Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, October 07, 1886, Image 1

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    The Millheim Journal,
tj. n. nLr^ihhici;.
Office in the New Journal Building',
Penn St.,near llartman's foundry.
Acceptable Correspondence Solicited
Address letters to MILLHEIM JOURNAL.
Madisonburg, Pa.
PR. J. W. ST AM,
Physician & Surgeon
Office on Penn Street.
Practical Dentist,
Office opposite the Methodist Church.
£) R GEO. L. LEE,
Physician & Surgeon,
Office opposite the Public School House.
# P. ALLD, M. D.,
Journal office, Penn St., Millheim, Pa.
Deeds and other legal papers writteu and
acknowledged at moderate charges.
Fashionable Barber,
Having had many years 1 of experiencee
the public can expect the best work and
most modem accommodations.
Shop opposite Millheim Banking House
Fashionable Barber,
Corner Main & North streets, 2nd floor,
Millheim, Pa.
Shaving, Haircutting, Shampooning,
Dying, &c. done in the most satisfac
tory manner.
Jno.H. Orvis. C. M. Bower. Ellis L.Orvls
Office in Woodings Building.
D. H. Hastings. W. F. Reeder.
Office on Allegheny Street, two doors east of
the office ocupied by the late firm of Yocuin &
At the Office of Ex Judge nov.
Practices In all the courts of Centre county
Special attention to Collections. Consultations
i n German or English. __
J A.Beaver. J. W.Gepbart.
Office on Alleghany Street. North of High Street
Good Sample Room on First Floor.
Buss to and from all trains. Special rates to
witnesses and jurors
House newly refitted and refurnished. Ev
er vthing done to make guests comfortable.
Ralesmodera** trouage respectfully solici
ted 5-ly
(Most Central Hotel In the city.)
Good sameple rooms for commercial Travel
ers on first floor.
R. A. BUMILLER, Editor.
The were shai p words that morning,
and not at all creditable to the young
members of the family.
Glenn held out his cup and saucer,
both of which had been duly painted
and baked, until they looked duly an
tique-held them out across the short
way of tiie table to his sister.
•Another sip of coffee, if you please,
Ilelly,' he said. 'And see here, Ilelly,
doli'i look at the sugar you put in it.'
'What are you talking about ?' de
manded his sister, testily. She was
suspicious of some covert unpleasant
ness in the quiet words 'What do
you mean ? Why shouldn't 1 look at
the sugar ?'
'Because,' said the non-committal
'Because what ?' Ilelly asked, with
someaspertity. 'Why don't you tsi 1
me ? Why shouldn't I look at your
sugar ?'
'Because jou might change it into
something sour.'
•What a rich joke I' she said, turn
ing up her nose, with all her other
features pinched. 'You just the same
didn't get up at all this morning. It's
nearly eleven o'clock. And now I have
to sit here aud pour your coffee, when
I promised the girls that I'd help deco
rate the hall for the festival.'
'Why didn't you tell me this soon
er ?' Glenn said deliberately sipping
his coffee.
'What good would forty tellings have
done ?' Ilelly snapped. 'I should have
had to wait and get your coffee-all the
same. You would have gone on with
your morning napping. Mamma just
makes a baby of you ! She pets you
till you can't sit up. If I'm not up at
family breakfast, I have to take just
anything I can find about the pantry,
while you can sleep till eleven, and get
up to fresh coffee and hot quail and
waffles, and everything nice,and I have
to stay and watch you eat, you great
baby ! Mamma won't let me stir out
of this house till you are breakfasted.
You tyrannize over me through mam
She paused, but when Glenn made
no reply, continued, '1 wouldn't mind
it if you worked at night, like railroad
men and telegraph hoys and night ed
itors and doctors. But you don't do a
lick of work, night or day. You just
sit up with that girl of yours, I know.'
Glenn looked at her in a solemn way,
but said nothing.
'I wish you were going to get mar
ried to her right away,' Helly went on.
'But I'd pity your wife !'
