Revival. In th Knowing unci th* blowing, In lh ernel *le*t I.tttl* fl*wn> tlogin thoir growing Far t>onoth otu foot. tofilr up* th* Spring anl oho*rly " Darling*. *r yon he. > J" Till tlioy antwor, " Wo are u*arty. Nearly rcaJy, dear." "Whom i* Wintor, with har snowing .► Toll no. Spring," thoy oay; Than oho answer*. " 11* i* going. Going on hi* way. Poor old Wintor doea dot lov* you— Rut hi* time m pa*t i Boon my bint* ahall *.ng above you R*i you fioo at laat 1" Thorns. " Every Rose, yon au>. ho ito II cm Rut thin ha none, I know." She clasped mi rival's Rose Onr hor lroat of snow. I bowed to liido my With a man's unskillful art; I monad my hp*, and oould not ay The Thorn was in my heart' on: oorsiv There was great excitement in onr little household, vrheu Robert came home one eveuiug and announced that Oousm Max was coming to visit us. We girls had uever seen him, but Rob ert and he bad spent a year together on the eoutineut, when our father was alive aud money was plentiful with us. Since then, our German cousin's name had been almost a household word with us. MAX WAS qui to alone in the world, our anut and her husband both dying when he was quite young. He was almost Robert's age—was tall and fair, and that was all we kuew. Robert—never very good at description—had indeed attempted to giro us some idea of his appearance, but was sileuccd by Claire and Birdie, who both exclaimed that they would rather keep their fancy picture than the caricature they kuew he was drawing. We were verv happy together, and contented general IT. We had been able to keep the old "house, and Robert's income from his profes sion—he wns a lawyer like our father— supported us eery comfortably. The occasional sale of one of my pictures helped us ou a little, and altogether we did very well Sometimes 1 caught myself wishing that Claire (Claire was our beauty) could have the "purple and fine linen " which seemed her right, and that Bir die's exquisite voice might be properly trained : but if I hinted this, Claire would kiss me gaily, asking if she wasn't pretty enough to suit me as she was ; and Birdie would dash off into a description of the life she would lead as a pn/ua donna, and how every night ahe would see old Rob and Gracie look ing severe proprietv from one of the boxes. An.l so my little trouble always ended with a laugh. I was the old maid in the family. Robert was the only one that knew why, and he kept my secret faithfully. I hail got over being unhappy about it, and Robert and I made our plans very contentedly—how we could live on in the old home when the others had flit ted, and what a genuine "old maid's castle "it would be. I was to Robert what the others—dearly as he loTed them—never quite could be, and we did not think our separation possible. We had expected Cousin Max for weeks, and vet he came quite unex pectedly at last. We were sitting in the porch—Claire, Birdie, and I—when we saw Robert coming, and witn him a stranger, who Birdie declared she was sure was Cousin Max. He was talking and laughing with Robert, bat I noticed that, as they came closer, he started violently, and passed his hand over his eyes ; but, recovering himself imme diately, he greeted us with a genuine warmth of affection, which took all our hearts by storm. A gay "evening we passed ! " Coming events " do not " cast their shadows be fore," whatever people may sav. I had never known how really beautiful Birdie was, till that night; but as she stood by the piano, in her soft white dress, with the passion-flowers in her hair, 1 saw Cousin Max gazing at her like oue entranced. Claire's beauty did not seem to impress him at all, perhaps be cause she was like himself ; for indeed they might have been brother and sis ter. Both had the same regular fea ture?, b'ne eyes, and blonde hair. Be side them Birdie looked like some tropi cal flower. Max was never tired of watching her quick, graoeful motions, and Robert and I had a laugh together over our little pet's conquest. Cousin Max was soon thoroughly at home with us all, though Birdie still kept her place as chief favorite. They were left much together, for Claire was soon to leave the old home, and our new brother, Alfred, spent most of his time with as. I was very closely occu pied with my housekeeping, and with preparations for the wedding, which was to be in August. Robert was away all day, so that Birdie and Max were left to amuse each other. He was quite an artist, and greatly to Birdie's de light had offered t J