Sonnets, TO ©jrm WHO 4**tD Hl* Of# l-AST'S a*4 C*. t hits her brow* small hoed tiuu sera* tints strays, To Anil ih pUos, lhro<l*h the Nune books ruth mine. I like her feet—end O, her eyes ere line; And when I *av farewell. perhaps elie slays With downward look, awhile, iove litigating Then quick. ae ehe would have that pain aeon over. 1 like the maudnim * hereon ehe plays ; 1 tike her mice better titan anything Yet I like, too, the scarf her neck dotii eorer ; Abo the little rihhqn in Iter Itair. 1 like to aee her stepping down a etair. And well I Uke the door that ahe comes through. And then you know I ant that lady'a loeer. And etery new day there ia something new. or hi* rove roa a i-tot. I know not if I love her overmuch lbtl this 1 know, that when unto herfkce Site lift* her hand, which tost# there ull • space, Then slowly falls -lis I wire foe! thai teach. And when she sndden shakos her head with Nek A leek. 1 sen hor secret meaning traea; He when she run* 1 thick 'tis 1 who raw lake a poor oripfds who lias lost hts crutch lam if site ta gone. and when she gees, I know not why- for thai ia a strange As if myself should from myself I know not if 1 hire her mere u,a those. Her kiverw. Ihu whet, M It is ihh J who wiU W „ Wl u , MRS. PEROT'S PERIL. Arthur Percy, captain iu Her Majesty's dragoons, is tuy huslmud, and the ad venture 1 am about to relate befell me about eighteen months after our mar riage, wheu the regiment waa quartered in Ireland. A detachment was stationed in one of the most unquiet parts of that country, w inch I refraiu, from obvious reasons, from naming. Arthur was ordcrgd to take command of it, and so 1, of course, 1 accompanied him with our babr, an in ly fant of about fire mouth a We'thought x, curse Ire# very fortunate in having se cured a smail but extremely pretty cot tage at an almost nominal rent, distant about one mile from the barracks. I cannot better describe the cottage than by tolling Ton that it was called " The Bungalow," and like its name sake, waa a long, one-storied building, with a veranda iu front of the principal S windows, A amall entrance hall in which were two doors waa the first thing iHjeervetl on entering; one led to the draWiag room, dining-room, and three bedrooms, while the other led direct IT to the kitchen, servants" room, and into a passage hsadiug to the outer office#. Oar establishment consisted of two women servants and one man ; the lat ter, being a soldier, returned every night to the barracks, which happened* to 1* the nearest habitation to us, not even the humblest dwelling breaking the lonoUp—• f the way between them and the Bungalow. I haw already said that the distance from them waa about a mile, and the road, which was partly graas-grown, lav through a narrow sort of lane, enclosed on each side by very high hedges. These hedges were a continual horror to tne. Scarcely ever did I see Arthur etart in the morning without visions arising of desperadoes xmeealed behind them, dressed in the inevitable long tailed, ragged coat, the high-crowned, narrow-rimmed hat, anil the murderous weapon, all of which things I invariably associated with an Irish ruffian. The dragoons had been sent to qnell some risings, and to support the au thorities, consequently they were not regarded br the natives in any Tery friendly light. As the weeks went on and every after noon brought Arthur safely back'to me, my fears were somewhat* allayed, ami occasionally I walked through the lane towards the town to meet him—always, however, feeling glad when I got safelv past any chance passer-by whom I might encounter. Arthur used te langh at my fears, and as I knew I was a desperate coward, I tried to think thev were groundless, and merely the result of my own natural timidity. The year was drawing to a dose, and i on the 10th of January we were to bid 1 adieu to the Bungalow, Ireland, and the Insh. The regiment was under orders i for England in the spring, and till then Arthur was to go on leave. I was in raptures at the prospect of 1 being settled in my own part of the j world again, and, best of all, leaving Ireland, against which I entertained so 1 Erofonnd a prejudice. It was Christmas •ve ; Arthur was obliged, most nnwil- I lingly, to spend it at the barracks, as the few officers there wished to have a farewell dinner, and, in addition, there was to be an entertainment for the sol diers at an early hour. It had been snowing heavily all day, and when Arthur left, about half-past three o'clock in the afternoon, darkness was beginning to come on. I begged him not to return if Hie ' snow continued, aa I knew it might be Terr late ere the party broke np, and 11 could not bear the idea of hia coming home throngh that dark, narrow read, ,in the middle of a anowv December night. If he did come he was to Up at my window, which would enable me to 1 lot him in without disturbing the ser vants, who slept at the other aide of the house. After I had watched his figure dis appear I re-entered the cottage with a disagreeable sense of solitude and weariness, which I tried to dispel by ' ringing for the nunc to bring my baby, stirring the fire into acheerful blase, and , otherwise occupying myself. Though | almost quite dark, it* was now only about four o'clock, and the blinds in i the little sitting room were still un drawn. I was sitting on the hearth | rug, with baby on my lap, amusing her with my watch and iU glittering ap- ' pendages, which were an unfailing source of pleasure to her ; and as she stretched out her little hands to grasp them, I was suddenly attracted to the direction of the window,, through which, to ray unutterable horror, I dia- i tinguisbed distinctly the face at a man i gleaming upon me. In that swift, momentary glance I could see that it ! v-as a pale, sinister, malevolent coun tenance, with small, hungry eyes. My heart beat wildly, but I dissembled my j terror well, I suppose, as had I done ' otherwise baby aha I might have fared ilifferentlv. So rapidly had I com pre- ' bended tne necessity for appearing not to have observed nim, that I hardly stopped speaking to my baby, but a thousand projects for escape from my present position revolved themselves' through my whirling brain. How could I escape from that little room, with its dark, unshaded window ? Furtively I looked again, and was infinitely re lieved to find that the apparation had vanished, tor the present, at least, from its late close'preximity to the window. I got up at last, still chattering to my unconscious child, and moved slowly towards the door, even pausing for an instant at the table, partly to gather strength to proceed, as my limbs were ottering beneath me, partly because I i dreaded lest the liftlcer without might still be marking my movements. I had scarcely strength left to turn the handle of the door, but once on the other side of it, I rushed across the hall and gain ed the kitchen, where I found my two domestics seated at their tea. I briefly told them of the fright I had got, and was not much reassured on finding that both were, If possible, greater cowards than I was myself. The sound of a whistle at no great distance from the cottage roused me to the necessity of instantly making every place as secure as possible. Accom panied by the two trembling servants, and with baby in my arms, I began ray tonr of inspection. At last every bolt was. drawn, every shutter closed, and nothing more remained to be done. I found, on looking at the clock, that it was little past five, so that a long even ing was before me. Not a sound was to be hearfi ; noth ing fresh occurred to alarm us in the least, and at last I grew almost ashamed •f the panic I had given way to, merely from having seen a man glance through the window. Very probably he was FRED. KITKTZ# Editor and !