Plant a Homo, Tonnft bop'rinsr* ia Ufa's morning Pont forgot th ruiny day ; Sunshine cannot last forever. Or the heart bo a) ware W- Rare the dime, and than tha dollar. Lay up something a* von roam Choose noma blooming *j>ot of beauty, Some fair lot, and. " plan: a home " You. too. having hobos around yon. Coming up to take your place ; Give them something to remember Homestead memories let them trace Would you feel the pnde of manhood. Let the sun yw dwelling greet Breath the blessed air of freeeota. Own the soil beneath yeui feet Aspiration, If I could send to distant seas. With spreading sails and kindly hree.-e. The ahi|w my fancy builds at ease If I could rear without the strain And sweat that comes of loss and gain. The castles 1 would have in S|vain If I could lay all sin aside. And take the Ssvtor as my guide. And have no other rale beside If I could win a deathless name. Ami catch a bauble men call fame. And never know the sting of blame If cruel gain came not by stealth. Across the current of my heellh. To taint the life blood's previous wealth If I could claim the good and great. Whose fellowship is rich estate And feel thetr friendly correlate- Then life would pay its simple cost. And hope end fame would not be tost. I'pou Time's ocean tempest-tossed But man hath rarva and toil hath stings. And riches take npon them wuige. And labor only honor brings. Alas! my shifw tie ou the strand. My castles tu the Spanish laud. Ate built of rainbows cm the sand. 11 MY IKEBERIUA, The eyes of my Froderiea were as hjtie AS "the sky, of as the sash that bound her ahm waist : her complexioc was of lily purity; her lips were as roeebuds bursting into flower; her hair was the yellow gold of flax, intertwined with floes silk. I odl her my Frederica by a sort of poetical license and in right of my love for her. She was, in troth, at this time, the Frederics of the Herr Professor Vanderguoht, the snb rector of the university, for she was his daughter; and afterwards she be came the Frederica of another. Still I ventured to call her mine—absurd as it may seem. I even call her mine now. I was christened Hans, which showed, perhaps, that my family did not ex neet groat things of me; for Hans has, somehow, come to signify a foolish sort of fellow all the world over. " Hans is slow, but he is sore," my father was wont to say of me. Slow? very likely. But sure. How, and of what ? 1 did not distinguish myself as a stu dent. I drank much beer and smoked many pipes, and, as mementoes of my Bursehen life, I still carry abont with me a scar on my cranium, which will stand forth exposed unpleasantly when I have grown bald, and an ugly seani across my left cheek, the result of n badly-stitched sabre cut. I did not fight duels because I liked fighting, but because I could not well avoid it Frederica had let fall, now her kerchief, now her bouquet In my haste to gather up and restore these treasures I brushed abruptly against a fellow-stu dent By mischance I even trod upon his toes." His feet were tender; his laaguage violent Combat and blood shed became unavoidable. He escaped without a hurt. I was lees fortunate. It was owned, however, that I had com- ported myself becomingly. I met my Frederica only now and then at the soirees and the receptions of the Herr Professor, her father. Did she know of mv love ? Yes ; if she could read my glances, though, I admit, I have known eyea more expres sive than my own, which are, indeed, of faint color and feeble power, needing help from concave glasses. Yes ; if she could penetrate my thoughts or di vine my dreams. Otherwise she would be less* informed upon the subject. For I could uot precipitate my love into words. My Frederica did not in vite speech or indulge therein herself. She was too beautiful to have need of language ; she was a poem in herself. It was sufficient to look tipon her. To address her, or to hope to hear her, weald hare been outrageous presump tion. So I he'd. I hare heard her silence imputed to her an a fault But of what sinful tolly will not some be guilty? Tiers ire men who would Fiave the Venus of Medici s fitted with the apparatus of a German doll, and made, upon pressure in the ribs, to speak, "Pa-pa," "Ma-ma." When I went to England I promised, to myself, that I would never forget Frederics. I planned to return some day and make her mine ; meanwhile I would grow rich, At present I was very fll supplied with money. My father ooold spare me none—his own wants were more than he could com fortably meet He bestowed upon me his blessing, however—all he had to give. I received it gratefully, if not without a wish that it had been a more marketable commodity. I had resolved to become a famous painter, or rather, I should say a wealthy one. I knew that England, if she gives artists nothing else, gives * them money, at any rate. Perhaps thst is all they really require of her. I found myself in London, the tenant of a garret* which served me for a studio, sitting-room, bed-chamber—all. I had made the acquaintance of a little gronp of fellow artists assembling at n cheap cafe —half Swiss, half German— in the Soho district. They were Eng lish, with a Frenchman among them, whose name was Alphonse, I think, or Adolphe ;I am not sure which. But when a Frenchman is not Alphonse, l e is usually Adolphe. They made me welcome, and were of service to me. One of them kindly in troduced me to his pawnbroker, from Tvnom I derived much useful assistance; though, the more I sought his aid, the more my wardrobe diminished. But lost could not be helped. I had to live. We talked, and played dominoes, and smoked—the Englishmen, cigars ; the Frenchmen, cigarettes ; I, my pipe with the china bowl, plated lid, ana worsted tassels. They were kind to me, al though they found me laughable, with my long hair, my spectacles, and my bad English. I aid not mind. Indeed I did not understand them. Jokes as a rule are always thrown away upon me. As I have said, I am slow. Of my art I soon discovered they did not think highly. I had brought with me from Germany a large unfinished picture. It waa illustrative of a scene in the Minna Von Barnlielm of Leasing. I was informed to my chagrin that I/easing was almost unknown in Eng land, and that my labor accordingly had been wasted. I had been prond and bopefnl of my picture, though I can admit now that it was a crude and clumsy performance. My friends criticised it very freely— they grew derisive over it. I thought IslpJbard, because the work had really cWtTHe much. Thavenot a ready hand. I eoukl newer design my adroitness. Far one stroke that is correct I execute sfx that are all wrong; so my