paint her picture. The rest of us were excluded from the studio ; for, as it was his first attempt at portrait-painting, we were not to be allowed to judge of his success 01 fail ore until the picture was finished. He was also teaching German to Birdie, and every morning found them under the trees in the orchard, Birdie with her work, and Max reclining on the grass beside her, reading in his low, thrilling voice, the legends of his Fatherland. Blind—blind ! Did no one of us ever Bee that the child-smile had pass ed away from our darling's face ? Did no one ever think that the soft shining in her dark eyes might be the light of a woman's love ? The picture was finished on my birthday, and was the gift of Max to me. We were all taken in to see it, and never since have I beheld no lovely a picture. Birdie's very self stood be fore us, dressed as Max bad first seen her. But the face—the exquisite dewy softness of her eyes—the lips, just part ed in a happy smile 1 The others were congratulating Max. I could only clasp Birdie in my arms, and hide my foolish tears on her shoulder. That evening we were all sitting in the moonlight. Max waa smoking by the window, and Birdie in the usual place on a footstool at his side. He was unusually silent, and unless by an occasional word to Birdie took no part in the conversation. The room was flooded with the clear brilliance of the moonlight, and everyone protested against lamps. Robert and Alfred were arguing as to the reality of supernatu ral manifestations. The possibility of a second self appearing to warn one of approaching death was mentioned, and Claire turned suddenly to Max : " Mas, you are a German, and should about such things—you tell us." His face was clearly defined by the light streaming through the open window, and I saw his lips compress suddenly ; but when he spoke it was in his usual even tone. "I certainly believe snch a thing liossible, Claire. ludeed, I may say I know it to be so." "O, a Btory ! Cousin Max, a story. Tell us fiow you know," said Claire, eagerly. He smiled slightly. "It is strange, but I have been thinking of this very subject. If I tell you, however, you must expect me to be egotistical, for it is a leaf out of my own life I must show you." Something in his tone impressed us all, and we sat very silent, waiting for him to commence. Birdie's eyes were lifted wistfully to his face, but his were fixed on the stars beyond. " About four years ago, I was visit ing a very intimate friend in the south of Germany. I had never before seen his family, though we had known each other for some time. His father was a strange, fanciful man, knowing every ghost legend aud old superstition by heart. My friend laughed at all such, FliMl). K riiTZ, Ivliioran.l Proprietor. VOL. VII. ■ but his sister, (1 ret la, was a tlrni be liever in all her father's theories. 1 re -1 mained there for some months, and be fore I left, Gretta had promised to be niv wife." "His voice fell, and it wits some mo i meats before he continued. I "Four years ago, tonight. I was sit ting by an open window, as i am uow, . when suddenly 1 was surrounded bv au overpowering scent of violets. This was Gretta'a favorite flower, and 1 im mediately thought of her. Presently I heard a step, aud a rustle of draperv. Bight under my window I saw I could swear to it—Gretta'a face and tlguro. 1 sprung to my feet, ran down the stairs, I and out into the street, but she was ; gone, nor was there any other person in sight. I returned to mv room baf fled and wondering. "A few days after, I heard from Gretta ; she begged me to come to her at once. 1 found her suffering from great nervous exeitement, which she bravely attempted to control iu the presence of her father and brother ; but the evening of my arrival, as we were all sitting together, she left the > room, making a sigu to me to follow her. I found her ou the terrace. She was standing with her hands clasped looaelv before her, her eyes flxed ou something iu the distance, and such a weird, unearthly look upon her face, that I hastened "to arouse her. Laying my hand upon her arm, I spoke her name. She started, then elutig to me, trembling violently. When I attempt ed to soothe her. she burst into tears. When she could speak, she told me that one evening she was standing where we then stood, when she saw a figure coming up the steps from the lower terrace. Thinking it some visitor, she went slowly forward. As they came face to face, the figure raised its head, and she