The Millheim Journal,
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MILLHEIM, FA.
yjH J. W. STAM,
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Oflics on Penn Street.
MILLHEIM, FA.
yy R. JOHN F. H ARTER.
Practieal Dentist,
Office opposite the Methodist Church.
MAIN STREET, MILLHEIM PA.
ry GEO. L. LEE,
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MADISONBURG, PA.
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Havinq had many years' of (xperiencee
the public can expect the best work and
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Shop opposite Millheim Banking House
MAIN STREET, MILLHEIM, FA.
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Corner Main & North streets, 2nd floor,
Millheim, Fa.
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Dying, &c. done in the most satisfac
tory manner.
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QRVIS, BOWER & ORVIS,
Attorneys-at-Law.
BELLEFONTE, PA.,
Office in Woodings Building.
D.H.Hastings. W. F. Reeder.
JJASTIXQS & REEDER,
Attorneys-at-Law,
BELLEFONTE, FA.
Office on Allegheny Street, two doors east of
the office ocupied by the late Arm of Yocum A
Hastings.
T C. MEYER,
AUorney-at-Law,
BELLEFONTE FA.
At the Office of Ex-Judge Ho v.
C. HEINLE,
Attorney-at-Law
BELLEFONTE, PA.
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Attorneys-at-Law,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office oil Alleghany Street. North of High Street
JGROCKERHOFF HOUSE,
ALLEGHENY ST., BELLEFONTE, PA.
O. G. McMILLEN,
PROPRIETOR.
Good Sample Room on Fir9t Floor. Free
Buss to and from all trains. Special rates to
witnesses and jurors.
QUMMINS HOUSE,
BISHOP STREET, BELLEFONTE, PA.,
EMANUEL BROWN,
PROPRIBTOR
House newly refitted and refurnished. Ev
erything done to make guests comfortable.
Ratcsraodera** tronage respectfully solici
ted 5-ly
JRVIN HOUSE,
(Most Central Hotel in the city.)
CORNER OF MAIN AND JAY STREETS
LOCK HAVEN, PA.
S. W OODS~OALD WELL
PROPRIETOR.
Good sameole rooms for commercial Travel
ers on first floor.
R. A. BUMILLER, Editor.
VOL. 00.
CLEAR GRIT.
About thirty years ago said Judge
P , I stepped into a book store in
Cincinnati in search of some books
that I wanted. While there a little
ragged boy not over twelve years of
age, came in and inquired for a geog
raphy.
'Plenty of them,' was the salesman's
reply.
'How much do they cost ?'
'One dollar my lad.'
'I did not know they were'so much.'
He turned to go out, and even open
ed the door, but closed it again, and
came back.
'I have got sixty-one cents," said
he ; 'could you let me have a geogra
phy, and wait a little while for the rest
of the money ?'
How eagerly his bright eyes looked
for an answer, and liow he seemed to
shriuk within his ragged clothes, when
the man, not very kindly, told him he
could not. The disappointed little fel
low looked up to me, with a very poor
attempt to smile, and left the store. I
followed him, and overlook him.
'And what now ?' I asked.
'Try another place, sir.'
'Shall I go, too.and see how you suc
ceed ?'
'O yes, if you like," said he in sur
prise.
Four differeut stores I entered with
him, and each time he was refused.
'Will you try again ?' I asked.
'Yea, sir ; I shall try them all, or I
should not know whether I could get
one.'
We entered the fifth store and the
little fellow walked up manfully, and
told the gentleman just what he want
ed and how much he had.
'You want the book very much ?'
said the proprietor.
4 Yes, very much.'
'Why do you want it so yery much ?'
'To study, sir. I can't go to school,
but I study when I can at home. All
the boys have got one and they will get
ahead of me. Betides, my father was
a sailor, and I want to learn of the
place where he used to go.'
'Does he go to these pDces now ?'
asked the proprietor.
'He is dead,said the boy,softly ; then
be added after awhile, 'I am going to
be a sailor, too.'
'Are you, though ?' said the gentle
man, raising his eyebrow curiously.
'Yes, sir, if I live.'
'Well, my lad, I will tell you what I
will do ; I will let yon have a new ge
ography, aud you may pay the remain
der of the money when you can or I
will let you have one that is not quite
new for fifty cents.'
'Are the leaves all in it, and just like
the other, only not new ?'
'Yes, just like the new ones.'
'lt will do just as well, then, and I
will have eleven cents left toward buy
ing some other boon. I am glad they
did not let me haye one at any of the
other places.'
