Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, August 16, 1883, Image 1
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY IN MUSSER'S BUILDING. Corner of ."Wain nnd Penn St*., ni SI.OO FPU ANNUM, IN ADVANCE; Or $1.91 If rwt paid io tdrancG. Acceptable Csmspasto Solicits! all letters to "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.