The Millheim Journal, PUBLTBHED EVERY THURSDAY BY K. Office in the New Journal Building, Penn St.,nearllartman's foundry. SI.OO PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE, OR $1.86 IF NOT PAID IN ADVANCR. Acceptable Corresptace Solicited Address letters to MILLHEIM JOURNAL. B USINE SS CARDS• \ HABTER, Auctioneer, MILLHEIM, PA. Y B. STOVER, Auctioneer, Madisonburg, Pa. ■YY H.REIFSNYDKR, Auetioueer, MILLHEIM, PA. YYT. J. W. STAM, Physician & Surgeon Offlco on Mam Street. MILLHEIM, PA. JOHN F. HARTER. Practical Dentist, Office opposite the Methodist Church. MAIN STREET. MILLUEIM PA. T^ B GEO. L. LEE, Physician & Surgeon, MADISONBURG, PA. Offl ce opposite the Public Bchool House. P- ARD, M. D.. WOODWARD, PA. -JY O. DEININGER, Notary-Public, Journal office, Penn St., Millheim, Pa. 49"Deeds and other legal papers written and acknowledged at moderate charges. J. SPRINGER, Fashionable Barber, Havinq had many years' of experiencee the public can expect the best work and most modern accommodations. Shop 2 doors west Millheim Banking Hou*e MAIM STREET, MILLHEIM, PA. QJ2ORGE L. SPRINGER, Fashionable Barber, Corner Main & North streets, 2nd floor, Millheim, Pa. Shaving, Haircuttlng, Shampooning, Dying, &c. done in the most satisfac tory manner. Jno.H. Orvia. C. M. Bower. Ellis L.Orris QRVIS, BOWER & OR VIS, Attorneys-at-Law, BELLEFONTE, PA., Office in Woodings Building. D.H.Hastings. W. F. Rceder. TTASTINGS A BEEDER, Attorneys-at-Law, BELLBFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny Street, two doors east of the office ocupi&l by the late firm of Yocnm Hastings. J O. MEYER, Attorney-at-Law, BELLKFONTE, PA. At the Office of Ex-Judge Hov. M-M. C. HEINLE, Attorney-at-Law BELLEFONTE, PA. Practices in all the courts of Centre county Special attention to Collections. Consultations In German or English. A. Bearer. J. W. Gephart. BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Alleghany Street. North of High Street JGROUKERHOFF HOUSE, ALLEGHENY ST., BELLEFONTE, PA. C. G. McMILLEN, PROPRIETOR. Good Sample Room on First Floor. Free Buss to and from all trains. Special rates to witnesses and Jurors. QUMMINS HOUSE, BISHOP STREET, BELLEFONTE, PA., EMANUEL BROWN, psopsnrroß House newly refitted and refurulshad. Ev erything done to make guests comfortable. Rates inodera** trouage respectfully solici ted 5-ly JRVIN HOUSE, vMost Central Hotel in the city.) CORNER OF MAIN AND JAY STREETS LOCK HAVEN, PA. S.WOODS~CALDWELL PROPRIETOR. Good aamaple rooms lor oommerdal T'avel ors.on first floor. ill ipttlllittff littrttitl R. A. BUMILLER, Editor. VOL. 60. JOHN RAY. Be polite ; be agreeable. There Is nothing that will bring you such quick returns with so little invested. A smile takes nothing away from your face, but it beautilles it. A good action is a good cause, a civil word to the lowly, a helping haud to the needy, kindness to the suffering, and gentle words for all, will bring you love in return, and wiil become you m >re than anything else that I know of. Mr. Beutley was a young u.an who did not believe that politeuess paid '1 hate to see an everlasting grin on anybody's face,' he said one day, when he and several others were discussing the subject of politeness. 'ln the strug gle of life it is every one for himself. I have no time, nor inclination, nor hy pocrisy, to be spreading my mouth to a forced smile to everyone. I choose my companions and friends, and they are few and select. And this was Mr. Bentley's charac ter. He was taciturn, morose, and ut terly selfish. He never helped anyone in distress or trouble. He never tiied to cheer the sick nor solace the bereay ed. Even his "few and select" friends knew he could not te depended on in a case of emergency. He rejoiced in per fect health, and never thought that his strong frame would some day lie pros trate, languishing, helpless with dis ease. He was prosperous, not rich, but held a position that was remuner ative, never dreaming that he might possibly lose that position. But in less than a year from the time he uttered the above sentiment, he had lost it and was out of employment. The most prosperous will meet with reverses. Sometimes they teach great lessons. Mr. Bentley should have de ducted a lesson from the reverses that followed in the wake of his loss of posi tion. But he did not. He had no friends to rally to his aid, for he had taken no trouble to