The bookseller looked up inquiriug
ly, and I told what I had seen of the
little fellow. He was much pleased,
and when he brought the book along, I
saw a nice new pencil, and some clean
white paper in it.
*A present, my lad, for your perse
verance. Always have courage like
that and you will make your mark,'
said the bookseller.
'Thank you sic ; you are very good.'
•What is your name ?'
'William Havely.'
'Do you want any more books ?' I
now asked him.
'More than I can ever get,he replied,
glancing at the books that filled the
shelves.
I gave him a bank note. 'lt will buy
some for you,' I said.
Tears of joy came to his eyes.
'Can I buy what I want with it ?'
'Yes, my lad, anything.'
'Then I will buy a book for mother,'
said he. I thank you very much, and
one day hope I can pay you back.'
He wanted my name, and I gave it
to him. Then I left him standing by
the counter, so happy that I almost
enyied him ; and it was many years be*
fore I saw him again.
Last year I went to Europe on one
of the finest vessels that ever ploughed
the waters of the Atlantic. We had
very beautiful weather until very near
the end of the voyage ; then came a
most terrible storm, that would have
sunk all on board had it not been for
the captain. Every spar was laid low,
the rudder was almost useless, and a
great leak had shown itself, threaten
ing to fill the ship. The crew were all
strong, willing men, and the mates
were practical seamen of the first class;
but after pumping for one whole night,
and the water still gaining upon them,
they gave up in despair, and prepared
to take boats, though they might have
known no small boat could ride such a
sea. The captain, who had been below
with his charts, now came up. He
saw how matters stood, and with a
yoice that I heard distinctly aboye the
MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY. SEPTEMBER 10., 1880.
roar of the tempest, ordered every man
to his post.
It was surprising to see those men
Itow to the strong will of their captain,
and hurry back to the pumps. The
captain then started below to examine
the leak. As he passed me 1 asked if
there was any hope. He looked at me
and then at the other passengers, who
had crowded up to hear the reply, and
said rebukingly :
'Yes, sir, there is hope as long as one
inch of this deck remains aboye the
water ; then I shall abandon the vessel
and not before ; nor one of my crew,
sir. Everything shall he done to save
it, and if we fail, it will not l>e from
I inaction. Bear a hand every one of
you, at the pumps.'
Tht ice during the day did we dis
pair ; but the captain's dauntless cour
age, perseverance, and powerful will
mastered every man on board and we
went to work again.
'I will land you safely at the dock in
Liverpool, said he, 'if you will be men.'
And he did land us safely ; but the
vessel sunk moored to the dock. The
captain stood on the deck of the sink
ing vessel, receiving the thanks and
blessing of the passeugers as they pass
ed down the gang plank. As I passed
he grasged my hand and said :
'Judge F , do you recognize
me ?'
I told him I was not aware that I ev
er saw him until I stepped abord his
ship.'
'Do you remember the boy in Cin
cinnati ?'
'Very well, sir ; William Havely.'
'I am he,' said he. 'God bless you.'
'And God bless noble Captain Ilave
ly.'—Baptist Union.
Waiting for the Train.
Gentle reader, did you ever notice
the man who is waiting for the train ?
He walks into the depot, and after
wandering around and gazing at all the
time-tablos, sits down with a sigh and
begins to read his paper ; hut before he
has had time to read an item about a
man being bitten to death by New Jer
sey mosquitoes, he is on hit feet again.
He hurries up to the ticket office and
inquires : "Is there a train for New
Ilayen at 11.30 V
'Yes, sir.'
Then he goes back to his seat again,
but suddenly he looks up again at
the clock,and hurries again to the tick
et office with the inquiry, 'is that clock
right ?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Thanks.' Here he wanders out on
the platform and walks up and down a
few times, but the impulse is too
strong and he again appioaches the
peddler of tickets.
'I suppose the train is on time, to
day ?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Ali right ; thank you.'
This time he goes to where he left
his gripsack and paper and moves them
to another seat, and having arranged
them to his satisfaction he again nears
ihe ticket window.
'ls that ice water in the cooler over
Ihere ?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Much obliged. You say the train is
on time V
'Yes, sir.'
'And you're sure about the clock be
ing right ?'
'Yes, sir.'
'There—is that my train coming in
now ?'
'Yes, sir.'
'All right ; thanks.'
And then the patient ticket agent
closes the window and sits down to
wait for the next fiend who wants to
take the train.
Not Used to Being Commanded.