As Glenn was leisurely folding bis
napkin', their cousin Bftty, entered, in
a rushing way, crying out :
'ls this the way you help decorate
the hall ? You promised to come for
me by nine o'clock. I've waited and
waited and waited. Sister Ann's been
out to the gate forty times to see if you
were coming, and she's been to the
east window twice forty times. It's a
fact. I've just haunted that window,
so that mother couldn't see to sew, be
cause I was in her light all the time,
and she scolded me about it. And all
our folks got vexed at me, and called
me a Gdget, and it's all on your ac
count, Helly, and I think it's a shame
for you '
'1 think it's a shame for you to chat
ter at tins rate !' interrupted the irri
tated Helly. Betty's talked teased her
like pin-pricking on an already nettled
surface. 'You always were a rattle-box.
You can talk longer without saying
anything than any one I ever knew.'
At this Betty's face flushed ih sud
den resentment.
'Come, Helly, you're carrying things
too far,' said Glen. 'Don't let her
rude speeches hurt you, Betty.'
'I don't mean to let them- hurt me.
I always consider the source from
which a thing comes.' answvred Betty,
pouting at Helly and smiling at Glenn.
'l'll go to the hall, and tell the girls
that Helly is too cross for any use iD
the world ; that she'd wither the
flowers if she were to s try to help us
make wreaths. Come on Glenn 1 You
are going my way.'
She hooked her arm in his, and off
they started, chatting and laughing as
if there wasn't any teased Helly to care
for. Their nonchalant way made Hel
ly madder. Beside, Betty should not
have the last word.
'I am glad you are going,'Helly mut
tered, 'and I hope you'll never come
Betty paused and turned. Her face
was hot and flushed ; her eyes bright.
4 1 shall take care not to come back un
til you ask me to come.
'Then you'll never come again,' Hel
ly said quickly, her temper rising eyery
'Why, Helly !' Glenn remonstrated.
'You forget yourself.'
'No, Ido not forget myself,' she
quickly interposed.
'You owe Betty an apology,' Glenn
'Then I owe something that I'll nev
er pay,' Ilelly retorted, with prompt
ness. 'But Ido not owe her an apolo
gy. She owes me an apology.'
'l'm sure I've nothing to apologize
for.' Betty said, tossing her head.
•The idea of my apologizing, when sho
has been saying such rude things !
Come along, Glenn !'
Ilelly heard the front door close on
them, but kept her seat at the table for
some minutes ; sat there breathing
hard, her heart swollen, her lips tight,
her nostrils widened and trembling.
Just then I felly's aunt dropped in, a
dear good soul to whom Ilelly confided
everything. To her Ilelly told her
'Apologize to her indeed ! said Belly
'1 won't do it 1 And if she waits for
me to invite her, she'll never enter this
house again. It's horrid in Glenn to
tease and worry me ti'l he gets mo an
gry, and then tell me to apologize for
not being sweet. It's insulting. And
now I suppose that he's gone off to the
mercantile library to read some novel,
leaving me to clear the table where
he's been dallying. And he took Bet
ty's part against me ! Betty, with her
chatter, is simply horrid ! Chattered
like a magpie, and then went prancing
off with Glenn, instead of helping me
clear the table, so that I could go a
long with her to the hall. She's as
selfish as she can be ! But I'm rul of
her, that's one good thing 1 She is'nt
ever coming here again till I invite hei.
I suppose her father and mother will
lay all tho blame on me, for they think
Betty is perfectly perfect. On their
account, I'm sorry about the trouble,
for uncle and aunt have always made a
pet of me, because I'm auntie's name
sake, I suppose. I shall have to see
Betty when I go there, eyen if she
shouldn't come here any more. Very
likely, though, they won't want me to
come I'm out with Betty. It will be
dreadfully lonesome not to have Bet
ty's to run to, and to have uncle and
aunt cold and distant to me. And I'm
so used to having Betty lly in and out
at all hours that I don't kuow how I
can ever get along without it. We'ye
always done everything together. And
I know that mamma will think I'm to
blame ; she always does when Betty
and I have a spat, aud 1 guess it's a
bout so, for mamma's jndgemeut is
generally correct; and I'm spunky,
and I don't control my temper, and I
just let my anger get the better of me.