make friends in bis prosperity, lie made every effoit to procure another position, but all situa tions in his town seemed full. He answered an advertisement in an O paper. The city of O wa9 50 miles away. In a short time he receiv ed a reply to his letter of application. The letter was from the firm of Thom as Brothers, and it invited the young man to pay them a visit in person as soon as possible. If his papers.person al appearance, etc., suited them, they would employ him on a salary of one thousand dollars a year. This was far better than he expected. llis luck was returning. .He donned his tir.est clothes; his head was lost in the clouds. He did not see Mr. Little nod,nor hear Mr. Small speak. Ob, no. What had he to do with the common herd ? He could not see the poor and blind organ grinder, or drop a penny in his box. Not he ! He was on his way to O for the one thousand dollar clerkship. An old lady at the depot stopped him. 'Will you please tell me—' But she was interrupted by the would-be one thousand dollar clerk. 'Madam,' he said, rudely, 'that tick et agent is paid to answer questions apply to him.' 'Yes—but—sir—' She stopped, tor he had walked away and left her. 'Law, what will I do ?' she cried. 'The a gent hasen't got any better manners than he has. When I was young, men didn't treat old women like that. Well, law me 1 I wish Eli was here. This is the very last time I shall go any place alone. Oh, my—oq, dear—the train is coming—how will I get on, or how am I to tell when I get on the right one ? I'm just sure to get on the wrong one —oh, goodness me 1 Say. please—Mr. —sir 1 will you help me ?' again stop ping Mr. Bentley. 'ls this the train that goes north? Take this satchel rnr me—oh P Mr. Bentley turned red and hurridly passed her. 'Oh, shall I be left !' 'Let me help you,' said a kindly voice, and the old lady looked up to find a young man in a thread-bare coat, but with a frank and open countenance reaching out his hand for her bundles. She surrendered them to his care,and thanked him heartily. lie took her to the train, saw her safely and comfort ably seated, and then found a seat for himself in the same coach, in order to see her safely to the station where she was going. The old lady left the train at L , as did Mr. Bentley and the yoHng stranger. They hurried off to take the stage,as O wa3 not a railroad town. 'Madam,'said the stage driver, as the old lady went to get into the stage, 'my order is to the fair before starting.' The old lady fumbled in her pocket a minute then uttered an exclamation of dismay. 'My goodness gracious ! I forgot to bring my money! Eli—that's my hus band—told me I'd forget it. What shall I do—oh, what shall I do?' And she dropped a bundle, tried to pick it up, and dropped another. 'I am going MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 8., 1886. to O continued the distressed old lady. 'I am going there to see my so".8. They will pay yon, indeed they wi'l, if you will 'Won't do,' said the driver. 'My orders are strict. Can't disobay orders. Won't take any risks—for you know 1 might loss my job. Maybe this gentle- man will loan you the money,' point- ing to our friend, Mr. Bentley, who was seated in one comer of the coach ; 'or, whai'U be the same to me, will guarantee the pay.' 'Oh, will you ?' cried the old lady,' appealing to that gentleman, 'indeed, my sons will pay you. They are—' But. she was interrupted. 'Never mind what your sons are—l don't care to have their biography just now.' Then, turning to the man, he said, 'Don't be so free with your sug gestions, my friend.' 'I presumed ' began the driver. 'You presumed in your ignorance,' interrupted Mr. Beutley, harshly. 'lf 1 should give money to all the beggars I see, I should be unable to pay my wash bill. What are you waiting for ? I tell you I'm in a hurry to reach O—' 'I tell you,' said the big driver, in an angry voice, and looking at Mr. Ben tley fiercely, 'that I may be presumptu ous and ignorant, but I am a] man as won't take an insult without resenting it. If you can't be moreciyil, 111 take the liberty of dumping you out of there in the first mud hole we come to. As for going, I'll go when I get ready and not a minute before.' But nevertheless, he immediately pre pared to start. The old lady grew wild. 'Oh, must 1 be left ?' she ciied. 