saw—herself! " I siood quite still," Gretta said to me, " and the thin*} came nearer, look ing at me with awful eyes. I tried to speak—to move—but I was held, as if by chains. Then something—whether it was my double or not, I caunot tell, but I heard the words—said ' A year The tower-clock struck seven, and then I fainted." " That was the day on which I, too, had seen the apparition. Gretta had spoken of this to no one, but the im pression that her coming death had been foretold was firmly seated in her mind. In vain I argued against this idea ; she would only shake her head, and smile. " The day on which the apparition first manifested itself was Gretta's birthday, and that day in the coming Tear was fixed upon for our marriage. 'Dunking that change of sceDe would restore my Gretta's failing health, I urged that an earlier day might be fix ed, but her father was obstinate. ' The stars had told him that day would be a fateful one in her life,' and nothing would induce him to change it When I told Gretta of my failure, ahe said gently, * You must not be vexed about it, Max. If I cannot be vour wife on earth, I will be in heaven. Oar cousin paused as he uttered these words, and sat leaning his head back against the curtain. He had used no word of endearment in speaking of his promised wife, bat the tone of sup pressed passion told UB how dearly he had loved her. Claire broke the silence : 44 Was she very beautiful, cousin Max ?" " Ton hav her living image there before YOU," L E SAID, looking down at Birdie's averted face. I saw my pet change color, and presently she arose, and moved qnietly away to one of the windows opening on the garden. Max did not seem to notice the movement, and soon went on with his story : " The time for our marriage was very near when 1 again saw Geetta. Busi ness had kept me from her mnch long er than I had intended. I had almost forgotten the occurrence of the preced ing year, and I hoped Gretta had also. I cannot speak of those few short weeks of happiness, all too short as they were. The day came. We were to have been married early in the day, but the pas tor suddenly fell down in strong con ml • sions, and one at some distance was sent for. When Gretta was told of the delav, she said, quietly, 4 1 knew it wonld be evening. The wedding was to be as quiet as possible, on account of Gretta's health, which, ahnt our eyes as we would, we could not avoid Beeing was failing rapidly. 44 The pastor arrived, and the hour approached. The air was very heavy, and, opening one of the windows, I went ont upon the terrace. Walking slowly forward, I saw a figure in white cross the lower terrace and come slow ly up the steps near which I was stand ing. The form and carriage assured mo that it was Gretta, and, calling her name, I went to meet her. but the fig ure passed qnicklv on, and vanished in the shrubbery. Turning, I saw Gretta at my side. 414 You have seen it, Max !" she said, in answer to my look of amazed inqnirv. 4 The time has come, Max. They , advised us to have the wedding. Max might be ill a long time, he said, ami it was better to have as small a family in the house as possible. So. a week later, Claire was married. Birdie was there, pale aud ■ still, but with a smile on her face, and with loving words ami kisses far our poor beauty, whose wedding hail proved so sad, after all. Alfred and Claire were to leave immediately ; so our good-byes were hurried. " I tu oomiug back in a week," Claire said to Birdie, " and then I am going to take you away with me." Birdie did not speak for a minute, and when she did, she only said softly, "Good by, pretty Claire—good-by." That night Birdie told me the truth. She was taking the fever, and the doc tor had said there was no chance of her living through it. lie had told her, u week ago, that, by nursing Max, ahe might save his life, but she would cer tainly lose her own ; and our Birdie hail answered, " I will save him if I can." "lam so glad Clsire is married : I was afraid she would have to wait," Birdie said to me, O ! so quietly. I begged the doctor to forbid her watching Max, but he shook his head : "It would do no good ; she wouldn't live any longer for it." So, for a little while longer, I sat waiting every night for my darling, outside the door of her murderer, as f called him in my wretch ed heart. Oue morfiiug she was later than usual. The doctor had been with Max all night ; he left about three, tell ing me, as he passed me on the stairs, that Max was better, was