I believe Betty means what she says.
I know sho does. She means not to
come till I Invite her. But I'll not in
vite her. I said I wouldn't, and I
won't, if she never comes ! I'll show
her that I can be as set as bLo ia.
Feeling somewhat braced irj this
confession, Ilelly proceeded to clear
way Glenn's breakfast table. But
there was a cold, heavy spot in her
4 I suppose I can stand it if Betty
does stop coming here,* she went on
saying. 4 1 don't know either how I
can. I'd giv6 everything I own if
she'd come running in this minute.
But I'm not going to break my word.
I shall not invite her. I think she's
cruel 10 say such a dreadful thing.
Oh, dear ! dear 1 dear !'
Having by this time got the table
cleared, and having liberty to ciy, Ilel
ly did ciy, dropping into a chair and
hugging its back.
4 Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! I don't believe
I can ever stand it !' she said. 4 And I
know that Betty means it ; she'll nev
er come here again unless I inyite her
without eating my words and swallow
ing them right down.
4 I suppose I ought to eat them and
be glad of the chance, even if they
choke me, for I didn't really mean
them. I spoke them when I was in
anger. People oughtn't to speak when
they're angry, and if they do they
ougnt to take back everything they
say, for they hardly ever say anything
they can stand by. I wish my lips
had a spring -lock that would lock
when I get angry. Yes, I ought to
cake it all back ; I ought to, but oh !
oh ! oh !'
She was crying aloud when the tele
phone rang. It was a very interesting
thing—this new arrangement in their
house, just put in the day before, and a
summons from it was sure to start
Belly to her feet. She patted one eye
with her wadded up handkerchief, then
the other, and hastened to get the mes
4 Who is lt?' she asked.
4 A penitent,' was the reply.
Belly's heart gave a strong spring.
4 Who ? What penitent i" she asked,
hardly able to keep the eagerness out of
her voice.
4 0ne who behaved very badly toward
you this morning,' said the telephone.
4 lt's Bett I Oh, it's Betty !' Belly
in joy whispered to her heart. Iler
face was radiant ; her lips were parted
in smiles, as she asked ; 4 What do you
wish to say ?'
4 I wish to ask your pardon for my
behavior this morning. lam to blame
for your crossness. Telephone buck
my pardon, dear. 1
llelly could hardly stand still as she
put her eager lips to the mouth-pieca
and said, in a jubilant tone : 'I for
give you, ten thousand times, you
blessed old sweet ! And won't you
forgive mo once, you precious ? I've
been crying ever since you weut away
mad at me.'
•Poor dear !' was the reply, '1 wasn't
mad at you at all.'
'And If,' llelly replied, 'I was a par
ticle mad at you, I've got all over it,
and was so sorry for my unkind words
that 1 could have cried my eyes out,
and did, almost.'
•Well,' said the telephone, 'bathe
your eyes and come down to the hall,
and I'll go home with you.'
'And stay to dinner,' amended
llelly, all in a twitter that she was to
have lletty again in the house,and that
without tlrst giving the Invitation.
'Of course I'll stay to dinner, replied
the tele phono.
'You're the sweetest thing in the
world !' said llelly, quivering with de
•You're auother !' was the reply.
'Come along to the hall !'
in fifteen minutes llelly was down
town. As she entered the hall, Glenn
came down to the aisle to meet her.
'You look happy as a queen,' he said,
recalling the mood in which he had left
'I feel as happy as a queen,' she re
plied. buoyantly ; 'Betty and I haye
made up.'
'1 am glad to hear that,' said Glenn,
•for Betty was very much hurt this
morning. She said, most decidedly,
that she never would make up with
you, unless you made the first advan
'And yet she made the first advan
ces.' llelly said, with triumph. 'lt
was splendid iu her, and just as nice as
could be.'