'What will my sons.Peter and William think ? I wish Eli was here. I'll never leave home again without Eli oh, stop 1 Wait ! Will some one—' and she ran against the same young man who had helped her on the train at C . 'Oh, lam so glad ! I know you will help me I' And she caught the young man's hand in hers. *1 want to go to O , sir, and I left my money at home—and I must get there to-day.' 'I am on my way there myself,' said the youth with a troubled air. 'I was going there to see the Thomas Brothers about a position in their store. I ought to be there to-day—to-morrow may be too late—but—but—well, you shall go —l—yes—you 9hall go !' lie took out a purse and emptied the contents in the hand of the old lady ; just barely enough to pay one fare on t he stage to O . 'Oil, but how will you get there,' asked she, 'if you give me all your money ?' 'I cau walk,' he answered cheerily. 'Never mind me. lam used to walk ing.' 'You are an honor to your mother,' said the woman with emotion. 'A good mother, I'll be bound.' And then, seeing the tears spring to his eyes, she surmised that he had recent ly lost that mother, and continued: 'Yes, I understand ; and you couldn't bear to seo an old lady in trouble with out helping her for your own dear mother's saka. What is your name ? My sons will pay you as soon as you reach O—.' 'My name is John Riy,' he said. 'Well, good-bye, John Rav,' said the old lady, as he helped her into the coach. 'I wish you success. I think you will get the place.' She nodded vigorously, 'Yes. yes, I hope you will, John Ray.' And, with beaming eyes, she shook John Ray's hands as vigor ously as she nodded. 'Oil, won't Eli what won't be do when I tell hi.n ?' 'Are you all ready ?' cried out the driver. 'Because if you ain't, I want you to understand I ain'i in any hurry; take your time. All ready, hey? Then off we eo I' And off they went, leaying John Ray to walk twenty mMes. And the simple soul filling his place in the coach would shed tears whenever she thought of him walking wearily alone over the road. But her eyes shone through the tears. Could you see those tears, John, the road would sem shorter. Could you know the gratitude in that good heart, your limbs would be less weary. They at length arrived at O—. Mr. Bentley registered his name, in a large hand, in the most aristocratic hotel in that city. 'Much depends,' he soliloquized, -ou appearances. Should I put up at a less pretentious house than this, it might be the means of my failing to get the position lam after ' Then he thought of John Ray, and the fragment of con - versation he had overheard between him and the old lady. 'Ha I ha !' he laughed at the thought. 'What kind of a chance can so shabby a fellow have against me I am not quite sure but that the "me" should begin with a cap ital letter. It sounded so very impor tant. 'He is trudging along now be tween here and L- . Why what a fool the fellow is l lam sitting comfort ably here —shall soon eat a warm sup per—while he is dragging himself along A PAPER FOR THIS HOME CIRCLE hungry and tired, and without money to buy anything to eat, or u place in which to sleep.' Ho seemed to take delight In these reflections. Tho contemplation of the deprivation and Muttering of others .seems to be a prodigious comfort to many. It had quite a solacing effect on Mr. Bentley, for lie was not rich. It mu9t ho admitted that his success depended on his securing this position witli the Thomas Brothers. It was late in the waning when the stage reached O and the business house of Thomas Bros, was closed. But early the next morning Mr. Ben'ley waited ou the brothers, and presented his recommendations. There were other applicants, atnnng whom was John Ray. Mr. Beutley would not recognize him. Truly, lif it djpended on ajipearahces John Hay stood no pos sible chance for the situation. 'Good papers !' cried William Tliom a, when lie had finished reading Mr. Bentley'3 references. 'Splendid recommendations I' ech oed the brother. 'Best ones we have received yet. Is it not so, William ?' Mr. Bentley flushed withp leisure and swelled with vanity. 'Where are your papers,young man?* asked William, turning to John Ray, who sat quietly with his face averted. No wonder, for his hop? 8 were fleeing away,and he knew his face would show his disappointment. 'I have none,' he said. 'I never fill ed a like position, sir, and consequent ly can give no references.' 