canvas comes to have a muddled blundering look. lam myself shocked at its ugli ness. Yet I usually—with obstinate ♦oil and severe persistency—get things right at last. My friends had quick eves and dex terous hands—they sketched with sur prising facility snd vivid effect. Al phonse, as I will call liim, was in his way especially gifted. He could design as deftly as lie oould twist up a cigarette, or twist the end of his mustache into 3 pin points. A few movements of his pencil and the thing was done. Mnch more than this I think he could not ac complish. Me was true to his origin ; he WM of a nation of aketchera—great FHKD. KT' HTZ, Ivlitor ami Proprietor. VOL. ML at beginning, leaving completeness and achievement tvi others tho Germans j let a say. He grained wickedly, aeoffiugly at uiy picture. " My poor Huns," said an English man, "kindly he has grown famous aiote, I am glay to say, for he was a ♦rue artist -"thia wtll not do, Turn Minna Von Harnhebv. to the wall. Thut'a 'my advice. Paint something smaller, simpler, or you will stand no ohaucc with the dealers." When we were alone, he proffered me help from his purse- -though it was but poorlv furnished, and he was, 1 knew, l in debt. I would not "borrow of him ; but I thanked him till my voice failed me, and I could not see for my tears. 1 had by this time quite a pack of pawn tickets. I was subsisting, like a moth, ou my clothes. A coat lasted me a week, a waistcoat throe days, am! so on. llut soon I should have nothing ' more to pledge, and then ? I was very miserable. I could see suspicion aud mistrust ou the face of my landlady, printed in deeper and pfaiuer lines every day. She was afraid of losing her rent. She told me 1 must give up my garret, and find another home. Where ? lu the street—or the Thames ? I tried to live on as little as possible. I went out every day for an hour or so, that my landladv might think 1 was dining." I walked hither aud thither, in retired streets, furtively devouring a penny loaf of bread—it was all 1 coulu afford." Then I returned, effecting a light step, singing or whistling;, with the air of one refreshed and in good j spirits. But I was an indifferent actor. Was she duped, that landlady, I won der? Perhaps. My stomach was not, I know. There was uo deceiving that. What comfort was left me ? Only my pipe and my love for Frederics. Aud presently my pipe had to go—round the corner. "My love, not being nego tiable, alone remained. I tried to paint—something, any thing, a sketch, a study, that would bring money to bny food with. My i English friend set up su easel for me ip his studio. He had models coming to him : surely loould do something with them ? Here was a Mulatto, of superb contour, muscular, sinewy, nobly pro- I portioned, a Hercules in bronar. Here !h lovely English girl, a bouquet of bright colors, roses and Lliee, violets and gold. Here a Spanish gipsy, with blue-black hair, flashing eyes, ivory teeth, and cheeks like russet apples, j flushed with sunset. It was in vain. My heavy heart weighed down my hand. It was dnller, more awkward, and inert than ever. I conld do nothing. I retreated to my garret. I flung myself upon my truekle bed: not to 1 sleep, but to torture myself with fears, memories, dr .-ams, my head burning, my brain disordered. Dnsk came, and then night The ' moon-rays flooded the room, to fade gradually into the yellow twilight of the morning. Another day was dawn ing to find me more wretched and for lorn and destitute than ever. I could not rise. I lay upon mv bed, dressed as I was, thinking—thinking—in a con fused, fevered way; not of the future— ' I did not dare do "that—bnt of the past and the miserable, most miserable pres ent. And, now and then, the name of i Frederics broke from my lips. Suddenly there came the Bound of | some one moving in my stndio. I start ed—l roused mysell. It was morning, i A figure stood upon the little throne j fronting the easel. Frederics ! She was clothed in fluent draperies of white; her flaxen hair streamed, a very mantle, over her shoulders; her bine eyes were turned heavenward; her slen der alabaster hands were crossed upon her bosom. She was a Haint— an angel! j The Frederic® of my dreams, my hoj>es, mv love, was posing before me ' I flew to my palette and brashes and set to work. I sketched with a facility 1 and rapidity I had never before aud have never "since accomplished. I toiled on like one inspired. I trembled with eagerness. I conld bear my heart beat; . Ore seemed to be couraing through my j j veins. A picture was growing under my hands- a picture to be proud of. I , dreaded each moment that the vision ' j would vanish. But he remained—motionless as ever—with the same rapid air. divinely > bountiful. Khe spoke no word; nor did I address her. I dreaded that speech might dissolve the spclL My blessed Fred erica ! I had been thus engaged some honrs; my task was nearly completed. For a moment 1 paused to breathe freely, and to close and rest my burning eyes. I was faint and sick with fatigue and ex citement Yes, and with hunger; I had not tasted food for twenty-fonr honrs and more. When I turned again to look at Fred erics, she had departed ! All was over. It was a dream, perhaps; bnt I hail pro duced a picture. My strength failed i me, and I sank helplessly upon the floor of my stndio. Presently consciousness returned to me. I found my English friend aud Alplionse beside me. They were in specting my portrait of Frederics; for it was s portrait, althongh of that fact they had ro suspicion. "Come, cheer np, Hans," said the Englishman. "This will do. This is by no means bad, don't yon know?" • "C'cst mngoiflqne," said Alphonsc. " Voila un artiste aui peint de chic!" He was pale with envy, it seemed to me. The picture was far beyond any thing he conld execute. Of that I felt assured. And he was jealous. I dis liked him ; that's the plain truth. And he did not like me. It may be that wo did not understand each other. I lost sight of him soon afterwards. Many years elapsed before I heard what bad become of hint. He was shot in the late war, it apperaed. He had taken arms for his native land, and perished in an affair of outposts nesr Tnionville —not a regular battle, bnt a mere sketch of one. Bo far, be had )>een faithful to himself to the last. He never had to do with anything beyond sketches. He oonld complete nothing—not even his lire. That was bnt a fragment—an out line never filled in. Bnt I.digress. The Englishman sentout for beer and bread ana meat. He said cheering words, patting me on the back ; he sat with me while I ate ravenously, like a wolf. I ceased to tremble; I grew