At this point, a lady called Glenn to
assist in putting up a cioss of flowers,
llelly hastened oyer te Betty who at
that moment happened to be sitting a
little apart, weaving a wreath. She
did not lift her head, even when llelly
stood close alongside.
'Dear Betty !' said her cousin, slip
ping into a seat beside the wreath, 'it
was just the sweetest thing that ever
was for you to make up, and to offer to
go home with me without waiting for
me to invite you. I think it was grand
iu you—so much nicer than to stick to
a silly promise made in anger.
'Why !' Betty oegan.
llelly went on, eagerly, without no
ticing the interruption. 'But I invite
you now, with all my heart, not only
to stay to dinner, but to spend the af
ternoon, and stay all night and all next
and all next year and forever and
foreyt. !'
'But,' SOA4 Bettsy, 'I don't know'—
'You showea -what lots of sense you
have by not laying up my foolish
words,' llelly went on 'but honor
bright 1 Betty would you have given
up if you couldn't have done it by tei*.
phone ?'
•By telephone !' said Betty, her face
full of question. 'What are you talk
ing about V I can't understand you.
What do you mean V'
'Why, I mean this : wasn't it easier
to make your confession by telephone,
and ask my forgiveness by telephone,
than it would have been standing face
to face with me ? Wouldn't you say
that it would be easier, Glenn V' she
continued, as he came up.
'I haven't made any confession, or
asked your forgiveness or
io any other way,' Betty declared.
'What 1' cried Ilelly, 'you hayen't
confessed by telephone ! Who did,
then ? Somebody did !'
Glenn was smiling with a compre
hension of the situation. 'I was the
penitent,' he explained.
'Was that you, Glenn ?* Helly said,
her face sobering at the revelation.
'The yoice didn't sound at all like
'Well, as to that, I suppose a person
uses a higher pitch of voice than nat
tural in speaking by telephone. Be
side, you haven't heard my telephone
tones enough to be familiar with them.'
'So you hadn't made'any advances ?'
Ilelly said to Betty.
'Not an advance,' Betty laughed.
'And I'ye gone and invited you to
my house to stay foreyer 1' Hel'y said.
'l'm so glad I don't know what to
do, for I was wishing to make up.
And though I didn't aak your forgive
ness by telephone, I have asked it by
this note, which I meant to send to you
by Glenn.' Betty drew a scrap of pa
per from her pocket, and handed it to
Ilelly, saying : 'My bond to keep the
peace with you.'— Youth's Companion.
It was Freddy's first experience with
soda water. Drinking his glass with
perhaps undue eagerness lie was aware
of a tingling sensation t in his nostrils.
'llow do you like it ?' inquired his
mother, who had stood treat. Freddy
thought a moment, wrinkling his nose
as he did so, and then observed : *lt
tastes like your foots was asleep.'
The Good Old Times.
In olden times in my pious individu
als considered it a good work to set a
part part of their worldly wealth for
keeping the members of the congrega
tion from sleeping duiing divine ser
vice. On the seyenteenth of Apri1,1725,
John lludge bequeathed to the parish
of Trysull, in Shropshire, twenty shill
ings a year, that a poor man might be
employed to go about the churoh dur
ing the sermon and keep the people a
wake. A bequest of Richard Doyery,
of Farmcote, dated 1059, had in view
the payment of eight shillings in tho
church at Clavery, Shropshire, for a
similar purpose. At Acton church, in
Chesire, about thirty years ago, one of
the church-wardens used t6 go round
in the church, during service, with a
huge wand in his hand, and if any of
the congregation were asleep.they were
instantly awakened by a tap on tho
head. At Dunchurch, in Warwick
shire, a similar custom existed. A per
son bearing a stout wand, shaped like
a hay fork at the end,steppe J stealthily
up and down the naye and aisles, and
whenever he saw an individual asleep,
liejouched him so effectually that the
spell was broken—this being sometimes
done by fitting the fork to the nape of
the neck. A more plajful method is
said to have been used in another
church, where the beadle went round
the edifice during service carrying a
long staff, at one eud of which was a
fox's brush, and at the other a knob.