sleeping quietly, and must not be distnrted. Four struck, and yet Birdie did not come. I was afraid to open the door, so sat leaning my head on my hand, counting the minutes as they passed. The birds were beginning to sing in the chestnut-tree outside. I sprung to my feet as the door creaked slightly. The nurse was holding it open, and I fancied I saw tears on her wrinkled cheeks. Birdie was standing in the doorway. " It's come now, Gracie," she said softlv, as she clasped her arms about my neclt. The cool Septemlver winds were blow ing, and vet Max had not loft his room. He was able to sit up all the morning, and I used to bring my work and sit beside him. One clear, bright day he was sitting by the open window watch ing the lazilv moving clouds, and the fleeting shadows on the grass. Across the field I could see the willows in the church-yard tossing their long arms above tfie gleaming river, and my heart hardened toward the pale, languid figure opposite me. We did not speak much to each other. He was too weak, and I—what oonld I say ? That morn ing Max seemed restless ; at every sonnd he would glance toward the door, and then tarn awav with a look of pained surprise. At last he said, abruptly: " Grace, why does Birdie never come to see me ? Has she quite forgotten me ?" I was prepared for this. They had told me I must tell him. I had thought and planned what I should sav, and now I could think of nothing. I took the little packet which my darling had given me, and placed it in his hand. "She nursed you through the fever, and she told me t > giro you this." And so I left him. Had I told liirn too abruptly? Had I told him at all ? Dare I go back ? I tried the door when two hours hail passed, but it was locked. When Rob ert came in, I begged him to go and speak to Max, but before he could obey me Max entered the room where we were. He looked ten years older, and his face WAS inexpressibly sail. Robert held out his hand to him with a few kindly words of congratulation npon his recovery. "I must be well," Max said, gravely. " I leave to-morrow, and I want to thank yon now for all yonr kindness, when you had such reason to hate me. But, believe me, I never dreamed that canary, hanging in the window, just then trilled forth its joyous song. Cov ering his face with his hands, lie har ried oat of the room. I am glad that, while he stayed, wc were able to tie kind to him. Before be left, he came to me : " Gracie, forgive me, if yon can. Be lieve me, "your angel in avenged." I kissed hia forehead, and bade him " Godspeed." And ao our Conain Max dropped oat of our livea forever, leav ing no memento of hia viait, aavo the pictnre that hanga before me aa I write —Birdie in her yonth and beauty, with the passion-flowers in her hair—only that, aud a grave m the little church yard by the river. The Browned Students, Private letters to the friends of one of the young American students drowned ut Lausanne, Hwitzeiland, give such details of the accident us could be ascertained. One of the Crane brothers was fonnd sitting upright in the boat nearly submerged, wrapped in the sail and frozen stiff, his hands clutching the sides of the ixiat so hard that the skin was torn from liis fingers. As the two days intervening between the departure of the boys aud the dis covery of the one body had been stormy and cold, it is supposed that the boys discovered the approach of ILo storm and on attempting to lower the sail the smaller of the Crauo brothers fell over board, and that William Woodbnry, who was an excellent swimmer, sprang overboard to save him, but that both were drowned. The remaining boy, it is supposed, wrapped himself in the sail for protection, but became drenched and froze to death in the long continued storm. Excessive exertion often leads to a congested state of the lungs, aud defi cient exercise is capable of producing tubercles in the same organs through nutritional alterations. CENTRE HALE. CENTRE CO.. I'V.. THURSDAY, JUNE 25, 1874. ANOTHER SKAIIUII FOB TRKAM'KK. .