warm and comfortable. Then he took away my painting. He returned later in the day, bringing me money for it. He had sold it advantageously to a dealer of his acquaintance. I was happy and hopeful once more. And, forthwith, I took my pipe out of pawn. My lnck bad turned. Thenceforward I prospered—not too Bnddenly, or in an extraordinary measure, but after a gradual and modest fashion. I was content if I could but earn a suhatence; and this came to be more and mors a matter of certainty with me. I was en abled to sell my pictures, upon terms that were moderate, but still sufficient. Only I could produce but few pictures ; not that I lacked industry, for indeed I labored incessantly ; but my constitu tional slowness could not be wholly overcome. In time there arose a cer tain Bteady demand for my works. I was not famous, but I was succeeding. I had even sold at last my illustration of the scene in Lessing's Minna Von Barnnelm; and for a considerable price. THE CENTRE REPORTER. I All this had occupied some time, however. Y'ears, indeed, hail passed ; ! for it is only very rarely that a name I can be made in a day ; and, then, it is never such a usuie as Hans. 1 had worked on steadily without quitting London ; but I had removed from mv garret studio to more convenient and seemly premises. I was growing gray, and a look of age had come into my ' face. My figure was less erect than it had been, and was tending to uugrace fuluess of contour. All my waistcoats had been enlarged. I was, indeed, ' portly, from driukmg English beer, or from age aud success, continued with constitutional inclining*. I had not forgotten my Frederics. Certainly not. Hilt no suoh vision of her as I have described had again visit ed me. It was in my dire need that she had come to me; but my time of need was over. Still, she was often in my thoughts. Often I resolved to return to Germany, seek her out, and entreat , her to bo tnino. I will go, 1 said, when , I hsve saved so much money ; when I have completed this picture or that. Still I did not move. Mv uatuaal slow ness hindered me ; and t postponed mv departure from time to time. Yet 1 had fsirlv sttaiued the end of mv coming to England. I was generally recognised to be a successful painter in my j>e ottliar and, jmrhaps, narrow path of art. 1 was rich enough now both to love aud to marry. Formerly I could only afford to love—an inexpensive pursuit as I had conducted it. At length I war constrained to go ; for ne'ws reached mo from Gertuauy of the serious illness of my father. The poor old " man was dying, I was told. Alas ! 1 arrived at hi* bedside only in time to close his eyes. Then 1 commenced my quest of the Fraulein Frederics. It was with difficulty I could obtain anv tidings of her. There was a new snl>-rector at the university. The llerr Professor Yandergncht wus no more. He was almost forgotten. Presently came news; but what news ! I was doomed to hear that my Froderiea had become the wife of Hcrr Sehnelieu, of the firm of Eiaendeeken A Scbnellett, merchants of Hamburg, trading largely iu traiu oil. hides, and colonial produce. I sought out Herr Sohuellen, for I was determined that 1 would not quit Germany until I had seen once mure mv first and onlv love. Herr : chnellen was an elderly gentle man, portly and bald, with very stiff collar* ; bnt his manners were gracious. I introduced myself to him, informing him that I had once enjoyed the ac quaintance of his wife when she was Frauletu Frederics, only daughter of the Herr Professor of my university. "A long time ago, rnein Herr." he said with s laugh. "She wa.* beautiful then." " Wonderfully beautifuL" " One forgot Ler infirmity ; at least, I did." And he sighed. What infirmity ? I did not dare to ask. Had Frederics a temper ? Well, it wa* to bo excused ; she was the wife of Herr Sohuellen. He invited the to bis house. He led me into s spacious apartment hand somelv furnished. My Frederics! It wa* difficult to recognize her iu the rotund lady, rubi cund, white-haired, short-of-neck, and redundautly supplied with chins, who sat huddled in an eaaj chair bv the stove, with a crowd of chubby children of both sexes and various ages gathered about her. Bhe was regaling them with "thjek milk"—a mess of aonr eream, sugared, and mixed with bread crumbs. Y'es ; it must be she, and no other. I suppressed my amazement as best I could, and advanced toward* her, bowing with my utmost politeness, when there suddenly occurred sn alarm ing noise in the street without, a deto nation—a violent explosion that shook the house to its very foundation. "Ah ! 1 had forgotten," said Herr Schnellen. "We must open the win dows, or we shall have every pane of glass broken. Yon have sot hoard the 1 news t" " What news ? " " Paris has fallen. They are firing the salute in celebration of thegreat event" Another roar from the guns. " Come in," said Froderiea, quietlv, as though in answer to some one lightly tapping at the door. " Bhe bears I" cried Herr Schnellen, with a gratified sir. " You perceive that Froderiea is not so deaf as people have said." "Deaf?" " You have forgotten, mein her. Froderiea was held to be almost stone deaf in ber yonth." No wonder that in addition to her other charms she had possessed that of silence—that her reposo of manner had been so supreme—tha! r !:r !i id shrunk from being Iroabled with sj>eeehes, of which she could not hear one word ! " It makes her very quiet," said Herr Schnellen. " But that is not, in it wife, such a drawback as yon may think." There was a slate before her, which wa* employed, it appeared, as a means of conversation. Bhe was ir. formed, by its means, concerning mo. Bnt it was clear thst she did not entertain the slightest recollection of me. There were so many students nnder the Herr Professor, her father, she explained. And so rasnv of them were named Hans. And they were all yonng; whereas I—bnt this she did not add— wok middle-aged, to say the least of it. Little more than this passed at our interview. I took my leave, depressed and dis turbed as to tho present, but not as to the past; that could not be. I did not love the wife of Herr Schnellen. I am a moral character. Bat still I loved the Frederics who, though lost, was yet contained in the stout form of that mat ron lady, Fran Schnellen, like a sov ereign secreted in a loaf of bread, or the needle in the bottle of hay of the English proverb. It was true that my Frederica oonhl not now be parted from the envelope which so substantialized and magnified her. That was a misfor tune I had to endure as best I conld. Altogether, I bore it pretty well. Mine was still the ethereal