*ropriotoi\ VOL. VI. some strolling vagrant who had been at tracted by tlu< bright light of the fire to look in, without doing ue any harm. So I reasoned with atyseff, and ho I tried to reassure the wmnta Uuder any circumstances, 1 watt glad to fool that wo veto safely thai up for the nighty surd determined to go aoon to my Wttja, where I full lees lonely than in the empty drawing-room. Had there not lei\ Uie ehanee of Arthur returning; I mild have pro that the aervauta should sleep iu a bed there hap)>cncd to be in his drcaa i tig-room ; but ax they assured me they were uot at all afraid, now that nothing more had been heard of the man, and 1 knew it would be a great nuisance to Arthur, if he did return, I concluded that it tnu wiser to let them sleep iu their own room, though it was at some distance from mine. I went to my room at about kalf-|Muit nine, and proceeded to undress; after which I put ou my white flannel dress ing-gown, placed my caudles behind me, aud seating myself in frout of the fire began to read. In spite of all my assurances to my self and hit servants, I felt strangely nervous and restless. My hook waa a very interesting one, but it failed to obliterate from my mind the horrible remembrance ef the face at the window. Perhaps he was there still—perhaps he was watching for Arthur's return to waylay and murder him. AU sorts of wild visions presented themselves to my mind. Once baby moved slightly, and it made me start nearly to my feet with terror. I was thoroughly upset, aud the only thought that consoled me waa, that 1 had begged Arthur not to return ; ao he waa, po doubt, safely at the barracks, little dreaming of my state of mind. It was snowing heavily still. I knew it by the dropping that came steadily down the chimney. The atmosphere seemed to choke me somehow. And ever and anon I found myself listening intently. Tke hall clock struck eleven, every stroke vibrating through me. Still I sat on; my fire growing dim, and my self feeling* cramped, cold and almost immovable. What was I so afraid of? I naked my self a hundred times. I could not tell; it was a vague, shadowy terror that seemed to be chainiug me down. I had heard of people's hair turning white in a night from fear. Surely mine would be as snowy as the ground without if I had to spend the whole night thus. Ob, for the sound of Arthur's voice. Perhaps I should never hear it again— perhaps he would never know what a night I hail spent, as either he or I might be murdered before morning. Half-past eleven—only thirty minutes since the clock struck. In eight honrs our servant from the barracks would come, eTcn if Arthur hail settled not to return till morning. Eight hours of this! A quarter from twelve. By a mighty effort I forced myself to get up. Olaneiug st the glass, my own ghostly reflection terrified me. I laid iv watch under my pillow, and was in the act of lying down lieside baby—not to sleep, as till two o'clock I should hope for Arthur—when a sound, awful, wild, un earthly, broke the stillness of the dark December night. It was a scream from a woman's voice in dire distress; an other followed, and it came from some where in the bouse. Not a moment did I hesitate. Springing ont of bed and putting on only my slippers— happily having kept on my dressing-gown—l seized my child, pausing only to snatch up her lit tle shawl that lay beside her ou the bed. I unbarred my shutter,opened the windew, and the next moment was on the veranda. It needed not a third wild shriek to impel me to a speed be yond what 1 had ever dreamed of as possible. In a second or two I was beyond the gate, flying for life, for mv own and another existence, dearer far, in my arms, clasped tightly to me—flying through the lanes, past the dreadful hedges, on, stumbling now and then, but recovering myself only to resume my race for life with greater despera tion. Death was surely behind us. If the pale, piercing face of the outside watcher overtook me now, what would be my fate ? God was merciful indeed to me, and gave me the power to proceed in my awful extremity. Heaven's portals could hardlv hsve been more rapturously reached than the lrrack gates, as I flew inside of them. I saw a group of men standing in the doorway ; and towards tbem 1 rushed, recognizing, to my unutterable thank fulness, among them my husband. His amazement may be better imagin ed than described, as he beheld us ; and as I could not do more than point be hind me. I believe poor Arthur must have thought I had gone suddenly rav ing mail. I only heard their voices mnrmuring round me, and I felt baby lifted out of my arms, though they tola me afterwards 1 held her so tightly they could scarcely separate us. The next thing I knew was that Arthur hail laid me on a sofa in a bright warm room, and that we were safe—Arthur, baby and I—and together But the servants. I conveyed to Arthur, as coherently as I could, the •vents of the afternoon, and mv con viction that nothing short of murder had been committed. In less than five minutes he was off, with some of the others, to the cottage, where the awful seene presented itself to their view as they entered. In the passage from the kitchen to the entranoe liall lay the dead bodv of our unfortunate cook. A blow from some heavy weapon had actually smash ed iu the back of the head, and life was S|nite extinct; onr other servant was ound in an insensible state ; but, after some time, recovered sufficiently to lie able to give the particulars of the at tack, and a description of their assailant, who proved to lie no other than the monster who had glared in upon me that after I had seen everything was secure, the servants had gone oat to the eon! - house, and during their temporary ab sence from the kitchen door the rnffian had slipped in, secreted himself in a cupboard in the passage, and thus been actually locked into the house with ourselves! | Imagining, it was supposed, thst Ar ■ thur would not return, and knowing that we hail a good deal of plate in the house, he had arranged to begin opera tions after all was quiet, and the first scream that I hail heard had been elic ited from the unfortunate servants, at whose bedside he suddenly made bis appearance. The miscreant had struck down the cook, while she attempted to escape, which, happily for herself, the other servant was too paralyzed to do. The scream I had heard as I left the house must have been the last dying one of the poor cook, whom the murderer had pur sued and overtaken before she could gain my door, which was, no doubt, the Biint to which she was flying for succor, ola moment too soon had I gone. An accomplice had been admitted by the front door, which wna found wide epen, my bedroom door shattered, but noth ing teuched, my flight having, doubt- L less, scared them. The tracks of their pursuing footsteps were discerned easily when the blessed morning light of ! Christmas Day shone. They had evi- THE CENTRE REPORTER deutly gone in pursuit of me, but prub- i ably tuy safety was due greatly to Ike whiteness of my garments, which must have rendered "my tlymg figure aluioat inviaibie against the suowy ground, j The police were mhui in qtleM, and ere luauy bourn elapsed the retreat of the aasassiua was discovered. A d sapors to struggle tunnel, and rt-e oguiaing in one man an escaped and notorious convict, and in the eoufliot, finding his own life was in danger, the constable fired on him, and the miser able onrpso wga conveyed to the police station, where our servant identified it as the murderer of the cook ami the as sailant of herself. The wretched man had, with his companion and accom plice, eeeajH-d only Iwodaya 1 adore from prison, to which the latter was aa/eiy escorted leek by a couple of policemen. The funeral of our ts>or servant took place a few