'You mu9t have references,' said the brothers, 'or we cannot consider your application.' 'I have none,' again said John Riy ; and now all hopes had fiiwn, and his pale face showed it. 'I think, youug man, you come-well recommended,' said William. 'Does he not Peter ?' Peter laughed and nodded, and the brothers got closer to John Ry. 'The best reference in the world,' cried Peter, with such an affectiouate look at John that William feared he meant to embrace him, sad put out Ins band to prevent it, for fear of spoil ing the denouement. John looked puzzled. They both laughed and repealed . 'Good recommendation ! Mother !' they called, and in came the old lady of the day before. 'Mother, which of these young men do you recommend to us for a clerk ?' The old lady walked straight up to John and said : 'I recommend by all means, uiy dear sons, the young man who was kind enough to aid a helpless 'old beggar' to reach home ; who loved the memory of his mother so well that he walked 20 long miles to let your mother ride. Not for a reward, boys. No. though he was poor and helpless; and now, if a deed like that won't recommend John Itay more than all the recommenda tions that were ever written, indeed, then I don't know my dear boys ' And eacli of the brothers got John by the hand, while Mr. Bentley retired with a crestfallen air. Let us hope that this little episode taught Mr. Bentley the lesson tnat kindness brings its own reward. That to be loved by our fellow man is the highest earthly pleasure to be enjoyed. That to be kind and sociable to all is to win love. To be accommodating, sym pathizing, helpful, is to retain that loye when won. That no good action or kind word is lost, but is written with an indelible pen in tne Recording Angel's Buok, and preserved through eternity. A SLICE OF LUCK. A traveler in the south of France was recently going through a forest, when lie suddenly met with a dozen, as he thought, suspicious characters. His first thought was of escape ; but, to his great astonishment, one of them came forward, and, after some conver sation about trees, summarily offered one hundred napoleons if he would re tire. The traveler said lie had no ob jection. and to his surprise the sum was given him, and he went on his way rejoicing. He applied to the authori ties when he discovered that a large sale of torest trees took place that day, to which the local buyers had been bid den, and these men composed a 'knock out,' that is, had conspired to prevent any one elso bidding, in order that they might abtain the timber at a cheap rate. The traveler was supposed by tliem to be a well-known timber mer chant, and to have entered the forest for tho purpose of bidding, so he was bought off. Tramp—"Will you please give me ten cents, sir ? I'm ou my way home to die." Gentleman-—(lmndmg him the mon ey)— 14 ! don't mind giving you ten cents for so worthy a purpose as that, but your breath smells terribly of whis key." Tramp—"l know it does, sir. Whis key's what's kiilin' me." Kicking a Governor. In the summer of 1878 there was a gathering of executive officers of differ ent States at Cape May, and Governor Thomas L. Young, of Ohio, was among the number. lie and B. K. Jamison were friends, so the latter ten dered him the use of his beautiful cot tage for himself and staff during their stay at the seashore. One afternoon a number of gentlemen called to be intro duced to the governor, who was busy op-stairs playing euchre. lie was 'go ing it alone' at the time, and, turning to Jamison, said : 'Wait until I make my march and then I'll go to the recep tion with you.' Ho didn't make his march, however, but on the contrary, greatly to his disgust, he was 'euchred.' Rising from his chair he turned his back to his host and said : 'Jamison, I wish you would give me a good kick ; I feel that I deserve it.' His host re plied, 'You don't mean it governor?' 'lndeed 1 do,' was Tom's response. 'Try me and see.' The words had hardly left his lips when the toe of Jamison's boot struck the governor with such suddenuess that the concussiou nearly sent him ov er on his face. The guests were horri fied for a moment, but the governor, with the greatest honor, said: 'Boys, I got off with very light punishment. Out in Ohio when a man gets euchred oil a lone hand they usually take him out and hang him to the nearest lamp post.' Then he went down and receiv ed his visitor?. That night, before re tiring, the governor saicf: 'Jamison, do you know that you would make a capital soldier !' 