Frederica. Herr'Behnellon's the more materinl-I may even say the very material -Fred erica, from whom all ethereal properties had completely evaporated. Mine had been the spell; the disenchantment, possibly, Her Bchnellen's. Bhe never knew of my love. I am not sure that she was ever thoroughly awaro of my existence. But whut did it mat ter? The genuineness of my passion was not thereby affected. The votary's offerings may not be received ; his adoration may l-e unrequited. Htill, his sincerity remains unquestionable— it may even'be the more sublime. My love was a dream, almost a folly ; but not entirely so, for, remember, it sustained me in un hoar of sore tronble, it was attended with solid advantages. To it I owed suoh Hnccesfl as f have ob tained ; and, moreover, it oolored and influenced my life, weaving into ite tex ture a threat! of gold. It was romance —it was poetry, to my thinking ; and have not these value, however seeming ly fond and fntile, vague of purpose, and vain of result ? I should liavfe sought her sooner ? It msy be so. Perhaps things happened for the best. I still call her ray Fred erica, thinking of her ever as she was in my Bursohen days —as she appeared in that vision in my Btndio, when she like an angel released me from despair CENTRE HALL. CENTRE CO.. PA.. THURSDAY. MARCH ', 1874. and destitution, and led me back to life and well-being. 1 returned to Lotidou to uiy art and to my pipe. Art, at any rate, is alwsys faithful; and, perhaps, to one of uiy years, a pt(o is the l*st of wives. It is silent as Frederics ; but what comfort it exhales! how it tnar* with one ! how it even encourages one's dreaming*, and lto|Ms, and lligl tsof faucy! How coin pauiouable ! how enduring ! how con soling ! Aud it nevur disagrees with one ; unless, of course, it is very much abused. lie keeps a Horse and Carriage. The man across the way, says the Danbury AVica, has a horse and carri age. We have none. Three sadder words we never saw. The man across the way drives gaily forth every pleasaut afternoon with his wife beside him. And we envy him aud can't help it. There are others of the neighbors who envy hint, and conld we read each other's hearts we would find that our thoughts were following the lucky horseman iu hia various turns about town, in his cantering here and trot tiug there, and in the shine of hi* car riage and the proud bearing of his horse. Hut if it is a sadness to see him drive away, there is a pleasure in see ing him come Itack. For it is dark when he returns, the sunshine is gone, and iu its stead i* darkness with frost iu it. He smiled complacently when lie handed his wife iuto the carriage, but he doesn't smile when he hands her out. Perhaps the ojh* ration re quires so much care and attention that it would not be right to smile. We know his nose is red because we can sec it aa he drives by the lamp. We know that his feet are frigid and that his legs are a*leej>, bv the way he gets down to the ground. *We are ls*giuniug to see how wrong it is to envy our fel low-msn. He looks at her as she rims into the nouse and iuto the arms of the genial base-burner, and gloomily won ders why heaven so favors her above him. He stumbles paiulully along to the stable with the horse, which he now thoroughly doepisea, rambling be hind him. Ilia hands an* so numb he can hardly undo the fastenings of the door; hi's leg* have awakened, and appear to be reproaching him ; his eyes arc full of water, and his sou! overflow ing with discontent. No harness was before so difficult to remove as is this. He feels the wrath bubbling up to tho highest water-mark, and he could scream out—he is so mad. We are seeing now how'wicked it is to enTy our fellow man. He hears footsteps ou the sidewalk, and see* the flash of warm light shoot out into the cold air as the various neighbors, having re turned fr>m their work.t ud having no horse, disappear hastily within, and take with them the bright, cheerful light. He gets the horse in the door, and starts to look up the lantern. Ue humps various parts of his anatomy against articles it is too dark to learn the nature of. He would cry out in his pain and misery were he not owed by the astonishing profusion of the things he is falling over. He gives up the lantern and null* off the harness to hang it np. The straps dangle down and get nnder his feet, and trip him, and the impatient animal suddenly b-.lt* into the stall Itefure it is fully un dressed. Then there is another search for the lantern, and during it he rap* hia head against a beam, and the blow is so violent thst it stirs up every one of his ideas, including the one which tells him thst the lantern wa* taken into the house hud night to be cleaned. He stumbles back over the frown clods aud into the honse, where the bright light and warm air render him more gloomy and morose. He vouchsafes uo information to the appropriate querv from his wife if it wa* cold ont, but darkly hints of impending retribu tion to whoever doesn't quit fooling with that lantern; and thou stalks back to the stable. And there for tho next fifteen mmntss he employs himself in arranging the bedding, mixing the feed, aud pondering on the advantage he has over his neighbors in having s horse and carriage of his own, to go where he pleases, and come when ho— it is dark. New York Potter's Field. The burial pits in the New Y'ork Pot ter's field are deep excavations (the average depth is about ten feet), as may be inferred, and extend almost lelow low-water mark on Hart's Island. When the Fidelity brings a load of bodies from the city, they arc taken to the gronnd atul laid side by side in the pit. Titers is no indecency about the treat ment of the bodies, aud the handling is careful and orderly. A coffin may burst open now and then, and its frightful contents—for death is frightful at all times, and under such circumstances doubly so—tnrnblc out, bnt the mishap is soon rectified, and the burial proceeds as if nothing hjpl happened. A* a boat load of coffins is placed in the pit they are covered with earth, not six feet in depth, bnt in winter, six inches. In summer, for protection, however, the covering is put on mncli thicker. It is_ never very heavy, as economy of space is the rale st all seasons. The superin tendent of those pita has marked every coffin pnt in them since Hart's Island has been used aa a Potter's Field. He is a German, and appears to be perfect ly st home in the loathsome business, for it certainly is loathsome in summer, if not at all times. In these pita the burials are promiscuous—white and block, men, women and children art laid side by side. For the benefit of the