day# afterwards, and the Bungalow was fiually deserted by us. The other servant recovered completely, and Che policeman, who had boon wounded by the convict rather severely, waa rejHirted convalescent before our departure. I never uw*the Bungalow again ; and verv joyfully did 1 enter the steamer which convoyed us to dear old England. —London AVie/y. Nobody'# Child, A little more than a century anil a half ago u benevolent English sea-cap tain, Thomas Coram, who had retired from active service upon a moderate fortune, waa greatly distressed in his daily walks about Loudou at the sight of infanta left exposed in the public streets. Having come to the conclusion that the desertion and destruction of children waa attributable to the want of proper means for preventing the dia grace and succoring the necessities of their pareiita, he aet heartilv ta work to provide a refuge to wkiwh wretched mothers might carry their offspring, and themselves be enabled to return to a virtuous and houest life. In this IRUICV oIent and praiseworthy undertaking the honest captain met with unexpected and disheartening opposition. Society, in its terrible determination to discounte nance immorality, shrank from doing anything to alleviate the miaery of the outcast mother of an illegitimate child ; nor was the law more merciful. It was considered so necessary to uphold the sanctity of marriage that society and the law alike refused to do anything to save the innocent offspring of am from falling a prey to the misery, wretched ness, and immorality of their jiarent*. Nearly twenty years elapsed before the good old sea-captain hail obtained sub scriptions sufficient for founding a hos pital, when a wing of the building now known aa the "Foundling Hospital" waa erected in Loudon. It was announced thatat eight o'clock on a certain evening twenty children, all for whom there were then accomm-i --ilationa, would l> received ; that the ! |icmons bringing them should come in i nt the outer iloor and ring a bell at the inner door, and not go away until notice was given of reception ; that no qnes ' tious whatever should bo asked of any jierson bringing a child ; aud that to each child should be affixed some dis tinguishing mark or token, that it might be afterward known if necessary. These tokens, manvof which arc still pre served, mostly consisted of small silver coins, crosses, lockets, empty putst-s, doggerel verses pinned to the infant's clothes, and mottoes supposed to be ap propriate to the forlorn condition of the poor little waif. The number of applicants increased so rapidly after the opening of the in stitution that painful scenes were soon presented at the doors, where sometimes a hundred women might be seen strug gling and fighting for precedence. A plan was then devised for receiving the children bv ballot, hut tbis did not rem edy the evil, all kinds of fraud being practiced to place the little things in the Hospital. Fifteen years after the ojiening of the institution notice was given that ex posed and abandoned vonng children from all parts of the country would be admitted, money for tbeirsupjmrt being guaranteed by Parliament. The first day on which this was announced a bas ket wss hung outside the hospital gate*, and 117 children were deposited as claimants of government support. It was soon found that parents with large lamilie* resorted to this easy means of reducing their anxieties and expenses. The conveyance of helpless children from remote country districts, and their consignment, dead or alive, to the hospital, Iwwne a distinct branch of the carrier's trade, work-houses were emptied of pauper infanta, newly lwrn children were taken from mothers, who required parish relief, and within four months 15,000 infanta were deposited in the hospital basket. The provisions for dealing with such continual claims were insufficient, anil the precautions for preserving life were but partially understood. Of these 15,000 foundlings only 4,400 lived to lie apprenticed. The refuge became not a hospital, but a charnel-house. We have not the space to follow out the subsequent history of tlio institu tion founded by tho exertions of good Captain Coram, or to trace the large development of his philanthropic idea in England and onr own country. Ex tensivo as that development has been, every one who has investigated the matter knows but too well how inade quate nre all our provisions to cheek anil mitigate the evils growing cut of the abandonment of children. Bathetic seines are still of daily—we might ssy almost hourly—occurrence in tho great cities of Christian Euglaiiilurul America. Social Chit-Chat. Polonaises with basque fronts are mdeh worn. Flowers hsvo succeeded feathers as bonnet trimmings. Velvet is used as a trimming on all kinds of light materials, this spring. Suits of gray English waterproof cloth are the correct costumo for ocean travel. Hysteria must be s fashionable dis ease among ladies, else why the univer sal vinaigrette. Normandy caps of white Swiss over bine or pink silk are in great favor for breakfast toilettes. It is said that hereafter s band of music will be the correct thing at all fashionable weddings. Ladies' wearing apparel can lie ren dered uninfiamable by a solution of sulphate of potash and alum. The mania for old laces again rages ; oold coffee produces the desirable tint of age quickly and effectively. We are getting Hack, in fashions further than ever. Ruffs are now worn s<4 large that they have to be stiffened with wire. Serenades will be quite the thing this spring, on aecount of the great favor into which part-singing' has como of late. The new thing in fans is the " Tri anon." It measures eighteen inohes from point to tip. Tho larger they axe the mere stylish. The loose-fronted polonaises whioh have been introduced, look too much like morning wrappers to be liked fer street wear, and are very common. CENTRE HALE. CEN Prince Tails) rami. A I hriiurreit 1 tifri—l 110.l l>l|tlutuw lui.Hl ul Ma W 11. It luut triillv ait! that uvxi U | Nm|k ileon Bonaparte, by far tho moat i cxtruordniMrv man of the Freurli Revo lution aaa Talleyrand. Ho was loru | in January, 1751, ami died in May, 1 838, HI 111" eighty-fifth ma Ho WM tho oldest aon of a nofilu family, but 1 mooting with an accident, whon ho waa a Imy, which lamed him for life, lienw thereby rendered until for military ser-1 vine, anl aa* obliged to rouounoo hia , birthright in favor of hia uovt brollior, , and, at unco to got rid of him and got . him out of the way, waa eoutkguued to , become a clergyman. When only twenty-nine year* old. Talleyrand was appointed Bishop of Autnu, but, being fond of I'arinan so ciety, dul not often visit hia diocese, over one hundred and sixty uulea dis-j taut. When the Revolution broke otilgf in 17HH, be took part with the move- j meut party, because he aaw it waa the , ttiunxwt, became an active member of > the National Assembly, resigned hia : btahoprte, and at laat, aome months be ' fun- Louis XVI waa guiLlotuuxi, rrtiml i to Kngland for a rear or two, and finally • reached the United States; what little , money in hia possession being obtained from the sale of hia library. This was j %poor look-out for an ambitious man, { fond of luxurious living and gay so ciety, and only forty-two yean old. He chiefly resided in l'hihulelpbia. In aome eighteen montlia. after the fall of Robespierre and the clone of the lteign of Terror, he returned to I'am—in , Mav 171*5. Prom that time Talleyrand Ailed the 1 highest stations, at home or al>road, in the service of hi* country, except ilur* Uie rvign of the restored Bdurbons, who *eem to have <lrea>lcd the ability of thin astute diplomat int. 11m holding office under ao many change* and chiefn ban beeu charged agniuat hia political character. It wan said