'No,'was ? the reply- 'What makes ydu think so ?' 'Because you are so obedient to ord ers. Obedience, you know, is the first duty of a soldier, and you have the A llC's down Will you accept a commission on my staff ? It means a colonelcy.' Mr. Jamison didn't see any harm in Hccoptiiitf, wluui Gov- Young re turned to Ohio he forwarded the com mission duly signed and sealed. Then a difiiculty arose Mr. Jamison was a citizen of Pennsylvania, and the com mission required that he shou'd swear allegiance to the State of Ohio. This provision was stricken out, and theu 'K. B. Jamison' became 'aid-de-camp on the staff of his Excellency, Thomas L. Young, governor of Ohio, with the rank and title of colonel.' The com mission, handsomely framed, now hangs in the handsome residence of Col. Jamison in West Philadelphia,and he prizes it very highly.— Philadelphia Xeics. How the New Mexicans Capture Ants. An automatic combination self-ad justing ant trap and intoxicating ma chine has been in use for years in New Mexico and Arizona, which is worthy of careful civilized attention. The chief blessing of that arid section is held to tie mescal, a fiery liquor d'still ed from a species of cactus, and the principle curse is an immense black ant that considers himself proprietor of any premises to which his nest may belong. It is said that the natives could not live without either the mus cal or the ants,for while it is only mes cal that can make a Mexican's life en durable with the ants, it is only the ants that wake a Mexican from the pro found coma into which the mescal plunges him. The ancient Mexicau method of try ing to get rid of an ant's nest was to fl'l up the main hatch with fine gun powder and touch it off, keep a fire burning over it night and day a week, or drown it out with boiling lye. TbeNinly result was that tire ants would stay down cellar until the trouble was over, and then cheerfully repair the damage done to their dwelling, and 'lay for' the Mexican in ;the fallen t watches of the night with a vigor and alacrity that were truly awful. Oue day a desperate Mexican poured a quart of mescal down his throat and buried the bottle in the corner of the principal ant's nest in his yard,'/ m with the intention of filling it with gunpow der and blowing both himself and his enemies out of the territory. Having buried the bottle to the neck, he went to the trader's to get the powder. When he returned, he found that the bottle was filled with ants, whom curi osity had prompted to drop in, and who, unable tojclimb out, were indulg ing in a rough and tumble fiee fight that did the Mexican's heart no end of good. Another bottle was quickly pro cured and filled,and by sunset the Mex ican found himself proprietor of seven quarts of ants in various stages of mu tilation and wrath. To shake these Into a bonfire was easy, and thu3 in a day the colony was broken up forever. The writer has seen two pounds of rifle powder rammed into an ant's nest and prove ineffective in its destruction, while by the bottle system the work was thoroughly accomplished in less than a week by the capture of the last ant in the community.—(Science A merican, Terms, SIOO per Year, in Advance. The Man who Never Forgot a Face The passenger who was never known to forget a (ace sat dowu beside a freckled young man with a sandy mustache. "Seems to nic I 'vo seen you be fore," said the never-forget-you pass enger. "Possibly," replied the freckled young man, "my name is Smith, of Jonesville, Mich." "What! Smith, of Jonesville." "Yes, John Smith, of Jonesville. Did you ever live in Jouesvillc ?" "Should say I did. Lived there ten years. Knew I had seen you somowhere before. I never forget a face. I knew you as soon as I sot eyes on you. Never forgot a face io my life." "How long since you left that old town ?" "Let me see ; it was twenty-seven years last June. That's a loHg time ain't it? Hain't been back there since, but your face is as fresh in my mind as if it were only yesterday. "Now this is odd," said the freck led young' mau ; you haven't been in Jonesville for twenty-seven years. I haven't been out of it for twenty seven years, and I am ju§t seven years old. I must have been born the year you left our town. Do you still think you remember me ?" "Remember you, lad ? Why, I know you the second I saw you. I was your godfather at your christen ing, and you think I would forget a face that was impressed on my mind in so solemn a ceremony as that ? No, siree. I never forget a face, young man, never." A Young One. A man in pursuit of a goose for his dinner was attracted by the sight of a plump, extra-sized one. 