poor who desire it, single graves can In- purchased for the moderate price of three dollars. These graves are numbered and the sum nsmod covers all expenses. Some times bodies which aro expected to be reclaimed are given scpuiate interment, bnt if tho reclamation is not made within a reasonable period they are rcmovod to the general place of sepul ture. A Curioos Lake. One of onr New England exchanges relates the following: "A body of wnter, said to cover an area of two acres or more, has just been discovered on the top of one of tlio mountains in Olateubnry. Borne of the oldest inhab itants say that many years ago it was known to be there and was called the ' Lost Pond,' and that one day Stephen Fratt, then of Bennington, Yt, and two other gentlemen were roaming ultout in the then semingly interminable forests, trapping. Happening to have hooks and lines in their pockets they deter mined to see if there wasn't some trout in the small brook which they came across. After getting everything in readiness they threw their hooks into the little brook, and to their amazement, as they afterwards expressed it them selves, •it was filled with trout!' They fished along up the stream a few rods, and to their utter astonishment, came to the pond above mentioned. There they said tho trout ' took hold too fast for sport!' They caught more than they could bring home through the v..>ods, and were consequently obliged to 1-ave some, but with u determination that they would visit the pond the next day. After a long march they finully reached the road to town, where they had left their team, hut greatly fatigued. Thoy traveled all the next day, but could not find the pond, and it has not been discovered until now." The Ho)at Bethllng. Hum llie llritlal I'alr !!titt4,000,000 of the public debt had been paid. In 1872 the expenditures had l-een reduced to $277,000,000, and $99,- OOO.OOOof the publiedebt had l-een paid. In 1873 the expenditures had rau up to $290,000,000, and only $43,000.0000f the public debt had been paid. This year the expenditure# would be§819,000,000, without paying one dollar of tl|g pub lie debt. He compared the expenses for collect ing the Customs from 1860 to 1873, giv ing the folloxring figures: 1866, $4,- 200,000; 1967, $1,590,000; 1868, $-.- 614,000; 1869, $6,256,000; 1870, $6,- 448,000; 1871, $6,452,000; 1872, $6,- 174.000, and 187J, $8,237,000. The receipts ol the first seven month* of the fiscal year 1872 3, compared with the corresponding months of 1873-4, were as follows : For 1*72-3 -CnSona *111.000.000 Internal Revenue 67.000.000 Total *I7S,MS.7S4 For 1873-* —Cni4all .*93.000,000 Internal Revenue 67,000,000 Total *160,6X7.0M —showing s falliug off in the receipts of the present year from those of last vear of $28,315, not unfreqneutly bones iukl whole ckr casses aro found miles from the place. The air haR been known to change ma terially in temperature during exhala tion from quite cool to unpleasantly hot, withering vegetation within reach, and accompanied by a terrible roaring, gurgling sound, as a pot boiling. It is unaccounted for by scientific men who have examined it, though no explora tion can take place It is feared bv many that a volcanic eruption may break forth there some time. Such things liave occurred in places as little unex pected. The customary talk is about every body's " assets." But tho mercantile acceptation of the word does not in e ude many tilings, the value of which is all the greater, because tjiey cannot be seized for debt; nor can tliey be counted among the effects of men who are unhappily forced iuto the declara tion of bankruptcy. These " assets," available to the debtor after he lias sur rendered everything else, and available to the solvent man as well, include sundry valuables not quoted in tho market— Bucb as health, industry, and temper ance. The theme of this article is one which seldom has its due accorded to it. It is the wealth of leisure in the long winter evenings. A Mrangrly f Had Htory, A I.Httr Ulrl Huns •Kit MiMi.nl by a Uur a l>r-A luttl lu aw* Chapter. The nisy be seen in sn up-town mil linery store hero, ssys s New Y'ork cor respondent, a pale aud sad-facial woman, who, if any strauger givea her a second glance, bends over her work Slid seeks to hide her awfully mutilated countenance. The forehead la crushed iuto her head fully two inches deep, the bone of the uoae ha* leen hideously broken, and one ear project* from her hair in the neighborhood of the organs of be nevolence aud veneration. The duties of the little eunntry girl for one pleasant October day were? end ed, and Minnie sat with her dolls in the kitchen, when a knock at the door was heard. Bhe answered it and found a ruu;rh looking man, who asked for a drink of water and the nearest road to the next town. Little Minnie gave him what he asked and the man turned to depart, but as lie passed through the swinging gate he caught his thumb in it and eruahed it so badly that the watchful, kind child cried to him to come back and she'd give him some thing for it Britigiug a bottle of arnica she bound bis bloody thumb up with oue of her doll's calico aprons and thus bandaged, the thumb went off and took the rough looking man with it, and Minnie ate her supper, put her babies to bed, said her prayers aud went her self to sleep in a trundle bed. This aunt had married years before, sepa rated from her husband and supposed him dead. Bhe kept a little millinery establishment, and had for a long time lived with her mother, a well-to-do old woman of eighty. Grandma this night slept iu aunt's bed. The aunt had gone for some new fashions to the dis tinguished capital, Burlington, so that the two were alone in the honse. About twelve a tiicretug cry from the old woman woke the girl, and starting up she beheld two men with black doth over tbeir heads and all their faces hut their eyes, one of the in emptying the drawer of the bnrean, the other polling the poor old woman down on the floor from a window to whteh she had sprang. Out climbed Minnie and laid bold of the ruffian, and a jp<>or day for Minnie's beauty it was. The merciless wretch made quick work of the old woman. A blow on the Lead and a moment's pres sure on the neck and the grandmother waa qniek Minnie shrieked and u-reamed, and with awtul oaths the murderer * truck her on the head with a flaltron two or three times, and left her tor dead beside her grandmother. After searching the honse theyjroturned to the room where their victims lay. M innie. notwithstanding her awful in juries, had regained her senses. Bhe dimlv saw, through the clots of blood that blinded her eyes, that