that, on ukiug the oath of allegiance to Louie Phillippc, in ISSO, he wan board to in ut ter: "This in the thirteenth of theae oathn that 1 have aworti." The fact WM true, but Talleyrand, of all men, M the leant likely to tptnk of it. It wan Talleyrand, and none other, who, iu 1830, on the accession of the Duke of Orleans to the crown of France, negotiated that treaty of amity iUi< entente cordials) between France and England which ban untainted, amid various changes, to the present day. To Talleyrand Una Ken attributed the well-known saying that " Language waa given to man to enable hun to con ceal hia thought*." Hut ludore Talley rand wan bom, Doctor Edward Young had written thin couplet: '• Whom Saturn's end of language i dsrtioad. Ami men talk only to conceal the muni." And the germ of thia thought in to he found in the writing* of Bishop Jemmy Taylor ; and Lloyd, Bmith, Butler anil Goldsmith also used it. Among other savings of Talleyrand's is: " It is tho twgmniug of the end ;" hut tliisoccurs in Sh*kes|eare' ••Mid summer Night's Drwam," where we find: ■'To show our simple skill- That is the true twgtnnhig of the end ' Like Byron, who was an avowed picker-ut> of unconsidered tariflea, when ever Talleyrand found a good thought or a happy expression, he (ltd not scruple to adopt and use it, iu<stly improving it. Talleyraud'a brother wrote a memo random for Mr. Fouruier, to the effect that the only book ho used, in the forty years after "his return from America, was '• LTmprvmaatenr Franoais," a compilat ion of anecdotes and Inn-mote, iu twenty-one pocket volumes. Nevertheless, Talleyrand was a genu ine wit—keen, ready and niveutive. Here are a few ipeuuoua of his rapid utterances in this line: Kuthicres, the celebrated author of a work on the Polish Revolution once said: •• I never did but one mischievous thing in tar Ufa" " And when will it end T" waa Talley rand's reply. " Ah, t feel Uie torments of hell 1" said a person, in great agony, whose life had Dees somewhat of the loosest. " Already ?" was the suggestive in quiry of the wit. To Aim. no doubt, it camp originally, hut the Cardinal do Beta's physician ia recorded aa having mad© a similar ex clamation on a like occasion. " Isn't Geneva dull?" asked a friend. "Especially when, they amuse them selves, ' aaul Talleyrand, which was imitated not long aineo by the late Sir Oeorge Cornwall Lewis, when he wrote that " life would bo very tolerable, yf it were not for its amusements." When Madame de Htael published a novel entitled " Dolphin*," she was re ported to have P&IDUHI herself in tho jasrsou of the heroine, and M. Tallej rand as that of an elderly lady, who is one of the principal characters. "They tell me," he said, the next time he "met her, "that Inith of nn are in your novel, in the disguise of women." That remark, however, might bavo been elaborated beforehand. Another time: " She is insupportable!" lie said, with marked emphastw; but as if he had gone too far, and to take off something of what ho had laid on, he added ; "It is her only defect." Asked whether a eertain authoress, whom be had known long since, hut who belonged to the last age, was not a " little tiresome ?" lie answered: "Not at all; she was jtcrfcclly tire some." A gentleman in campsny was one day making a somewhat zealous eulogy of his mother's lioanty, dwelling upon tho topic at uncalled-for length—ne hiuiacif having certainly inherited no portion of that kind under the mnrriage of his parents. " It was your father, then, apparent ly, who may not have been very well looking," was the remark, which st once released the circle from the sub ject. When the Dnchess de Bcrri f mother" of the present Count de Chsmbord, now the last of the Bourbon family), was performing some very foolish freaks sorao fifty years ago, Talleyrand advised Louis Philippe that she should be visited with tliis rescript to herself and faction: " Madam, no hope remains for yoti. Yon will be tried, condemned and par doned!" When Charles X, then the Count d'Artois, returned to France in 1814, on aeeing, like Charles II of England at a similar reception, that all the eutunioa •f his family had disappeared, lie said, loud enough to have the bon-nutt heard and repeated with praise: "There's only one Frenchman the more!" This, the only clever sentence ever spoken by the prince, was put his into mouth by Talleyrand, who madeit. Between Talleyrand and Fouche (head of Napoleon's police) there was no love lost. Fouche used to say that Talley rand was nwthing until he had drank a bottle of Madeira—which oould scarce ly be true, as hishreakfnnt was one rusk and one cup of black, strong coffee ; his only meal, in the whole day being his dinner, which occupied two hours and consisted of several courses; but this was not taken until six or seven o'clock, when the day's official work was over. RE CO., PA.. THURSDAY, JUNK 12, 1873. On Napoleon's return from Elba, he reinstated Louche an Miniater of Police, and, no doubt, was betrayed by him duplicates of alt his plana for the oani |H>igit of June, 1816, iu Belgium, hav ing been sent ou to tlie Duke of Wel lington. Before the arrangeuieiits for that laat blow were all completed, Ma lleoli naked Louche whether it would not lie easy to obtain the adhesion of Talleyrand, then French Ambassador at Vienna, by sending him s handsome snuff- tail —<which, by the way, he would receive from other |iurtiea at the conclusion of the treaty. "He will open it," said Louche, who knew koiuetliiug of Talleyraiid'a rapaci ty. "Put in it an order for two millions of francs (four hundred thousand dol lars;, one-half payable uu his return to Prance." Na|Mileon stud, "No ; that would be too euMHistve." * Ho the present wua not male. Had it luteo offered and accepted, perhaps Nuisileon I. might have uied hiuperor in Pans, instead of exile iu St. Helena. Mmart's Requiem. One day, as Mosart was seated in his study, in a profound reverie, he heard a carriage atop at hts door. A stranger waa announced, who asked to K|ieak with him. lie was an aged man, very well dressed, and of noble and iuijsis ing manner. He said to the coiu jkmot : " ! am commissioned by a great man to come and find von." " The name of this man, if yon please ?" said Mor art. '• He does not wish to lo knowu." " Very well; what are his wishes ?" " He uaa lost a very dear friend, whose memory will lie for ever precious to him. He wishes to commemorate her death, everv year, by a solemn service, snd he wauia you to compose a requiem for the occasion" Moxart was deeply impressed by these words spoken so solemnly, snd by the air of mystery that sceuirii to per vade the interview. • lie promised to compose the requiem. The stranger continued : " Put to this work your entire genius, for you compose it for a connoisseur in intisie." " Ho much the lietter," said Moaart. " How much tune do you waut for the task?" •• Four weeks." '* Well, I will come for it in four weeks. What will be your price ?" " One hundred ducata." . The stranger counted ont the money upon the table and disappeared. Mo xart remained plunged in deep thought for a few moments, then called for pea, ink, and paper and began to write the requiem. Notwithstanding the remon strances of his wife, he wrought upon it night and day. But hia body, already feeble, could not endure this continual strain, aud he fiually fell fainting at hia task. Then he waa obliged to mat. Sev vraldays after, hia wife sought to divert his mind from ita sadness by some play ful remark. He replied earnestly ; "One thing is certain : I am com|oe itig my own requiem ; it will serve to ]>erpetuaUt my own memory." in proportion as he wrought, his strength diminished, from day to day, and the requiem advanced very slowly. Tho four weeks were finally gone, and the stranger returned. "It haa been impossible for me to keep my word," sail! Moxart, sadly. "Nevermind," said the man. "how much more time do yon require?" "I want four weeks more. The work lias inspired me with deeper interest than 1 supposed, and 1 have given to it uion-study than 1 intended." "In that case it i* right that I increase the price. Here are fifty ducata more for yonr pay." In astonishment Mozart asked, "Who are von ?" "That is nothing to the purpose. 