With the former he gently tickled the
faces of tho female sleepers, while on
the heads of their male compeers he be
stowed with the knob a sensible rap.
Why tho Organ was Locked.
The other day a household was
made proud and happy by the intro
duction of a cabinet organ. The moth
er could play a little, and as there was
a "popular collection of music" includ
ed in the purchase, she lost no time in
getting every note aud stop into prac
tice. The organ groaned and wheezed
aud complained with the most aston
ishing of music, night and day, day
and night for a week. Then one
morning there was a knock at the
door, and a little girl from the next
house shrilly said :
'Please, marru, mother wants to
know if you won't lend her your mu
sic book V
This was a surprising request, in
asmuch as the woman next door was
known to be organless. After gasp
ing once or twice the amateur organ
ist asked :
'What does she want of it V
The child hadn't been loaded for
this question,so she straightforwardly
replied :
'I don't know, I'm sure, only I
heard mother tell father that if she
had hold of the book for a day or two
mebbc somebody could get a rest.'
The woman softly shut the door in
the little girl's face, and went and
Ci*of u ]]y locked the cabinet organ with
a brass
Music s SootiiY*igr Powijr.
A minister named M C a cir
cuit in Southern Indiana. The wse
lie rode was a spirited animal, and
would not let a blacksmith shoe him.
The preacher was a great revivalist and
singer of revival songs. A smith in
the county seat, the centre of the cir
cuit, learning that the preacher's horse
would not be shod, meeting the diyine
one day, said :
'lf you'll bring that horse to my shop
to-morrow, and follow my instructions,
I'll shoe him all around, and it won't
cost you a cent.'
Accordingly the preacher was on
time at the smith's shop with his refrac
tory steed, and after the animal had
been divested of saddle, blankets, and
all but the bridle, the smith said;
'Now, bold your horse by the rein,
close to the bridle bit, and sing one of
your liveliest camp-meeting songs, and
when that is ended strike up another,
and keep on singing until I finish shoe
ing the horse.'
The preacher obeyed, and, to the as
tonishment of all, the animal was pas
sive until the work was completed.
As the blacksmith clinched the last
nail he dropped the animals feet, ex
claiming :
'I knew you could sing religion into
that horse.'
in Piedmont, Ga., there is a forty
cent man. if he hires auy one he only
pays forty cents per day ; if he hires
himself to anyone he only asks forty
cents per day ; if he make 3 a bill or an
offer for anything, it is only forty
cents ; if he swaps horses, cows, or
anything he either asks or pays forty
cents difference.
—With >our next order to your grocer, send
for a sample pound ot Dreydoppol's Ilorsx
Noap. You will find it to be the best and cheap
est soup you ever used. It is used by the best
families in Boston. New York, Philadelphia,
Baltimore and Washington.
Terms, SI.OO per Year, in Advance.
An Important Question Viewed
from a Philosophic Stand
Wealth cannot be any mere sum of
money. Money has no settled value.
In one place,among certain conditions
you can get for a mere trifle what you
cannot buy with a thousand pounds
somewhere else. What will purchase
pure air and clear sky in November ?
Millionaires cry out for them in vain.
Yet some poor woman, say in Shet
land, who never sees money, but ex
changes her knitting work for her
trifle of tea and cloth, can get the
bracing wind and the bright sky for
nothing. We all know how seriously
this consideration should enter into
our estimate of the real improvement
to be looked for in any change of our
place or prospects. What better off
are we in going somewhere to earn
double wages if all the commodities
of life there cost three times as much
as where we aro now ? People rush
off to the capital cities to "better"
themselves by earning a few shillings
more per week or a few hundred more
per year, as the case may be. They
generally find that the things they
must have absorb all the apparent sur
plus, while many things which they
had before, and ought to have, they
have to resign altogether.