Owing to the royal dinner party at
Hurlingham on Saturday, the Frince
of Wales was unable to be present at
the debuts of Mrs. Mackintosh and
Miss Steer. Apropos of the dinner, an
amusing incident took place in the af
ternoon, which proves that our trans
atlantic cousins have much atill to
learn with regard to court etiquette.
The Princess of Wales, having pre
viously met and admired the recitation
of the latest pretty American export,
graciously requested her presence at
dinner that evening, upon which the
fair reciter expressed her regret at not
being able to accept the honor offered
her, urging as an excuse that she had
promised to chaperon some young la
dies to Mrs. Mackintosh's debut. Her
Royal Highness replied, with a quiet
smile of amusement: 'Then I am a
fraid you must get your friends to
kindly excuse you, for I shall expect
you,' and left the free-born American
to discover that royal wishes in this
country are commands.— L ondon
B orld.
The bill collector's work is always
dun before he gets his pay.
A FAFELL FOR THE HOME CIRCLE.
SNAKES IN TROUBLE.
How an Old Farmer Cleaned Out
an Army of Black Snakes.
Mr. Wel!ei, residing about two miles
south of Middleburg, at the foot of
Shade Mountain, while engaged in
clearing a piece of new ground on ills
farm on Thursday of lost week, was
terribly annoyed by the number of
black snakes on the patch. Some he
killed but a great many escaped his
•♦brush fork," and nearly all ran in the
direction of a large brush pile in the
corner of the patch and close to a bank
over a spring which was covored by a
thick growtli of underbnißh. He con
cluded to investigate matters a little
and it did not take him long to satisfy
himself that he had struck a colony of
the reptiles which had taken harbor
under the pile of dry brush.
He noticed a particularly large one
basking in the sun a few yards from
the place, and he proceeded to get a
rail from the fence with which to de
spatch it, but in doing so he broke one
of the stakes on the fence. The noise
caused by the breaking of the stake ev
idently aroused the sleeping reptiles,
and he witnessed a perfectly volley of
snakes darting from under the thick
underbrush into the brush pile. He
stood riveted to the spot with astonish
ment, and looking up saw no less than
twenty snakes of all sizes stiking their
heads out of the brush pile. Remem
beriug that he used a bundle of long
straw for a seat on his "stone boat."
he hastened to get it, and setting it ou
fire cast it over the brush.
In an instant the whole pile was one
blaze, and he then witnessed a scene
which he says no one would ever care
to behold again. The heat was so in
tense that none of the reptiles could
possibly escape, and they rolled out of
it black, blinded, and scorched, biting
at everything they touched, and in
most lustances died with their fangs
fastened in their own charred bodies
evidently preferring suicide to death in
the llames. Some darted from the out
side into the fire, madly striking at the
flames, until their bright black coats
had been turned into an ashen gray by
the heat. In fifteen minutes a smould
ing stump was all that was left of the
brush pile. lie was about to leave the
Bpot, when he ventured to look into the
stump, which was hollow, where, cov
ered by a thin layer of ashes, lay no
less than a bucketful of snakes, resem
bling huge sausages iu a large crock,
roasted just hard enough to cause the
flesh to drop off.
Professional Nurses
There is a fine, large, red brick
building at the foot of East Twenty
sixth street and opposite Bellevue
Hospital which is called the 'Training
School for Nurses." The institution
has been in existence several years,
and it does a vast amount of good.
It is under the charge of Mrs. S.
Ferkins, an attache of the Bellevue
Hospital.
Women who desire to become
trained or professional nurses must
undergo in this institution a thorough
course of training, which* is confined
to lectures and to practical work.
Considerable care is taken in the se
lection of candidates for training.
The womeu must be temperate, cool
headed and sympathetic, for frequent
ly the very life of a patient will de
pend upon the judgment and kindness
of the nurse iu attendance. A cruel
or careless nurse could undo all that a
corps of the most distinguished physi
cians might do for a patient.
The time necessary to train a nurse
for her duties depends largely upon
her intelligence. Some would re
quire a year's training, while others
become proficient in far less than half
that time. A giddy, frivolous, or
nervous woman is altogether unfitted
for the position, and no amount of
training would bring her up to the re
quired standard.
A large number of these truined
nurses readily find places in hospitals,
private and public asylums, nurseries
and lying-in institutions. Their po
sition is of the most trying character,
and young women who want to get
an easy living ought never become
nurses.
Nurses must be prepared to work
day or night, week day or Sunday.