the work of murder was not yet complete. One of them tore pieces from s cotton wadded comfortable on the bed, with a case knife packed it into the cracks beneath the "mop boards" around the room; poured a can of oil upon it, set it on flro and left the house ; Minnie watched the whole operation, and aaw that the man who had murdered her grand mother, wore on his right thumb the blue calico doll's apron sue had bound upon the strange man in the afternoon. As no glimpse of the face had been seen on Una second visit, thia waa the only cine she had. bnt aa the little girl saw few faces the countenance of the wounded man whose thumb she tied up was stamped upon her memory, as in delibly as tlie blow be had dealt her waa printed on her poor, young forehead. The Are was creeping along in sot cral places ; the smoke was pouring out from lietwevn the overlapping board* of the frame bouse. Mtnnte crawled to the water pitcher, and dtagging herself about the room ponerd the water ou the i burning rag*. A dense smoke arose from them, and choked and fainting Minnie I-cosine again unconscious, finally to be awakened by s great out cry, as several early rising farmer neighbors broke into the boose. Tho j poor old woman had been hours dead, and Minnie's chances for living were j com ted nothing, bnt the girl wasyonug and strong, and even with the* rode j skill of country practitioners Minnie gut well, and" dreadfully disfigured ' lived to work out a dreadful vengeance. The aunt returned and wept and mourned the mother murdered, and tho , little neice so terribly wounded. In ; duetime after Minnie was well a benevo- i lent person took the child into the mountains of New Hampshire to regain the strength lost in that night of terror. Daring the visit which lasted all the j next summer, the supposed dead hits band of the sunt turned up, told a dis- j raaltale of hardship in the mines of New j South Wales, shipwreck and sickness in the four quarters of theglobe. Woman- • like, the woman forgave the wanderer, I and selling the old farm at his instiga tion, Ixith went to live in Boston, j Borne months after this change, while : the husband was away,, the sunt sent, for Minnie, and Minnie straightway ; obeyed, though "the kind people she : was with urged her to remain, saving the poor, disfigured creature would not 1 attract the attention among them she i would in a city of strangers. Butaffec tion for her aunt determined the child, and she arrived at her relative's %nd hail Iwn there a week, when one even ing she, in passing through tho hall, met a man to whom, after giving one glance, she flew. Catching him by the throat she screamed like one mad. The different inmates of the house spoedilv gathered on the scene. Min nie still clung to the man's throat, de nounced him as the murderer of her grandmother and her own would-be executioner. With horror, the aunt heard this statement, for the man to whom tfie girl clung thus frantically j was the newly-returned husband. The , child reiterated over and over again the story of the hind jammed in the 1 gate, which she had done up, and toe aunt remembered, when he first pre seated himself, he was losing the nail i from bis piratical old thumb, and suf fered mnch pain with it, and told some tale of catching it iu a marling spike or some other nautical trap. Bhe took sides with the niece, and was loud and firm in her accusations as the poor lit- ' tie witucss. Bume officious neighbors went for the police. The man was ar rested aud committed for examination. A smart attache of the station-bouse weut to the prisoner and told him they'd got the other man and he'd confessed. This scare*! the ignorant wretch, and he admitted tho whole affair, laying the blame of the murder on the accomplice. After a long and tedions trial—tha details of which Min nie. now an elderly woman, has forgot ten—the uncle was sentenoed to State Prison for life. He has been dead many years- Tho married woman whose early life was bo tragically eventful, Bupjiorts herself as a milliner, and is so amiable, pleasant and intelligent a per son that upon acquaintance one almost forgets tho fearful face that strikes s stranger as perfectly appalling in ite hideousnets. This is the moral. All youtig people should remember that a sweet disposition will compensate for a forehead lammed in by a flat-iron. And though their ears be knocked to the top of their headß and stick up like a donkey's, they can walk off on those ears and be happy—if only they are good and cultivate nice manners. Terms: $*2.00 a Year, in Advance. The Robbers of Use West. Itlsssdlsi Optrallan* mt Ik* Hltwsri Mr. 0. W. Alford, the oottdnalor of the Little Rock express train, which was robbed ou the Cairo and Fulton Railroad at Oad'a Hill, has made the following statement of the audacious robliary to the Hi. Lonia /i'publican : Train No. 7, Little Hock t-xpreae, left Ht Icnia and arrived at (lad's Hill, 190 miles front Ht. Louis, at s quarter to 5 i*. v., nearly an hour behind time, being n nearing the place I aaw tome people on the platform, and one of them waved a red nag aa a signal of danger ahead. On coming np to the platform the traiu waa Itatled, and the switch on the south waa turned on the aidi track, while the switch on our rear was alao thrown on the side track aa quick aa we paaaed it, so the train conld not move forward or run back. Boon the indications showed the true condi tion of matters. A number of persona were on the platform under guard, and it waa ascertained that all the renidenta of the place, including boys and girls, had been captured. They were gath ered about a fire in the open air to keep warm. It turned out that the place waa in poasesaton of five desperadoes. three of whom were armed with double bar relled guus, and all had navy revolvers. Aa aoon aa I got there, on seeing the ml flag, I jumped off the train, think ing that the track waa torn up. A man advanood and caught me by the collar and atnek a piatol to mv faee. He waa at least aix feet in height, and wore a tnaak on his face composed of white cloth, like a handkerchief, and the lower portion waa tucked in hta bosom. There were holet far hia eyes and noae. I waa a little surprised', bnt under stood Irts object when he shouted, on thrusting his pistol in my face: " Stand still, or I'll blow the top of your head of." He at the aame time yelled: "If a shot is fired out of the car I will kilt the conductor." By this time two of the ruffian#, masked' alike, went to the engineer and fireman of the train and made them flume down. Another of the robbers, alao rnaaked and armed, took a position on the opposite aide of