Wealth does not consist of posses
sion of any kind. Take an illustra
tion : A man is wrecked on a desert
ed island ; the ship runs aground, and
he finds himself the owner of bags of
bullion and precious stones, of rare
books and rich fabrics. Put he can
get no fresh water. Presently he
dies of thirst—& poorer man than the
beggar who wins a humble meal by
sweeping a doorstep or weeding a
garden. Indeed there is no poverty
so terrible as the possession of every
thing except what we want. The
Persian poet, Sadi,has a story on this
poiat. lie say 9 :
'I saw an Arab sitting in r x circle of
jewelers of Basrah, and relating as
follows: Once on a time, having
missed my way in the desert and hav
ing no provisions left, I gave myself
up for lost, when I happened to find a
bag full of pearls. I shall never for
get the relish and delight that I felt
on supposing it to be fried wheat, nor
the bitterness and despair which I
suffered on discovering that the bag
contained pearls.'
Still less does wealth consist in mere
accumulation ; we really do not have
what we do not use. A miser had a
store of buried gold, over which be
used secretly to gloat. A thief stole
it away and a wise man strove to
comfort the miser by persuading him
to burj' some oyster shells in its place
and to visit them and chuckle over
them, as he had done over the gold.
Now let us turn to what wealth is
in the highest sense. Wealth is the
satisfaction of those needs of human
life which, if unsatisfied, check its har
monious development. No man can
be wealthy till he finds out the limits
of his needs, for "want is a growing
giant whom the coat of Have was
never large enough to cover." So we
cannot find out wLat wealth is till we
find out what these needs are.
Our bodily needs are pure air, good
water, wholesome food, sufficient
clothing and shelter, labor and rest.
Our mental needs are the education
of our senses, some leisure and some
intellectual nourishment, either from
books or society. Our spiritual needs
are love and duty.—/. F. Mayo, in
Sunday aJ Home.
Not Surprising,
Madame Bonaparte in her younger
days once attended a state dinner, and
was taken to the table by Lord Dudas.
He had already received some sorts of
her sarcastic speeches, and in a not
very pleasant mood asked her wheth
er she had read Mrs. Trollope's book
on America. She had. 'Well, Mad
am,' said the Englishman, what do you
think of her pronouncing all Ameri
cans vulgarians ?' 'I am not surpris
ed at that,' answered sprightly 'Betsey
Bonapart.' 'Were the Americans the
descendants of the Indians or the Es
quimaux, I should be astonished ; but
being the direct descendants of the
English, it would be very strange if
they were not vulgarians.' There was
no more heard from Lord Dundas that
—First-class iob-work done at the
NO. 39.
If subscribers order the discontinuation
newspapers, tiie publishers may continue
send them until all arinaratfes are paid.
If subscribers refuse or nep.lect to take their
newspapers from the otlW* to w iitclitliey are sent
they arc held responsjlde tint II they have settled
the hills and ordered I hem ll>eunt Inued.
If suliscrlbet's move toother places wlthontln
forminu ihu.puU**iior, juitLUnuicw spit pels .ire
sent to the former place, Hiey are responsible.
1 wk. j mo. 1.1 utos. fi nios. 1 yea
1 sfptarc $ 200 *ino| fr>v *r,ui ssoO
too fioot moo 1000 is cm
>2 700 10 00 15 00 SOW 40 00
1 '* 10 fid Ifiooj r.OO 45 00 75 CO
One Inch makes a smmrc. Administrators
and Executors' Notices f'ij'O. Tjansient adver
tisenients nnd iocaH cents per line for first
Insertion and aceutA |srr line for each addition
al iusertiOQ
Looking for a Seat.