They are oppressed with a constant
sense of responsibility, and there is
hardly any bright side to their life
unless tbc knowledge that they are
doing good and relieving suffering
serves to gladden their hearts. They
are constant witnesses of disease,, ag
ony and death. — New York Journal.
- —SUBSCRIBE for th© JOURNAL.
George Hearat and the Drunkard.
Senator Hearst is not mean, on the
contrary, he is generous with his mon
ey, but he is not in the habit of releas
ing his grip on a dollar until he knows
where it is going. For instance
'Flease, sir, will you assist a poor
man who is out of work,and has a fam
ily depending upon him ?'
The inquiry was made by a fellow,
who darted out of a dark doorway near
the senator's uewspa|>er office, one
evening last winter.
The senator turned a watery eye on
the beggar, saw his unshaven face, his
shabby raiment, and unwashed, shaky
bauds.
'So you've got a family, have you ?
Where d'ye live ?'
'Round on Facific street, sir.'
'Go ahead and take me there. If you
uint lyin' I'll do the square thing,pard
uer.'
The man had a family, sure enough.
He showed the senator into a foul
room iu the third story of a rookery.
There were three children, a decent
looking woman and a sewing machine.
The 'woman wept when questioned.
They were very poor, and often hun
gry. All their troubles came from the
drunkenness of the husband. The cul
prit sullenly owned to the truth ot this
statement.
'All right,' said Uncle George, ris
ing.
lie gave the woman a sum of money
that made her speechless.
'Come along with me,' said Hearst
to the husband, who obeyed with alac
rity.
At the next corner the senator turn
ed the amazed man over to a police
man.
'Bood this fellow for vagrancy,' said
the philanthropist. 'l'll appear against
him to-morrow. He's been striking
me for a piece.'
'Now, you,' said Uncle George next
day, when he had secured a sentence
of three months for the loafer, 'if you
have a mind to be decent when you
get out, come to me and I'll give you a
show.'
And the man, three months later,
did come. Uncle George sent him and
his family to one of his ranches, where,
to do the fellow justice, be has avoided
the bottle and behaved himself.
'I ain't opposed to drinkin,' the sen
ator is given to remarking. 'lf a man
can afford it, all right ; but when he
can't I go in for sendin' him to jail.'
How She Won Him.
'Confession seize all the houses, say
I,' roared Squire Clingly, striding up
and down his snug little library like a
wild animal in its den. 'Taxes, re
pairs, insurance, Jand a 'to let' always
hung up on the front door. I say. Fox
well, eh? What is it? A tenant for
Itore Lodge?'
'A tenant, squire, responded Mr.
Foxwell, the real estate agent, seating
himself,' Wishes to take possession to
morrow,'said Mr. Foxwell. 'Will pay
SSO quarterly, in advance. Lease three
to five years. Best of reference. A
widow lady.'
'I suppose she must have it' said the
squire. 'After a house has stood
empty for three years I can't afford to
stand on trivial objections. But there
is one thing I want understood first
she must not expect me to call on her.'
'All right squire,' said J/r. Foxwell,
carelessly.
'A red faced virago ot 40, I don't
doubt,' muttered the squire to himself,
'who has nagged one husband into the
other world and is on the lookout for
another; I'll give her a wide birth.'
So Mrs. Applegate arrived with a
boudour piano, a mimic aviary, a poo
dle, a whole conservatory of plants,
and established herself in Rose Lodge
without ever having looked upon the
face of the landlord.
The squire had gone out one sultry
July afternoon to see about the cutting
down of some trees on the edge of the
swamp, when he heard a little feeble
cry for help from the adjoining pasture
field.
'Hello!' said fthe squire to himself;
'what's up now?'
Scrambling over the wall, the squire
came face to face with a pretty, pale
cheeked girl of 18 or 19, who was perch
ed half-way up the stone-fence, in mor
tal terror of a huge and belligerent
looking bull, who stood up in the mid
dle of the field.
The squire burst out laughing.
'You silly child,' said he. Don't
you see that he is tetheied to the
ground. He can't get away.'
She was very pretty, with curly rings
and tendrills of silky hair, a complex
ion of clear olive, and dusky, glittering
eyes!
'My dear,' said he, 4 it's natural
enough. But you shouldn't be out
here alone by yourself. Tell your
mother to take better care of you.
Where do you live?'
'At Rose Lodge,' she faltered.
4 I will walk home with you. What
did you come out for—buttercups or
butterflies?' he asked, good-humoredly.
Terms, SI.OO per Year, in Advance.