'ls that a young one?' said he to the rosy-cheeked lass in attendance. 'Yes, sir, indeed it is,' w.as the re ply. 'How much do you want for it ?' he asked. 4 A dollar, sir.' 'That is too much, I think ; say five eighths and here's your money.' 'Well, sir, as I would like to get you as a steady customer, take it.' The goose was carried home and roasted, but was found to be so tough as to be uneatable. The following day the man accosted the fair poulter er : 'Did you not tell me that goose was young which I bought of you V 'Yes, sir, I did, and it was 'No, it was not.' 'Don't you call ineja young woman/ I'm only nineteen f 'Yes.' 'Well, I've heard mother say, many a time, that he was nearly six weeks jounger than me.' A mild-mannered German cook, who does business in a small way in Grand street, chanced to fall overboard from an East river ferryboat. He was res cued after much trouble by three young men—a hand and two longshoremen. While the German's recovery seemed a matter of extreme uncertainty the three young men quarreled oyer the credit of having rescued him. Eacli man wish ed the glory of shining on the station house blotter as a rescuer, with perhaps the chance of subsequent material re ward. Before they had succeeded in settling the matter to their mutual sat isfaction they were forcibly drawn apart by the police. 'See here,' said the officer, l you can't settle this thing by fighting.' 'That's so,' assented the smallest of the three. 'I can prove without fight ing that I saved|that man.' 'Let's see you do it, then, and be lively.' 'l'ye got my private mark on him.' '.Show your mark and giye us less of your jaw.' The young man stepped blithely to the side of the half-conscious man, pul led aside the blanket that covered him, and pointed triumphantly to a two inch gash in the fleshy part of his back. 'There!' said he; 'there's my private mark! There's where I struck the boat-hook into him !' His name went down on the police blotter without further question.— New York Times. A sunshade has been devised for soldiers in hot countries. It is made of bamboo and paper, and has no appre ciable weight. It is fastened to the shoulders and leaves the hands and arms free. Something of the same kind has, we belieye, been patented in this country. NO. 14 His Private Mark. NKWBPAPER LAWS If subscribers order thfe discontinuation of newspapers, the publishers may continue to send them until all arrearages sue paid. Jf subscribers refus< or nejrtcct to take their newttpaiiers from the office to w iileh they are sent they are held responsible until tlie.v liavUecttled the hills and ordered Uun diuott>ied. If subscribers movetootlier places without In formiiiK the puWb-lUT, and the ks am sent to the former placb, I lie? are respdhblbfe. til- 1 - i'Ul ADVERTISING RATES. 1 wk. 1 mo. | ,11nos. fimos. 1 vcu 1 square *ux)J s:.<*> t tiVQ ss<co '/(column 41*> dttoi WW won iaofl " 71*1 . Wool 15 00 d00 40at I " woo. - lAnul l r 0U ■ 4.100 7500 One Inch makes a twuaro. Ailinibjslratora and Executors' Maim #7.50. Transient aaver tlsenienis und locals 10 rents nor line for Oral Insertion and 5 couth per fine for each addition al insertion The Home of Presidents. A Tour Through the Rooms of the White House. Beauties of the Exooutivo Mansion —The Parlors—Handsom9 Hall ways —President's Dining - Room. Up the steps of the portico and through the large entrance vestibule, we see an inner corridor separated from it by a handsome screen of ghiss mosa ic. It is In itself a spacious apartment, eighteen feet wide and 100 long, reach ing from the middle of the east room at one end to the conservatory.at tl:e other. South of this corridor aie lliree parlors, named respectively the Green room, Blue room and Red room, from the prevailing color of decorations and furniture. West of the Red parlor, at the extreme southwestern end of tlw mansion, is the statu diuuiug-rooun, and on the north side of the corridor, directly opposite, we find the Presi dent's private dining-room, which occu pies—with butler's