1 will return in four weeks." A* Uie stranger left Ike house, Morart called a servant and mjumted him to follow this extraordinary man ami find out who he was . but the blundering man soon returned, saying that he could find no trace of him. * Poor Moxart had Conceived the ides that thia stranger was no onlinarv mortal, hut was one of his friends in the immortal world, sent t<> waru him of his approaching death. He applied himself with redoubled ardor to his requiem, which he regarded as the most enduring monument to his genius. He fainted many times at hia toil. Finally, it was accomplished he fore the expiration c 4 the four weeks. The stranger came for it at Uie giveu time, hut Moxart was dead. A Singular Disease. Cerebro-spinal meningitis is a disease which seems quite incomprehensible to the non-medical classes in the commu nity ; and, ludoed, even among the Iwat infonned and most skillful physicians there is a great diversity of opiuion re specting the causes and the proper method of treating Una disease. It has assumed an epidemic form several times in different parts of our conntry, seem ingly independent of anv agrney refer able to peculiarities of climate, season, or locality. The first epidemic visita tion was in 180)1, when it gradually spread through the New England and Middlo Htatca and Canada. It again U-cauii' epidemic in 1840, was widely prevalent during the civil war, and has never since altogether disapjxared {pom the country. According to Dr. Moore, s physician of Ht. Lottis, where the dis ease has prevailed receutlv, tho first symptoms of ccrehro-spinaf meningitis are exceedingly varied in different indi viduals. The attack is usually very sudden, seizing the patie.nt when ap parently in ordiuary health. I'ain in the head, constant or intermittent, pain in the back of the neck and along the spine, with soreness in limbs and joints, sre common symptoms. Home times the attack is preceded by giildincna or by ague, or by cold extremities, flushed faoe, ami quick pulse ; in other caaea by laaaitudo and prestation, by a deep stupor, or even by severe nausea anil vomiting. These initiatory symptoms are followed by a state of violent agita tion, which is "replaced by stupor. The lnslyof the patient becomes excessively sensitive, tho slightest touch being painful. The moat striking symptoms of cerebrospinal meningitis aro those presented by tho mnscnlar system. The muscles of the neck become rigidly oontracted, drawing the hem! back and firmly fixing it in that position. Rigidity ia very oomrnan iu tke muscles of the extremities ; sometimes the muscles of the whole spine are so violently oon tracted as to force the spine backward. Hints to Whist Players. Reviewing a small work on whist, the following rhyming rules strikes the Pall Mall Gazette as being particularly good : " Mind well lbe rules for tramra— yeu'U often need them 5 When yon hold five, 'tis right to lead them. Watch" alro for your partner's trump re quest. To which, with less than four, lsad out your best, When yon discard, weak suite yon ought to choose— Far strong onsa ara to valuable too loss." A thief recently snatched 820,000 from a collector of the Cienfuegos Rail road in the streets of Puerto Prinoipe, Cuba, and got away with it. A Brother's Drintlw. Tb Atlrw|H la eon IS* Km|m ( Sly na. Ilk# Mardrtvi. There was a tragic epiaode in the i-ivae of the California murderer Flynn, alias Mortimer, which brought to light the family affairs of the unfortunate Mortimer. H cost the life of hia broth or and gave touching proof of powerful fraternal affection. There arrived from the Eastern HUtes, bv Pacific railroad, at Sacramento, ou the Kill of April, three weeka aftar the conviction of Mor timer, a young uitui who registered at the t'itv Hotel, as "J. H. Williams, Jersey City." lie waa under medium siae, not very stout built, with brown hair and mutton-chop whiskers. His geueral appearance waa that of a highly respectable man, and his likeness to Mortimer waa plain to be seen. He bad pleuty of money aud was frequent ! ly to lie observed in the saloons, and becoming talkative, often spoke of Mor timer. The stranger said theooudeiuued , man was innocent, and ou oua occasion he pulled out s bundle of papers, re marking that t hey contaiued everything, and that in a few days the prisoner would tie st hlu-rty. lie admitted in confidence he was )(nrtinier'* brother. He was permitted to vieit the jail ou several occasions, but was not allowed to have any conversation with the pris oner. He was noticed to gaza fixedly at Mortimer in his cell, but uut a word passed between them. Between two aud three o'clock on the morning of April lfi a kind ringing of the bell at the jail door awoke the keeper, and, with cocked pistol in hand, he went , cautiously to the door. It was moon ; light, and there was nobody visible in the yard. He advanced toward the gate aud suddenly sw s man, wearing a cost inside out, and with a handker chief bound around hi* head. The keeper instantly fell on his knee aud fined. The boil took effect in the breast |of the intruder. He fired again, and this tune the shot entered his mouth. The man, after being thus twice wound ed, ran into tlie jail, ami after going round thp tier of ceils, stopped in front of Mortimer's, reached his hand through the iron grating to it* inmate, who clasped it, and his brother fall a corpse. The guest of the City Hotel had pro cured a ladder, with which he scaled the walls of the prison, aud by means of a line had descended to tne yard. Hia object was to effect the release of Mortimer, and he made the recklcaa at tempt without any confederates. On lit* person were found two pistols, one of which be had purchased a few days lief ore ; a dirk, a diagram of the interi or of the jail aud a hedge of the Grand Army of the Republic. On his arm were the wurda, " William J. Flynn, Lynn, Mass." There can be little doubt that Mortimer recognised Lis brother, and waa aware of hia intention | to seek hia release. The prisoner had on hia boot* when the firing took place, and etprassed indignation at the shoot ing of hia brother, and asking why the officer*, knowing him to be pros ling around the jail, and that his suspicious character waa a subject of town talk in , Sacramento, had not arrested him. Martini* r made another visit to the Coroner's ofll -e. On reaching the rough coffin he instantly recognised the re mains, aud, after looking long and earn estly upon the cold, stack, contracted feat an s of the decefjxd, place.! his hand aflcctioaately upon tho corpse, and exclaimed, " Ves, that is my young er brother, and he was twenty-nine years old last Christmas. I hail not seen him for sixteen tear# until he netted me in the jail a few dam since." ! The body waa farther identified by Mor timer by the mark of a wound on the forehead, inflicted by a stone he threw one day years ago, and by the disloca tion of a finger, which happened when j he waa a boy. The Cononer'a jury ac quitted the'keeper of all blame for the killing of William J. Flynn. On Mor timer s arm appear the letters, marked with India ink, two X'a and an F, leav- j ing no doubt of the family name being Flynn. Further development* have j shown thst he had four brother*, and that their original residence waa Lynn, Mass., where they were all born. Lassoing Women. A yonth