the train, and aa any of the passengers stack their heads out of the windows he drew a Lead on them with a double barrelled shot-gun, and shouted, " Take your heads in and not move out at the car!" a summons which they thought prudent to obey, or take the contents of hia gun. The captured engineer and fireman were brought to the platform where I was held a prisoner, and were told to stand there or they would be shot. The robbers then ordered the brakeman and baggageman to stand be side me. Two of the desperadoes then went into the mail room of the baggage car, and accosting the mail agent with threat*, demanded the registered pack age*. They then rummaged over the package*, tore them open, threw thetu oil the floor, end then placed the mail j agent in company with the crowd tta dor guard. They then wrent to the ex press meaaenger'and made him give up hia keys and hia pistol. The express messenger had hia pistol drawn on one of the robbers, but another one of the gang covered him with a shot gun and . waa ready to blow hia head off had he not immediately surrendered. The robbers next went to tho safe aud took out the money and packages. They overltsuled oue package marked " watch," opened it, and, finding that it xrms a silver timepiece, threw it down ou the floor. At this time the gang was disposed as follows: There were two or them in the baggage-oar rum maging ami ng the money packages and valuables, one standing guard on each side of the train, and one guarding as uear the platform. They looked through the boxes, broke open my satchel, and took therefrom my pistoL They then started through the train, robbing the passengers. In this operation they were boisterous, and punched some of them in the riue and face with tbeir pistols, ordering them to give up thetr money. Three females in the ladies' car and two in the sleeping-car only es caped from being robbed. One lady — Mr*. Scott of Pennsylvania—and her son were robbed in the sleeping-car of S4OO. Thev were on their way to Hot Springs. They left Mrs. Bcott only ten cents. One ladv was robbed of three handkerchiefs. They got $1,085 from the Adams Express. Also the folloxring amounts from the passenger*: From Silas Ferry, $750 ; from C. D. Henry, $154.- 25; from Col. G. L. Dart, Pent, Ind., S3O; from Mt. Lincoln, of St. Paul, S2OO ; from O. S. Nexrell, the sleeping car conductor, S2O; from John McKban of Wabash, Ind., sls; also a ring worth £lO and a breastpin valued at $10; from James Johnson (colored) sleeping-car porter, $2 ; from the train boy, $4. t Another passenger, who declined to give his name, lorn a gold watch. I loot SSO and my t-istol. There were twelve or fifteen gold wmtchee on the train, and only one was taken. They took my gold watch, bnt the bagg'age master said, " For God's sake, you won't take it, for it is s present," and the watch waa given back to me. They got away with fonr or five pistols in all. They didn't bother the baggage in the least. Besides what they robbed from the passenger* tbey got SBOO from a citixen of Gad's Hill, and alao his rifle. They did not apt-car to be nnder the inflnence of liquor, but were very noisy. Tbey would exclaim : Give me your pistol, you son of a , you've got more money than all that comes to !' "Shell out or I'll blow your brains out!" with such like threats and ejaculations. Col. Morlay, chief engineer of the Cairo and Fulton Railroad, expostulated and mode an effort to reoover some of the prop erty, but a pistol was shoved in his faoe and he was told to sit down and mind his business. I asked the robbers if they had got through, so I conld go on with tho train. They said yes. They allowed me to shut up the switoh in the front, and the switch in the rear was closed bj the brakeman. A member of the Legislature got off here to go to his home, and found his son, who came to meet him, under Eard of the robbers. I don't think 3 legislator was robbed. When we got ready to start the rob bers shook hands with the engineer, William Wetton, and told him when ever he saw a red flag out ite ought to stop. They then strolled off to thei horses, tied up about a hundred yard" distant, and rode out of sight before we got under way. They went southward.. I think they are a regular set of roxi hers, and am positive they are the aame §ang who robbed the coach at Hot prings, and probably were among the lowa mail train robbers. It was ascertained that they took din ner on Tuesday at Moaks, near the State line, and also st Mill Springs on Friday, the day before the robbery of onr train, The left a special with a passenger of lb sleeping ear tor the St Louis iHspatrk, which referred to tb m: about the HotHprings robbery, end Lhir contained • trao ac ooatit of the prawui affair. It is avi j dent hat they ere men need to the brai nrae. One of them, when robbing the express msitsengar, entered on the book, " Habited at Oad'e Hill," end remarked thai be had aigned that book before, ltofere our arrival thaj bad been at Oad'e Hill a couple of bonre, and were with u about forty minute*. The re sult wae that they took in all about •2.300 from the train, four registered packages, one gold watch, flee pistole, >oc ring, and one pin. Had they made their raid the day before, they would bare got about #5,000 or •6,000 wiiieb waa t*ing shipped by exprseo. k Faithful Agent. j The present Duke of Hamilton, Wil liam Alexander Looie Stephen, ia the t well Lb. He waa bora in 183S, and ia , now conaeqnently ia hia forty-first! , rear. His father married in 1828 the Erinoeaa Marie of Baden, cousin of Napoleon lIL At the early sge of eighteen, the press nt. duke aueoeeded to ths great possessions which ooosti tute the inheritance of the boose of Hamilton, Hamilton palace with its associations and traditions of cantoris*, crowded with the treasures of art, of luxury and taste, standing ia its msg uiflrent domain of 50,000 aorta; Brod rick Osage, on the island of Arran, with the fee of almost the entire soil of that romantic and beautiful island; extern . sire property in Linlithgowshire, Bur lingshire and Bate ; the English estate of Eastern Park, in the county of Suf folk, with their enormous rerrnoe, with the cure of their management, and the j responsibility of their administration, fail into the Lands of the young heir at an age when by law he was incapable of making s binding contract The young duke was very soon surrounded by asso ciates who tin madras rained, flattered and cajoled him, lured him to the face course sad betting-room, and before be obtained hie majority had borrowed his name tor thousand*; money lenders and usurers hunted him. sad uts loeaes sad extravagancies