'I came out for a little walk,' said
she, shy'y. 'I—I don't know who you
are.,
'I am Mr. Clingly.'
'The squire?'
'Yes, so they call me. Why, what Is
there so strange about that?' he asked,
noticing the quick change on her face.
•I've heard of the squire,' said the
dark-eyed damsel* 'And I somehow
formed the idea that he was cross and
elderly. But you ' And here she
checked herself in evident confusion.
'Well, I'm not young,' said the
squire, laughing, 'and I can bo croBS.
But you needn't bo afraid, my child.
I shall not l>e cross with you. Would
you like to cross tli3 high road through
my rose gardens? I assure you that
they are well worth looking at.
'Oh, indeed. I should be quite de
lighted!' said the young lady, her dimp
led face lighting up all of a sudden.
'A pretty little creature,' said the
squire, when his visitor had gone home
with both hands full of gorgeous white
and crimson blossoms. '1 really think
1 must call upon the Applegates. I
never saw fairer eyes in my life, and
she has a voice like a llute. Yes, I'll
call! I'll certainly call and see if
there's anything more needs doing to
make that rattle-trap of a place com
fortable.'
'Wei', squire,' said Mr. Foxwell,
that afternoon when he came in for his
usual chat, 'how do you like the
widow?'
'The widow ! What widow?'
l Mn. Applegate, to he sure.'
'I haven't seen Jfrs. Applegate.'
'Why, yes you have!'
'l'll thank you not to contradict
me,' the squire said, waxing choleric.
'I have not seen Mrs. Applegate.'
'Man alive!' cried out the agent, for
getting his respect in his eagerness,
'she was walking with you in the rose
garden this morning.'
The squire looked surprised.
'J/rs. Applegate! Was that pretty
child Mrs.'Applegate?'
'Herself, and none other.'
'Why, she isn't 18.'
'I beg your pardon, 18 years and G
mouths. She told me so herself.'
'The deuce!' said the squire. 'Why
what business has a widow to be so
young and pretty! Well, anyhow, I'm
going oyer to the lodge to call this af
ternoon.'
lie was as good as his word.
Well, any reader of the great book of
human nature can easily guess the rest.
The squire had kept himself absolutely
aloof from feminine society so long
that the first relapse into it possessed
all the zest and sparkle that he imagin
ed had departed with his lost youth.
Jlrs. Applegate was pretty, alone, and
poor. The squire was rich, not bad
locking, and able to converse well.
And so when their engagement was
publicly made known in the autumn
nobody was much surprised.
ir WAS NOT A SUCCESS.
An Experiment Which Was Not
Entirely Satisfactory.
Just before Eckson and his wife
started on their bridal tour, Eckson
said :
'We want to show people that not all
newly-married people are silly.'
'Yes, we do, Ilenry.'
'Now, when we get on the train, let
us not pay any attention to each other.'
'All right.'
'We'll lean apart from each other
and act as if we haye been married for
years, won't we?'
'Y"es. O, I tell you what would be
the funniest idea in the world, Ilenry.
We'll take different seats, and after a
while we'll get acquainted. Won't
that he nice?'
'First-class,* splendid.'
When they boarded the train they
took opposite seats. Henry took up a
newspaper, aud Mollie looked at the
wavering landscape. After a while
Ilenry looked up and saw the conduc
tor sitting with Mollie. Henry chuck
led. 'Thinks she's in love with him, I
reckon,' the bridegroom mused. 'Be
lieve I'll go forward aud take a smote.'
His cigar must have been unsatisfac
tory, for he soon threw it away aud re
sumed his seat opposite his wife. The
conductor was telling an amusing sto
ry, and Mollie was laugning gleefully.
She did not even look at her husband.
'This is playing it a little too fine,'
Ilenry mused. 'I like to see good act
ing, but she acts a little too well.'
The train stopped at a station, and
the conductor got up and went out, but
returned immediately and again sat
down by Mollie. Just then a young
woman came along and asked Ilenry if
she could share his seat. He gladly
consented, musing that he could play
even with his wife. A few moments
later, while he was busily talking, he
saw, with a sweetened thrill of revenge,
that his wife was looking at him. At
the next station the young woman got
off the train, and when the conductor
went out Henry sat down by Mollie.
'I don't know what you want to sit
down here for,' she snapped. 'Why
didn't you get off the train with '
'What do you want to talk that way
for, precious?'
NO. M.