named Yorseoi was lately acntcnccd by the Court of Assise* at Bergamo, Italy, to lianl labor for life, for flaring strangled two women and attempted tostrangle several more. He alwar* atrennonaly denied having had any hand in these en men. Home days ago, however, a roan employe*! to catch dogs straying aUiut the town called on M. l>ona. the President of the Oonrt, and told him that a young conntrrman had come to him at one time, lagging to le taught the knack of throwing the mnning noose over the dogn' heads. At tlie end of two or three lessons this young man became so expert in the art that lie never missed his aim. As the dog-catcher declared that lie should recognise his former pujnl if he had an opportunity of seeing him, the Presi dent ordered the convict to In? brought forward, with some of his companions. The man instantly pointed out VcjrMni as the young pcaaant who had learned to noose dogs so cleverly. This eor rol>*ratinn of the evidence against a notorious criminal has produced great excitement in the town, but the culprit declares that the dog-catcher dreamt the whole thing. A Slight Difference. Ex-Oev. Donnelly, of Minnesota, in ail aiblreas before a "Grange" in that State, aaid : A sewing-machine cost* for tho work and material sl2. We pay S7O for it The same machines are cx|oted to Europe and sold for SO2. after paying freight across the Atlantic. I found in the Belfast AVirs, of December 4. 1872, the advertisement of the Singer sewing mschine for £5 10s. aliout $02.50 of onr roonsv. We pay the difference of near ly s4d nnder onr patent laws, for being the most patient and gullible fools that ever pretended to a capacity for self-government. MeCormick gave evidence in a law suit recently that his reapers cost SSO to manufacture. W© pay nearly two hundred dollars for them. •Hi© thrashing machines, for which we pay S7OO, could, I am informed, Im> built for SIOO. And so of all other im plements. A "Mother's Care. Think what an excellent woman was Mary Clarke, the mother of that famous man who commentated on the Bible. This was what she inculcated on her sons: "Do nothing carelessly, and then, with the ability you have, yon will do most things welL Be exact in all yon do, nor let the least matter pass yon unexamined. In your reading, too, investigate your subject, and be net satisfied with skimming on the surfaoe of things, nor make any attempt to grasp the wholo without attending to every part in order. Paying attention to par ticulars as well as to generalities will by degrees give you a habit of mental ob servation, while at the same time it will deenon your knowledge. Do not forget to bear your needs and your heart in private before God, that He may grant you grace and direct all your future "path in life." , Meat in London costs double what it did forty years ago. Terms: 52.00 a "Voar, in I AWT A*B Lor.ll>. A proml, atrn man was UtwAff Pey ton, aud rusk withal, in wealth aud honors. He had won distinction at the liar and ou the bench, and had filled the ei ecntire rlnur of his state. How deeply his proud heart had suf fered, tiioae familiar only with his ouhl aud haughty Iwwriug would have Imeu surprised to know. Not very early iu life br married one whom lie had long loved with an ardent devotion, often characteristic of men like bun, and of which weaker natures are incapable. In his early struggle* with poverty, he had kept his lve a secret- He would liave suffered his heart to bteak aiuuertluu have had it whispered be was seeking advancement through an alliance with rich old Ronald Maaou's daughter. But when be could hold up his head with the highest in the laud, lie no lon ger hesitated to speak the words he had been so many years waiting to utter, and whicb Alice' Mason bad been waiting to bear. A few ywui of unalloyed felicity fob luwwi their uurrugr. Though proud aud stern as over to the outside world, uul Uie Miur man wan Geoffrey Peyton at home, hia wife by hia aide and hia bright-eyed boy prattling on hi* knee. There he forgot hia pride, save that be felt in thane be loved, forgot fame and ambition and greaUteaa, and remember ed only tluU be waa happy. Then came a blow whieli fell none the lighter on the proud man'a heed because he gave no sign of yielding. Death crossed hiatbreahold and took from him fir*! hut wife and then hia child. The laat of theae bereavements waa peculiarly distressing. The child had gone for" a walk with hia nurae by the river aide, and in a moment of inatten tion on the part ef the nurae, had atrayed out pt night. Boon after, hia hat "waa found floating on the water. Alarm waa given; search waa made; the river waa dragged; bat in vain. The child waa no where to be found. The body, in all likelihood, had been borne out by the tide. (k-uffrey Pcytoa bore hia loaa in ai lenoe. Vfhat' hia grief waa no one knew, for no one waa permitted to look upon it, and sympathy he would hare resented a* an impertinence. • ••••• Year* sped, and Geoffrey Peyton had tieoume an old man. At lus death, hia large fortune would descend by law to a distant relative, a young man whoa* avarice kept Into free from all oos% rices, and who, most vices Uiny costly enjoyed, in consequence, nil excellent reputation. But Mr. Peyton had opinions of his own ss to the disposition of his proper ty. Like many men of hia caste, he had an aversion to the division of estates ; and while not inclined to disinherit his kinsman, of whom he knew nothing bnt hia reputation, which, we have already said, was good, there vras one other whose claims he felt it would be unjust to overlook. - * He had brought up in his house, and in tome sort adopted, Gertrude Gray, the orphan daughter of an old friend to whom he bad been beholden in his days of struggle, and who had died leaving his only child destitute. Mr. Peyton "a plan, daly act forth in hia will, was to settle his property, in equal portions, on Gertrude ana his kinsman, provided they married each other in a given period. If either de clined the match, the share of the one - declining was to ge to the other ; and if both declined, the whole of his fortune waa given in trust for oertam char ities. Three rear* before the occurrences of which we are now to speak, George ' Hayne had sought and obtained em ployment of Mr. Peyton as his secre j tarv. The yeung man proved faithful and diligent, manifesting, moreover, qualities of intellect which induced hia employer to encourage the devotion of his leisure time to a coarse of legal study. George made ss good use of bis op portunities, that by the end of three y<*ar* he was prepared for admission to the bar. He had learned other things besides the law in the mean time. He had learned, for instance, bow putty Gertrude Gray was, and how devotedly he loved her; though he was too straightforward to toll her ao without first asking permission of Mr. Peyton, with whom, at last, he sought an inter view for that purpose. Modestly, but unreservedly, the vonng man explained the state of his feelings, and was about to express the hope that he migt be allowed to speak to Gertrude herself on the subject, when Mr. Pevtnn cut him short. " Is tJiia the return yon make for my confidence," he exclaimed—" yon whom I have trusted and taken so much inter est in r " I am unconscious, air, of having abused vonr trust, or ill-requited your kindness," replied tlie youth, with a touch of the other'* pride in his manner; " nor can I perceive aught that ia rep rehensible in the honest attachment I have this day declared for Gertrude Orar." , . ... " Would yon do her a real service ? " I would die for her f" said George earnestly. " You can do her a greater favor at less o>t," returned the other dryly. "Name it." " Never see her—never speak to her. I am not one lightly to make or break a promise ; and I