The London Christian World has the
following famished it hy a correspond
ent. Possibly the incident may serve
to set some who live on this side of the
Atlantic thinking :
A workingman came to live in Lon
don, having obtained work of a perma
nent kind. From bis youth he had
been accustomed to attend a place of
worship. Not yet a Christian, he still
loved a house of prayef and resolved
not to neglect it. Accordingly, on the
first Sunday morning he went off in
search of a place ot worsldp, and, hav
ing seen one with open doors, he went
in, and. as no one was about, he took a
seat in one of the pews. Just as the
service began a pew-openefjtold him he
could not sit where he was. and did so
in such a manner thai he left the build
ing in disgust. After a Siinday or two
he ventured into another sanctuary,and
the same thing happened." An interval
of abstention followed, and then for a
third time he went within the sacred
precincts, and, alas ! a third time he
was .turned out of his sitting. For
twenty years he ceased to attend any
place of worship, and then a curious
thing came to pass.
It was on this wise : His child at
tended the Suuday-scliool of a popular
preacher, and what she satyl made him
resolve to try for a seat once more.
In time we see the craggy drops,
The craggy atones made soft;
The slowest snail in time we see
Doth creep and climb aloft.
And he, after twenty years, would try
again. This was what happened. He
entered the beautiful chapel, and to my
knowledge the chapel stewards there
are alert, polite, resourceful men, one
of them remarkably so. Well, for a
moment he was absent from bis post,
and the poor man sat dowti in the end
seats —no pew "doors on them —and in
the seat of a very cantankerous person !
The chapel steward, glancing along the
aisle, saw the poor man had poached
on a v-ry strictly preserved seat, but
he resolved not to disturb him. No,he
watched for the'owner of that sitting,
arrested his steps in his gentle way,
begged him not to disturb the poor
wayfarer, and managed to pilot him in
to another seat. It was a great feat of
Christian diplomacy, and had its re
ward. That poor wayfaring man is
now a member of the church, and I
heard the happy chapel steward tell the
Keeping Ice in the South.
The ordinary Virginia ice-house con
sists of a conical excavation in the
ground, say from sixteen to twenty
feet deep, the same width at the top,
narrowing down to six feet at the bot
tom. Here a barrel-shaped hole is dug
for drainage ,* above this a floor of rails
is laid, and the cone above is liued with
pine poles.
When I moved from the North to my
farm here, and remembered the ice
houses there, filled witii thick ice nice
ly sawed, closely packed, and surround
ed with a compact lining ot sawdust, I
looked at this bole in the* ground with
some disfavor ; but as it was the only
ice-bouse to be had, I was compelled to
use it. Winter came, with ice from
two to three inches thick, and no use
for a saw ; so, under the direction of
"Uncle Sam," an intelligent negro, we
broke the ice on tlie pond, drew it a
shore, filled an ox-cart (for there was
no sleighing) dumped it into the ice
house, and continued Jto dump until the
bouse was full, and then covered the
ice with straw. The ice kept better
than I had expected, but not so well as
in northern ice-houses. The conical
shape of the pit kept the ice in a com
pact body, as when it settled it was ne
cessarily presstd into a solid mass. I
found, however, that the ice melted at
the sides faster than was desirable, and
I concluded that the heat rising from
the earth was more to be dreaded than
that from the air above. Next year,
instead of cleaning out ray ice-house, I
left the straw tnat was put on top of
the ice at the bottom, putting the ico
on top, and of 'course covering the ice
with fresh straw. This practice prov
ed so satisfactory that it was continued
ever since, and it is now ten years or
more since I saw the bottom of the
house, and tlie ice keeps much better
than formerly.— GEO. CLEDON, in the
American Agriculturist for October.
An 111 Wind.
It is estimated that the ten thousand
saloons of New York city take in
$220,000 per day, or $75,000,000 per
year. This seems a great waste of
money, but it should be remembered
that these saloons are a great help to
many trades and professions which
would fall to a very low ebb of prosper
ity without the extraneous aid thus
rendered them. The doctors and un
dertakers have great reason to be grate
ful to the saloon keeper, and without
him, pray how could our criminal
courts be carried on at a profit ,or what
would become of the legal profession ?
One should look on both sides of a
thing before condemning it.— Cottage
i Hearth.