of others involved , him in liabilities which seriously em barrassed even his colossal fortune. It was little to be wondered si that in the coarse of e very few years the pecuni ary affairs cif the Duke of Hamilton were known to be in inextricable eon . fusion. Actions and judgments ia England, sequestrations ia Scotland, followed in rspid *ncession. The rent, roll was insufficient to meet accumula ting emergencies, and the owner of these vast possessions was without an income adequate to support bis pou | tion. Affairs were at a dead lock. The trustees appointed by the duke's father to administer the estate, men of honor j and high position, were incompetent to deal with the financial pressure of the momcuk At this overwhelming crisis, by the wish of the duke and the consent of all parties interested, the trusteeship was resigned, and the mesas of extrica tion from the then almost hopeless state of affaira were confided to an agent of great financial resources and ex pert, noe. To him also sraa intrusted i the exclusive management and control of the property, and it is but justice to Hcurv Pad wick to state that by bis fai thiol and judicious stewardship of these princely estates, he has so im proved them, by developing their min eral and other "resource*, thai the iu cnmbrsnece hove been entirely ex tinguished; that all ths personal en gagement* of the duke, whether his own or for othen, have been honorably discharged ; that a rental of £140,00 a year has been secured ; and the result of his seven years' personal adminis tration baa been to place the possessions of the duke in the foremost rank of the richest inheritance of England. llldaM Shoot to Kill. A very strange case reoently came, up iu the oourta of Cumberland, Md. John Coleman loved Orphs Miller, and they were engaged. For some reason the marriage was delayed nearly a year, when Orpha thought better of it and gave Coleman his dismissal. She re ceived other suitors, whereat Coleman became enraged and threatened to kill his rivals. On the morning of Monday, August 26, last, he met Miss Miller in a path in the woods, about half a mile from her her home, aa she waa going to a neighbor's. He aaked her to sit down talk with him, which she did. The interview lasted six boon, and waa no doubt one of those replete with re proaches, explanations and forgiving* that may have experienced and modern novelists delight to sketch. Finding bis case apparently hopeless, he pro duced a revolver and aaked her to shoot him or he would shoot her. Aa she tamed to look sway the weapon was discharged, the ball entering near the centre of the breast, inflicting a very dangerous but not fatal wound. She fell to the ground, and Coleman started off and went home, hiding his pistol on the way under some bushes. Misa Miller lay there about three boors, when she sufficient ly revived to get upon her feet sad managed to walk, though slowly, about half the distance to her home, then meeting a farmer who assisted her the rrot of the way. Her situation was critical for several days, hot a strong constitution successfully withstood the shock and she recovered. Strange to aay, the parties have become reconciled, and though Misa Miller still refuses to marry Coleman, she asserts that the shooting was accidental. The oaae for the defense was conducted with a view to work upon the sensibilities of the jury, and the wonld-be assassin waa aqmtted. _ _ What the tiraagers Desire. The National Grange, in 8k Louis, adopted the following: We desire to bring producers and consumers, farmers ana manufacturers, into the most direct and friendly rela tions possible. Hence we most dis pense with a surplus of middle-men— not that we are unfriendly to them, bat we do not need them. Their surplus and their exactions diminish our profits. * We wage no aggressive warfare against any other interests whatever. Transportation companies of every kind are necessary to oar saooeas ; their in terests are 'intimately connected with our interests. We shall advocate for every State the increase in every prac ticable way of all facilities for trans porting cheaply to the seaboard, or be tween liome producers and oonanmers, all productions of our country. In our noble order there ia no communism and no agrarianism. We are opposed to excessive salaries, high rates of interest and exorbitant profits in trade. No Orange, if true to its obligations, can disouaa political or religious ques tions, nor call politioal conventions, nor nominate candidates, nor even dis cuss their merits in its meetings. Yet the principles we teach underlie all true politics. • We proclaim it among our purposes to inculcate a proper appreciation of the abilities and sphere of woman, as indioated by admitting her to member ship md position in our order. New Jersey's iron mines panned out ore to the value of $3,000,000 last year. ' * The amount expended on the Pann sylvan ia Oonatitiittoeal Convention waa •410,723. An Albany woman applied for s di vorce nine yean ago and just got it the other day. rt Hare ia the aewaat floral eentimeat: i " U yon wish for heart's east, don't look to marigold." MeOarty. the Virginia dcalist, helped his ess* by aoming into ooort on crutches. . ' 4 Take care of your health and wife ; they are the two better halvee that make a man of yon. The Spanish Government is said to have agreed to so exchange of prisoners with the Car lists. • A bank must be a poor plaee to im part a secret, as there is a cash ear and a teller there constantly. The fathom (* feat) la derived from [ the height of a full-grown man. A ' hand/in bone meeenre, ia four inches. A train was wrecked and fifteen per sona injured, near Howard. Illinois, on the Chicago and North-Weetera Bail- I road. Chief-Justice Waite'e grandfather reached ninety. Hie father was eighty iat the time of his death. Both were judges. ! The Siamese twins had contracted to travel in the United States for the com ing aeason, and were to receive #2OO • per week. Housekeepers in Lewiabnrg are spared the trouble of Wowing up their servants, kerosene being need then for kindling fires. Wilkie Coffins can't see bowaa A men , ma can wash, ait down, set dinner ami ; pick his teeth in seven minutes, but it's 1 all in prentice. Heventy-flra per caul of the eiekneea of New York, and probably ninety per ; coot of crime, some from the tenement house population. An Indiana farmer drewftOO from'.he hank, suspended it in the well to bailie thiwi*. andthen fell in and broke bis neck while tying the rope. A Western gambler, about beginning the matrimonial a so far controlled himself aa to say in the stmouneement .