solemnly promise that, slinnhl von repeat yonr foolish avowal to Gertrude, and should she lie weak enough to listen to it, instead of bring ing you tho fortune with which it has b*en my purpose to endow her, she shell come to you a beggar like your self." " Yon do me rank injustice, replied George, whose eheek flushed, "by the intimation which haa jnst escaped you. I have never thought of Miss Gray with an eye to any prospects she may have in connection with your fortune. I have loved her for her own sake." "Then for A rr sake desist from a scheme which, if successful, must re duce her to beggary. If you poaaesa a tithe of the nnaelfiahnesa you profess, yon will heed this warning and go your way. I have other plans for Gertrude." A moment's reflection convinced Oeorge that, harsh as Mr. Peyton's words were, in on© respect they were just It would be solfislineaa to persist in seeking happiness at the cost of her whom he pretended to love. " I shall leave this place to-morrow," lie said, and turned away. The morning papers announcod the loss af a great steamer, bound for San Francisco. Nearly all on board had Criahed ; and among the names of the it was that of George Hayne. Ger trude Gray swooned when she read it, and Mr. Peyton felt aot quite easy in his conscience. That evening, aa he stood moodily in his study, he was interrupted bv a visitor, a woman, whose form, once tall, was bent with age, and whose wrinkled face and wild dark eye had something sinister in them. " Pray be seated and explain the reason of your visit, madam," said Mr. Peyton, pointing to a chair. taking the proffered seat, she remain ed for a time silent, gazing intently on the face before her. Time had graven deep lines upon it, and norrot deeper still Aa she pcroacd th-in, a smile of satisfaction, mart) like a shadow than a ami It-, flitted #*• her countenance, " Yon had a son once," whe mud. The linen grew deeper on the face abe wan atmlyuig, and a pained es preaaioti mime over. " I, too. had a aon," ahe continued, "an only one, aa your* waa. In a auddeu affray, be bail the misfortune, in a moment of passion, to alay bia an tagonist, who waa quite aa blamahle aa himself. The jury decided it murder, hut recommended bim to merry. The Sdge joined in a petition for clemency, y bora's life waa in your banda. I ifW"d it of you on my kneea. The law had intruated you with the dtapen aation of merry, but you A ad no merry You turned aside fen tor prayers, ami luy aon waa left to die a felon 'a death." (ieofbwy Peyton remembered now the faoe that bad often haunted bim atnre the day it had Iwen turn**! pltwdiiigly upon him. and vividly recalled the look of anguish it bad worn when be spoke the rwlentleea wurda Diet cnihad nope out of a mother'* heart. " That day," ahe resumed, " I toed an oath to make you feel, if poaaihle, all that I felt' I Stole a* ay your child-" "My child !—is he alive f " liiiUe. I ihth sway jtmr child, aad Mi you to mown him as dead. 1 took him to a diatom* and reared him aa toy ova. I Immv so malice toward Aim. 1 only Latedjrou I brought him up tenderly, educated him aa my mod crate mean* would allow, and felt thank ful that in in dieting punishment on the father, I had been enabled to do it with ao little injury to the child.** " la be ilira t" cried the old man, piteooaly '' hprak, woman- have you no mercy ?" M Ton had none when I taught to ap peal to it," she answered. " That your ton i not alive, and that your conscience may accuse you of hia death, is the reason lam hero. The young man you drove away because he presumed to love one for whom your pride had prepared other plana, was your own eon ! Before be went, he confided to me the cauee of hia going; and on reading the announce ment of hia fate, I resolved that you, should feel over again the agony of a parent's bereavement, heightened now uy the sting of remorse." " Y<>ur story is falser he cried, springing np—"a devilish invention, gotten up to torture me! Bat I will put you to the proof. My sou bore a mark upon hia jw-raon, put there clan destinely by an old nurse in India, whan we traveled in that country, who at tached some superstition to it If the child you say you reared woe my son, you must have seen and can describe that mark." " A serpent's head and aome strange characters, in India ink, on the left arm below the elbow," was the answer. Geoffrey Per ton staggered, and feD into the chair from which be had risen. He seemed aa one stunned by • terrible blow. The woman stood over him for a moment, peering down into bis an guish-stricken face with a look ef tri umph, aad then walked quietly away. •• Good new* f good news !" cried Gertrude, bursting into the room. " The evening paper corrects the report of tua morning. George Hayne is among the saved, and has already reached New York ?" But her words were heeded not. The old man lay In his chair unconscious. He was placed upon his bed ; aad on returning to himself, and being informed 1 of George's safety— • * Send for him, he whispered eagerly, '• let there be no delay." Then he called for his will, aad when it was brought kept it in hia hand. " Has be come yet t" was the ques tion be repeated, as often aa he had strength. When at last the Toting man came, and was conducted to his late employ er's bedside, the latter with eager trem bling hands turned back the sleeve of George's ©oat so as to expos* the loft ana. "My Ernest!—my son!" he ex claimed ; and raising himself with sud den strength, be clasped the young man to his breast. " Bear witness, all," he said; " tilts is BIT son. These marks," pointing to certain devices tattooed on George's arm, " prove it, ae does the testimony of the woman who stole him sway and reared him as her ova, and whom I sew and conversed with last night. It now only remains ta cancel thistaking his will and tearing it in fragment*. Geogrev Peyton would fain have lived for 'hia son's sake, but it was not so to be. The recent shock proved too much for his strength, sad not maUy days sf tor he sank to mat in Ernest a anna. Our etorv would be incomplete if we , failed to mention that Ernest Peyton , and Gertrndge Grav. in due time, were , happily married. What became of the , distant relative we don't know, and ] don't suppose anybody cares.— X. 1". Lcdacr. i B " HONCS Rigsiow ** Abroad. , A Boston correspondent of the Si. • Louis Olobf is responsible for this ■ ] anecdote of the author of "The Bige low Papers:" James Knsaell Lowell ' went to Europe, ami arriving in Lou < don. deposited certain evidences of J credit with Baring Brother*. Now, j < " Hoses " is a peer hand at figure*, j * and doeo not like the worries incidental to a strict debit and credit account, so i < leaving England he instructed Messrs. | B. Bros, to notify him when he should i I have drawn down the funds in their i hands to a certain sum mentioned. In • the course of time " Hoeoa" received a 1 polite epistle, stating that bis deposit ' was depleted to the amonnt mentioned as his Limit, and he very dutifully re- ' turned to England, and soon after to I this country, taking the complicated so- < count rendered as quite satisfactory aa i regarding hia money transactions with ] his bankers while in Europe. Now, sometime after reaching home, he one < day receiver! a solid-looking letter from England, which proved to be from the I great bankers. Baring Bros., which ; notified him of a mistake in his account ' with the house, and explained it some thing as follows: Certain of their clerks, being foreigners, pronounced a with the long souna, very like r, and one of these, in calling off the amounts to be debited to the customers of the bouse at the close of banking hours one day, called "James A. Lowell, £500," and j gave his pronunciation of the A. which caused the entry clerk to charge