pantry and the ser vants' waiting room immediately ad joining—the northwest froat of the building. Under this room, in the basement, is thekitchen. On the north side of the corridor is also situated the ' priva e staircase leading to the cham bers. This portion of the corridor, which is the length of the state dining room, can be separated at will from the more public and longer portion on the east, by double doors of inlain mahoga ny. This long hall-way is an important part of the White House, and is treated accordingly. It is only lighted in the day time by the doors opening Into the parlors and from the open arches over the jeweled screeu, so tliat no photog rapher has been able to secure a good picture. The walls, painted a warm creamy-gray, are finished with a sien ciled frieze, two feet deep, light green, gold and crimson, in conventional de signs. The ceiling, a lighter tint of gray, is covered with figuies in mixed colors, interspersed with brown and silver decorations in relief. A large semi circular niche IU the waU imjnedi ately opposite the front entrance and screen door, is gilded and <s6ntains a circular table of ebony and marble. Thi3 crimson Axrainister carpet, well covered with small figures of a deeper shade, imparts a richness of tone which is very desirable in the half-light of the day, and which responds, at night, to the light of three immense crystal chandeliers. The furniture frames arc ebony ; the fabric, cream colored brocade figured with shaded crimson. On the walls bang the por traits of most of the Presidents, save that of Washington, which is in the East room, and those of Van Buren, J. Q. Adams and Arthur in the Red parlor and Jefferson in the Library room above. In the western angles the busts of Washington and Hamil ton, on pedestals of ebony, gaze with sightless eyes upon the ever-changing panorama. The private' corridor on the west is fitted up still more like a reception room. Each corner angle is cut off by a tail cabinet of ebony, containing fai ence and plants in majolica holders,; doorways are liuug with portieres of Turkoman, in brown, yellow and crim* son, with horizontal stripes, and there are Eastlake chairs of ebony with seats and backs of embossed leather. A hex agon table with rosewood frame and marble top, according to tradition, was frequently used by Jackson, when he lived in the White House, about the only article, in this part of the build ing, left from that comparatively late period. The wall tints of the private corridor are darker than those of the larger one—a kind of greeuish gray— with a parti-colored Japanese frieze, thirty inches deep. The broad stair case with one loug landing, leading to the second istory, is finished with a hand r.iil and balusters of mahogany, and from the large carved newel-post a female figure in bronze, nearly life-size, holds, metaphorically a torch, in reality a very prosaic gas fixture. The remain ing figure consists of a mahogauy table, before a mirror framed in the same wood. At the foot of the stairs a door on the left or north side, leads into the Presi dent's private dining room. The walls of this room are hung with heavy pa per, imitating leather, a gilt ground with vines of shaded oliye and crimson, and a frieze, thirty inches deep, of dark torra-cotta stamped velvet, with gilt molding. The ceiling is greenish gray. The white marble chimney piece and mantel are draped with crimson plush, and the same fabric covers the frame of the larger plate glass mantel mirror above. Axminister carpet of dark, green is well covered witli figures in shaded olive and crimson. The mahog any chairs have dark green leather on the seats, with backs of wood. The woodwork of the room is painted a light tint of the walls. The finest fea tures of the room are two large caryed mahogany sideboards, one 011 the west side of the room, the other on the south. The one on the right is a fine specimen of Cincinnati carying and dates from the administration of Mr. Hajes; the other was procured when the entire room was furnished anew under the direction of Mr. Arthur. Both are laden with plate and fine spec imens of the ceramic art. All the movable furniture and plate of these rooms are under the care of the stew ard, who is required to give bonds to the value of $20,000, before entering upon his duties.
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