NRWBPAPKR UWH
If subscrilwra ortlrr Ihe di*o<niiui;iU©n
nrwsp:ipTS. tlio jitiollstiors IWSI>
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11 Hub."Ci'llH'rs ri'liw or noploct in lake their
new spapers from Ihrelflw t" w htrh they nresent
they are held responsllile uuUI they have eel tied
tiie bills and ordered them discoiitinued.
if subscribers move tootliei jilaees w Mm ut in
formimr tiie publisher, and the newspajiers ire
sent to the former piiitr, tltey ate n'spi'iulbte.
ADVihdnsmtJ RATfesf ! *
lwk. imp. |3tno*. finios. 1 yen
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One Inch makea a square, Administrators
and Kxecutors'Notices 2/iO. Transient advert
tisemeiiU and loeals 10 cents j/er line for ftr> t
insertion and 5 cents per line for each addition
al Insertion / / i
'Precious nothing! (Jo mi; I don't
want you here. 1
4 1 suppose you would rather talk to
tho conductor?'
'l'd rather talk to anybody that will
treat me with respect.'
4 Now, darling—'
'Darling nothing. I'm going to get
off the train and go home, that's what
I'm going to do. I'm not going to live
with you, that's what I ain't, and when
pa asks me why, I'm going to tell him
that you didn't treat me with respect.
You don't lave me, and neyer did.
You used to let on like you did, but
you don't even do that any more.'
'Mollic—'
'Mollie uothing. Go on, 1 don't
want you here.'
'Now, don't be foolish, You know
how you carried on with the, conductor
—neyer saw him before, either.'
'The mischief I haven't. He's my
uncle. I was going to introduce you to
him, but I didn't want him to know
that we were married until just before
we got off the train*'
'Mollie.'J ,
4 What?'
'Won't you forgive me?'
4 I ought not to, you are so wean.'
'I wasjta'ouf
'Jealous?'
'Yes.' u
'I didn't know you loved me enough
to lie jealous.'
'But I do. Dont you love me just a
little?'
'l"es, more than you do me.'
'No.'
*Y-ee.'
'No you don't, precious.'
'Yes I do, darhncr.'
'lf these people were not looking I'd
kiss you.'
Henry, after a short silence, remark
ed:
'lt's none of their business.'
'Put your head on my shoulder.
There.'
He put his arm around her, and,
when he thought that no one was look
ing, kissed her.
'Do you love rae?' she asked.
'I adore you.'
'You make me awful happy.'
'You will liye with me, won't you?'
'Yes, always. We like the old fash
ioned bridal tour the best, don't we?'
'Yes.'
'And we don't care how many peo
ple are looking, do we?'
'No.'
'And if they don't like it they can
get off the train, can't thej ?'
'Yes, and you will live with me,
won't you?'
*1 couldn't live without you.'
•I couldn't live without you, either.'
'Because you love me, don't you?'
'Yes, and because you lovo me, don't
you?'
Just then a mau got up, opened his
valise, took out a piece of cake, handed
it to Henry, and said ;
'lt's yours. Take it.'
'I don't want it.'
'But you have earnsd it.*
'I won't have it.'
The man threw the cake on the seat,
and as lie made a break for the forward
car, said :
'That's the sickest bridal affair I
ever saw, and I used to be a captain of
a steamboat.'— Arkansaw Traveler.
An M. F. At A Type Case.
It is related of the second Mr. Wal
ter, o" the London Times , that in
Spring of 1833 shortly after his return
to Parliament as a membar for Berk
shire, lie was at the Times office one
day when an express arrived from Par
is, bringing the speech of the King of •
the French on the opening of the
Chambers. The express arrived at 10
A. M., after the day's impression of
the paper had been published and the
editors and the compositors had left
the office. It was Important that the
speech should be published at once, and
Mr. Walter immediately set to work
upon it. He first translated the docu
meut; then, assisted by one composit
or, he took his place at the type case
and set it up. To the amazement of
the staff who dropped in about noon,
he 'found Mr. Walter, M. P. for Berks,
working in his shirt-sleeves.' The
speech was set and printed, and the
second edition was in the city by one
o'clock. Had he not 'turned to' as he
did, the whole expense of the express
seryice would have been lost. And it
is probable that there* was not another
man in the whole establishment who
could have performed the double work
—intellectual and physical—which he
that day executed with his own head
and hands*
A Very Moderate Fee.
The smallest fee on record was re
ceived by one of the Van Buren(Ark.)
attorneys had some papers drawn up.
When the work was finished he asked
what the bill was. The man of law
replied: 'Just what you think is
right.' -To his astonishment the man
handed him a one and a two cent
piece.