that amount to James/?. Lowell, Of "Rosea. * This mistake they wished to rectify by some means, ana after informing him that the amount and interest thereon was subject to his draft, intimated that should it be his desire they would in vest the balance in away thai would be advantageous to himself. Now, "Hosea" thought he had spent the money, sad looked upon his crtto.it at Messrs. Bar ings' in tne light of an extra not count ed upon, so he signified his willingness to accede to the proposal of the banasrs. A few months later he received notioe that the snug little sum of thirty-seven hundred and some odd dollars awaited his order in the hands of his bankers. A girl of 12 years and a boy of 14 are about to be married in Galveston. The bridegroom must go to school one year vet, and the bride three Tears, under the Compulsory Education law of Texas, Shadow* of Khaata. la Um plaea whara tha grimly lapaaaa, |J fader paafca where a ngk ti a wn>, | lIAVS jttflffnfmiMt fkttlrif tHflrfi itwaeteeheea nw* aweat than a aaag; *' * *' f "'** awee< aatke rates of a iringar Mad* aaered mm nerrow* unsaid. And a leva thai Mpkxaa mate tag* For the tew of daaddart and ibstrdawt Ikii I turn, UtrotiQi Immmm, mt tiruitig to stuff and to nuhutatu ami. Aa te Imm to ha mi. a njilaprttT**rr All things that ware than . _ Sjiumlß Item, of Interest. The Georgia cotton miUa are aaid to be paying twenty-Ave per cent. divi -Jr-ijitn annually. Matrimonial— Tt ia no good now-a daya for a men to offer bia band, if there's notbiog in it. The lateat bonnet ia a trifle higher than freight on the railroads, and as (graceful in proportion. Few persona, probably, aa a ride, •leap so soundly or enjoy so much un disturbed repose aa night watchmen. A little chap an years old, who can not read, astonishes Gainaboro, Teon., by solving intricate mathematical prob- Phtiadelphia turns out more oarpete per annum than all other perta ot the united States and Oread Britain com Mlntd A Sew Hawn landlord got rid of an obnoxious tenant the other day by re moving all the doom and windows in the The limb of the true on which Cullen, tb* murder of Aroostook County, Me., waa bung ia to be deposited in too Bos ton Museum. It ia aaid that no teas than half a mil bo dollars worth of gold bt annually consumed by the photographers of the United fttatra A share ra the business waa promised a cashier of e bank recently. " Boca that include the embenalement* F* be modaetly asked of the astonished direc tors. Ah Albany paper sap: " Ballston girls romantically flirt with Curtey, the bond robber, through the grated win dow of his apartment, in the jail at that place.** Last war the quantity of beer pro duced in the United Htatea waa 7 1 69.- 170 harrela—ninety-two half-pint gleneee for every man, woman and child in the country. The Bomber of men in the United fMatea of the military age—that ia, be tween the ages of eighteen and forty-five years— waa/ in 178. 7,670,487. The number of man who were of the voting age was 9,44?.001 General Contrerae has been nomina ted to the command qf the army of Madrid, guite right. If any rule is likely to suit Spain, now that every thing is turned upside down, it ia " the rule of Contraries.' The pleasure yaafcte of the Mew York Yacht Clul" coat §2,000.000. Tbepehta connected with other dubs ia andabeut New York are valued at §1,000,000 more. The Eastern Club, of Boston harbor, owns §400,000 worth of similar The town of Londonderry, N. 11.. bold* its charter on the condition of giving tha Governor of the State a peck of potatoes every year, and pap the penalty of its corporate eapeteno rtgu- . tally. * It ia aa old custom, derived from the'mother country. Oscar It and his consort have been crowned King and Qaeee of Sweden with imposing eersmoni,-*. The new Kiiip oommencea his reign under su spicions circumstances. Like hiapew .ieoeaaom, ba has the hearty good will ol the pc.pl. end if he only piwi good a monarch aa they, his subjects will have no cause to complain. The t Albans Mtmmger gives tbeae • to jw ouibraak in the Oia Mountain Btata: "In the ninth and last uin—, Vermont u cred ited with an *nn>t Indian population of fourteen, trot they are ao soatfcnd that we need entertain no foam of a nan) war. Emt% county baa three. Grand lele au, and Lamoille Dr. Mackenzie Bacon baa published tha zaaulta of hi* imjuines into the misuse of the phraae " softening of the brain," aud the habits of physicians of essoeietiiig the term with a certain de gree of falsity, or declining intdh genoa. Dr. Baoc* aays that of all the cases recMwed into his ssyinm with this, diagnosis, in not a single one was such lesion of the brain found to exist on post mortem examination. It turns out that the tahermen con stitute the healthiest elasein Maasaefau setta. They are the finest looking men, the most robust, and with capacities for great endurance. Their diet, while actually engaged in their vocation, con stats of fish, pork, potatoes and hard broad, withfrceh u/eeT bat mroly.; It is said to he the custom of invalids from the rural district*, suffering from chronic indigeetion or incipient poth isia, to make sn amateur fishing voyage, sad often with excellent results. DM Sot Wut to tio. Tb following letter from the Duke of Aosta to his father, the King of Italy, tinted January, IMA, and now published in tlie lladieal Mt impartial of Madrid, throws much light on the views enter tained bv Don Amodeo, from first to last, during hia sovereignty : Yon Majesty: It was with extreme surprise that, for the first time and without any previous communication to DM* on the subject, I beard from your Majesty tht it was seriously iu rtmtem plat ion to confer on me the crown of Spain. On my return to Genoa I have spoken of this to my wife. She is ready to follow me, wherever I may go; to share my lot, whatever it may be. To tell your Majesty bow much I love my country, and how much I am.willing to do for* her, is needless; any sacrifice, even that of life itself, would seem light to me for her sake. But whst is it that lam now asked to undertake ? It is to rule the destinies of a country which is divided and torn to piece* by thousand political parties; and a task which would be arduous to any one would be doubly so to one who, like myself, lire, had no experience in the difficult art of governing. The consequence would be that I should in fact not govern, but should hare to submit to the dictates of those who had called me to the throne. These reasons are strong enough to in duce me, this very day, te place in the hands of your Majesty my formal re fusal of the crown of Spain, tagging your Majesty to transmit my decision to those whom it may concern. •'Your Majeety's affectionate son, " AMAPEO." Boys and their Mothers. Some one has written beautifully to the boys in the following manner. He** is a whole sermon in a few sen tences : ~ "Of all the love affairs in the world, none can surpass the true love of the big boy for nis mother! It is a love pare And noble, honorable in the high eatdegree to both. Ido not mean mere ly a dutiful affection. I mean a love which makes a boy gallant and oourte ons to his mother, saying to everybooy plainly that he is fairly in love with her. Next to the love of her husband, noth ing so crowns a woman's life with honor as this second love, this devotion of her son to her. And I nevoryet knew a boy tnrn out bad who began with falling in love with his mether. Any man may fall in love with a fresh-faoed girl, and the man who is gallant with the girl may cruelly neglect the worn and weary wife. But the boy who is a lover to his mother in her middle age is a true knight, who will love his wife as much in the sere-leaved autumn aa he did in the daisied spring-time." •
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers