man
walked by the side of each, holding one
end of a handkerchief, while the
wretched penitent held the other, and
was thus guided along the pavement.
For a few seconds we did not realize
what was taking place, but as they
crawled onward, we noticed four
marks like a dark ribbon behind them,
and it dawned on us that they were
actually licking the floor ! And such
a floor 1 Thousands of only half-civil
ized human beings bad been in the
church since daybreak, as .the tainted
atmosphere but too plainly showed.
For over eighty yards these wretched
creatures kept their tongues on the
rough pavement, over every pollution
that came in their way. We were
chained to our seats by horror and dis
gust, and in spite of ourselves stayed
till they at last reached the altar steps
and were permitted to rise. Their
faces haunt me still; the small, cun
ning eyes, turning stealthily towards
us and as hastily turned away ; half
shamefaced, half-ferocious looks ; the
coarse, dirt-smeared features, the mat
ted heads of hair, and the lolling, lace
rated tongues bleeding over their
chins. And these were fellow-crea
tures, these benighted wretches, look
ing like scared wild beasts.
Torpedo Warfare.
Torpedo attack in warfare is receiv
ing pretty close study abroad, and
English authorities are viewing the
subject in almost every possible light.
Altogether, it seems that the attack
has considerably the best of the de
fense in this case, for, after summing
up all the known methods of resisting
torpedo boat attacks, there seems to
bo comparatively little comfort to be
gained. Torpedo nettings, the use of
torpedoes from the ship which is at
tacked, machine guns and direct fire
of large artillery are all considered,
aDd in each case the verdict has been
there is more uncertainty than is de
sirable. The fast torpedo boats, capa
ble of discharging either long project
iles or torpedoes, having enormous
bursting charges are decided ugly cus
tomers, and no certain way has so far
been suggested by which their attacks
may be diverted. It is all the more
unsatisfactory because the small tor
pedo boats can easily discharge such
missiles at a speed considerably great
er than that of the fastest iron-clads
now afloat, many of them being able
to keep a speed of twenty miles an
hour for more than an hour at a time,
while but few, if any of the iron-clads
will be able to make anything like
that speed after having been at sea
two or three months. The final out
come of all the suggestions seems to
be that Gatling guns of one-inch bore
are, so far as known, the most effect
ive weaDon acrainst torpedo boat.
▲ MOTHER'S LAST LETTER.
Wtitled t* Her Son Shortly Before Wis
Bxeeutlon.
Of the thousands who read In the
Gazette the report of the Clarksville
executions none can have forgotten
the touching letter written to young
"Jimmie" Johnson a few days before
that fatal day. It was from his
mother, over whose humble home
brooded the desolation of tho impend
ing fate of her son, who, though a
blood-stained criminal in the eyes of
the law, was not less dear to her
whose eyes had looked upon him for
the last time.
She had received his own letter, Sfid
writes: "If I could see you ono time
more, how glad I would be!" ,But"
and who can depict the agony the
simple words cost their heart-broken
author?—"Aly darling boy, tho time is
close at hand when you will know
your doom. You asked me to forgive
you." Ask such a mother to forgive
her son—that mother who with
streaming eyes replies: "Ves; my
dear, if I could take your place I would
do it." "Who does not believe this?
Who does not feel that this poor
woman would gladly have mounted
the gallows that her darling boy might
be saved— and for what ? To plunge
once more into crime? What of that
to her ? Was he not her son, to whom
she wrote in her sweet, simple way:
"The yard is full of roses and other
flowers. It would look good if you
were here." But he was not there.
Never was he to be there again. And
though the sun's rays entered the little
yard and gilded the sweet flowers with
their golden sheen; though the
cherries had ripened—"the nicest
cherries you ever saw," she writes —
not for a moment could the demon of
anguish gnawing at this fond mother's
heart be driven away. "But, my
dear, I cannot enjoy anything. Y'ou
are never out of my mind." No won
der the young criminal, though walk
ing in the valley of the shadow of
death; though already feeling the fatal
noose tightening about his neck;
though listening to the tramp of arm
ed men coming to bear him to a felon's
death—no wonder, even in that awful
hour, he forgot his own doom and
thought only of her, who in her home,
far away, sat in the ashes of a grief
unutterable, of a devotion unfathoma
ble, and wept and grieved and prayed
JIS only a mother can weep and grieve
and pray! No wonder that he even
pleaded that her last letter might be
printed, that the world might know
how good and noble she was, that the
world might see her as site appeared
to him, whose errant footsteps had led
him into crime, and was breaking her
heart 1
"The children all send their love to
you. John is a good boy to work.
Galey and Nan have to work all the
time. John does all the plowing.
Lydie talks a great deal about you.
Alaud grows some." How tender and
lovingl Criminal, murderer, though
he was, to that bereft household he
was only the absent and loved one;
and in her grief the mother could thus
write. She felt that he would find
consolation in their childish, affection
ate remembrance. She could think
of all this, and then add in words
grandly eloquent in their simplicity,
and filled with tenderness and the
agony of despair: "I want you to
write me one more letter. This yiay
be the last one I can ever write to
you. Don't forget to pray, Jimtnie.
You know how well I love you, and 1
never got tired waiting on you when
you were sick. You don't know how
bad I felt when I heard you was sick
and I could not be with you. Now, I
my darling boy, trust in God and don't
grieve any more about me. Edy
wants to write. All the love to you
that a mother can have. Write my
dear boy, if you can."
Every line of this letter has moist
ened eyes with tears. Every line ap
peals to the sweetest sympathies in
human nature. It is the very sublim
ity of grief. It is the heart speaking.
No one who did not feel as this hum
ble, God-fearing woman felt could
write as she wrote, in that last letter
to the one being she most fondly
loved—to the one being who least de
served a mother's love and prayers
and tears.
Jnst a Way He Has.
City boarder to farm hand: "Why
does that old looking fowl make that
curious noise?" "That rooster that
jest crowed? Oh that's jest away he
has, ma'am, of signifyin' that he's a
high flyer from up the creek, and can
lick all creation, and that he's happy
because he ain't okl enough by eleven
years to make pot pie for summer
boarders."
Ex-Governor Stanford of Califor
nia, owns one ranch at Yin:t, Tehama
county, covering 25,000 acres of land.
It will be planted in grapes.
Terms, SIOO Per Year in Advance.
HCIEJfTIFIC SCRAPS,
M. DeLesseps states that the evapor
ating power of Ibo stin is Jess on the
Bite of the proposed inland sea of Sa
hara than on tile lied Sea. and he does
not anticipate that the waters will dry
up.
Geological examination reveals in
the delta of the Mississippi, along a
Bpace of 300 miles, ten distinct forests
of buried trees. Bald expresses with
a diameter of twenty-five feet have
been found.
A Chinese imperial decree has been
issued ordering that the telegraphic
lines between Woonsung and Shang
hai, and between Ainoy „and Haihon,
are to be constructed by the Chinese
themselves and not by Europeans or
other foreigners.
Prof. Joseph Lo Conte has come to
the conclusion that the supposed hu
man footprints at Carson, Nevada, are
the tracks of a large plantigrade qua
druped. lie adds that there is an
abundant room for honest difference of
opinion in the matter.
It is maintained by some scientists
that the aroma of fruits increases with
the latitude, while the sweetness de
creases. Many herbs, such as caraway,
are richer in essential oils in Norway
than in more southern regions. The
effect is ascribed to the influence of
the prolonged light of the summer
months.
Among Russian geologists the belief
appears to be settled that granite
rocks, once thought to be of igneous
and eruptive origin, are really of
aqueous formation. The granite of
the rapids of the Dnieper, when close
ly examined, show stratification, and
under the microscope they are seen to
contain drops of brown water.
Dr. Julien came to the following
conclusions in regard to the life of
stones, defining life as the period dur
ing which the stone presented a decent
appearance. Coarse brownstone, best
used out of the sun, from five to fif
teen years. Laminated fine brown
stone from twenty-fivo to fifty years.
Compact fine brownstone from one to
two centuries. Nova Scotia stone will
probably last from fifty to one hundred
vears. Ohio sandstone, the best of the
sandstones. I(X> years; Caen stone,
from thirty-live to forty years ; coarse
lolomite marble, forty years; fine mar
ble, sixty years; pure calcareous mar
ble, from fifty to one hundred years;
granite, from seventy-five to 200 years,
iccording to variety.
The Constern-Hon an Owl Made.
The action of the 'Washington mon
ument is watched most carefully and
its every movement registered. Two
plummets are suspended in its inside,
one from a height of 200 feet and tho
other from a height of 150 feet. The
movements of these are compared
many times a day. The movement of
one should be about one and one-half
times that of the other if there were
no irregular internal movement on the
part of the structure Hut the regis
ter shows that the movement is irreg
ular in both direction and in size.
Sometimes the plummets move in op
posite directions and sometimes in the
same. Sometimes the top moves a
little, but its whole sway since the
foundation was strengthened has been
only one-quarter of an inch. All of
these movements are very slight, and
oan only be detected with a micro
scope. The longer plummet line is en
cased in a wooden box, to prevent the
atmosphere having any effect upon it,
and since the finding that the spiders
had once drawn the line out of the
perpendicular, a careful investigation
is made daily, to see that the lines are
not influenced by outside causes.
Once, when great consternation was
caused by the irregularity of the line,
it was found that an owl was perched
upon the top of the line. It was
caught, killed, stuffed and given to
Mrs. Hayes, and it is now probably on
exhibition at Fremont.
She Took the Medicine.
The doctor had loved her long and
well, but dare not mention it. At
length she became indisposed and sent
for him. He could see nothing mater
ially wrong with her, except a little
irregularity about the heart, and at
length she asked:
"Well, doctor, what do you think
ought to be done for me."
Replied the doctor, "I don't know of
any better way than to go to the coun
ty clerk's and get a matrimonial per
scription."
"What and get married—why who
in the world would have me?"
"I will," replied the doctor.
"Oh, dear me, if that is the kind of
medicine you are going to give me, it
won't be so bad to take after all, will
it dear," replied the rapidly reviving
young lady. WinJieVl (IF. Fa.,) Irre
pressible.
NEWSPAPER LAWS.
"If unbßCribera order the diecontmnafcion of
newspapers, the publishers may continue to
send them until all arrearages are paid.
! I f snbscrilrere refuse or neglect to take their
newspapers from the office to which they are
pent, they are held responsible nntil they
hare 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 are then responsible.
1 ' ADVr.RTISIMJ HATES:
It wk. I mo. I j mot. 11 jrM
SI (XI * 3 (X) 1# 800 * 4 OS •* <
3 tX) 400 I 800 1 10 on I Ift w
k column I 600 8 001 12 001 90 00 I 30 Ofl
E column | 800 It W) I ynxij 36001 80 00 .
I One inch me km n aqmtn. ASmmmtrßtore Mil l i
cntorn" Vottcoc $3.60. Tranetent <tTfrt imrrymtn n<l '
local* 10 cent* ir linn for tir*t iiiMirtion end 6 eente per '
lino for each additional inaartiou.
NO. 32.
Things Not Ahrnjs What They Seen:#
Only tho lenf of a iobo'mvl, •
That foil to ball-room fl<mr,
Fell from tho tinted chillers
01" iho big hotiquul .-ho woro.
Quickly ho Stooped and n< iz< d it,
"'Tin the h-af a ro?o," wild ho,
"Tinti d with mirnmer blnslics,
And dourer than gold to mo.
"lively and IragmiiL petal,
Some swcot Hummer night, who knows,
I may have a chance to tell her
1 treasured the leaf ol the rose."
But when to his lips he pressed it,
He muttered in accents wroth;
The biauied thing is artificial,
And made out of cotton cloth."
Somervitle Journal.
• ! I
PUNGENT PARAGRAPHS.
Gayly colored fans are the latest ad
; vertising venture. Good thing to
"raise the wind."
One of the most trying moments in a
man's life is when he is getting his pic
ture taken to send to his best girl,
and is just assuming his most an
gelic expression, and a fly alights on
1 his nose.
"Mai" called the facetious small boy
i "Well, dear?" "I'm only one, ain't
I?" Yes, love." "Then if I eat this
green apple I'll be two, won't I?"
"How is that, dear?" "Why, it'll
double me up."
Longfellow said, "In this world a
man must be either anvil or hammer."
Longfellow was wrong, however. Lots
1 of men are neither the active hammer
nor the sturdy anvil They are noth
ing but bellows.
"Is that dog mad?" he asked the
boy as the animal dashed by. "I
reckon he is!" replied the boy; "just
see a butcher take a piece of meat
away from him and kick him six feet
into the air. Wouldn' you be mad if
that was done to you?"
A young carpenter wants to know
"what is a joggle-pieceT' Why don't
you read your dictionary? Webster
says a joggle-piece "is a truss post
whose shoulder and sockets receive the
lower ends of the struts." Good gra
cious, we thought everybody knew
what a joggle-piece is.
There is a beautiful practice com
mon throughout a portion of Mexico
for little children to kneel before
a stranger and pray that he may have
a safe journey. And the fathers of
the children have a practice not so
beautiful, of "laying for" the stranger
in the forest with a jacknife two feet
long.
Do you want to see some fun?" said
a small boy to his father. "Don't care
if I do," he replied. "Well lets go and
listen to Deacon Dumpy tack down his
carpets." "I don't think there's any
thing funny in that,"scornfully snorted
the parent. "Don't, eh? You seem
to forget that the Deacon stutters."
"Ah," said the old man. Then they
went over to hearken.
Indian Food In Arizona.
All the varieties of cacti bear fruit,
which is valued by the Indians for
food, says an Arizona letter. They
also cook the fleshy leaves of the
prickly pear when young, which are
said to resemble string beans in flavor.
The Indians also use the head of the
maguey, or century plant, for food.
It is found everywhre in the territory
and is cultivated for revenue in Mexi
co. It contains a large amount of
saccharine matter. The century hy
pothesis in regard to its blooming is a
myth, however, long since exploded.
Instead of requiring a hundred years
to attain maturity and blossom, the
plant blossoms in seven years from
making its first appearance. It then
dies, its mission ended. The leaves,
which are fleshy and stiff, with thin
edges covered with thorns, branch
from the root in long lances, growing
to the height of three or four feet.
The centre of the plant consists of a
large head, something like a cabbage.
From thi springs a pole, eight to
twelve feet high, which branches near
the top, bearing a yellow flower. The
Indians prepare the head for food by
roasting in an oven made of stones
sunk in the ground. We had an op
portunity to taste a piece of the
maguey so prepared, and found it de
licious, sweet and nutritious, tasting
very much like old-fashioned, home
made molasses candy. If that was a
specimen morsel, the Indians deserve
no sympathy on the score of their diet,
as it was really a luxury.
The juice of the plant is also con
verted in**> syrup and a fermented
drink, called tizwin by the Indians, and
the Mexicans distil it, making an in
toxicating liquor called mescal. We
also tested this liquor burnt, on an
omelet, and found it as good as brandy
for that purpose. In its natural state,
unburnt, it has a strong, pmoky taste,
resembling Scotch whisky. Many use
ful articles are made from the til/re < f
the maguey, ropes and even paper
havincr been manufactured from it.