* strange Slaty If It it a Trnt lliu. The schooner Witch Queen sailed front San Francisco recently for Uooos Island, on a search for buried treasure. ] The money has been supplied by New York capitalists. In the event of a I failure the vessel is to proceed to the pearl fisheries, otherwise she is ex pected at Sau Frauoiaoo within six months. The San Francisco Hullrtln says that the capitalists put faith in the story of David Sutherland, of Yallejo, i which is as follows : " In the year 1885, when 1 was almut eighteen years of age, I shipped as one of a crew of twelve on board the lutrk enttue Mary Deer, bound from Bristol, England, to Valparaiso. On the way out the captaiu died, leaving but eleven souls on board the vessel. After hav ing discharged our cargo at Valparaiso, we proceeded up the coast to Peru, ami anchored off a Peruvian fort, a few uitles above Uallao. At this time a war existed between the Peruvian and ! Chilean governments. In the fort was gathered a large amount of gold, silver, jewels, and other valuable property, for sufe keeping. An attack on the fort was considered certain, and to keep it front the enemy the treasure was earned ou board of the Mary Deer. After the treasure was placed ou board our vt ssel we were tempted by the glittering mil lions aud formed the design of running away with the precious freight. The cable was cut, the satis were spread, ami our little craft stood out to sea. As soon as the Peruvians were made cer tain that we had taken flight they im mediately gave chase with two or three vessels. But our Vessel was a very swift sailer, aud soon left the pursuers far behind. " We were now in undisputed pe that some chance of our escape would offer, we told them that the money was buried on the Oallipagos Islands, and the ship was immediately started to get it. On our way we, for some cause that 1 never knew, put into the Hay of Panama, and while there, the captain and nearly all of the crew were taken aick. One of my companions died, as well as several of the crew sml some of the officer* of the vessel. One dark night there wa* a breeze sprung up, and a whaling ves sel thst had been lying alongside of u* weighed her anchor and put to sen. Just as she was going out I and my companion slid down the vessel and swm to the whaler. The captain was glad to get us, for he had also lost some of his men while at Panama We were on board this whaler several years, but when she came to Han Francisco we left her and went to the mines. My com panion has done well, and is now living in Napa ; his name is Charles Stuart. I have lived at Vallejo for many years, and am well kuowu there." She Wouldn't Ho. Tom Wilson had l>©cn working on bin poor farm for years, and yet nothing had been laid I>t " for a rainy day. ' He bad thought tho matter over until he came to the conclusion that the best thing he could do was to sell tho old place and go where the aoil was good. He went, fonnd a place that suited him, and when ho returned home broached the subject to his wife, as they, with their children, sat around tho evening meal. " Fannie," he said, " I think wa had l>ettor leave this country ; the old place is alK>nt worn out, and for tho sake of our children, we ought to go where we can do better. They are getting old enough now—" "I'm not going to do it—no, Mr. Wilson, I never will leave this place, and you needn't think any more about it." " I saw somo fine land while I was gone," ho continued. " where wo would soon become well off. 1 looked at a place which wonld suit us exactly, being near good schools and churches. It is fine soil, well improved, a good house and flue orchard, so I think I will sell out here and—" "No, you'll not fell out, I just won't go ; no, I won't; it's foolish to think of anch a thing." " Well, the boys and I will go —won't we, little men ?" " Yes—yes, we'll go—we'll go with papa," exclaimed all three little voices at once. " Well," said Fannie, "you all may go just as fast as you plense, but here's one who won't budge a atop. G* West, indeed, where I don't know anybody— no, not I." Mr. Wilson was determined on go ing, so lie said no morn about it to hia wife, bnt went ahead, sold hia farm, and made all hia arrangements. Ho even packed aphis furniture and house hold goods ; still said nothing to Fan nie. Hia wagons were carried before tho house and loaded, childrcu bundled in, nnd just before driving off Fannie came out, wrapped up nicely, with her traveling basket swinging on her arm. " Where am I going to Bit, Tom ?" Bhe asked. " Oh—ah—why, I thought you weren't going ?" "Of course I'm going wherever you and the children go. Here, put ray chair in there," ami she climbed in tho wagon." That was a long while ago. Tom Wilson is one of the wealthiest farmers in his county now. Where States are Sovereigns. The Supremo Court of the United States, in a recent decision involving the validity of certain acts of tho Mich igan Legislature, authorising the grant ing of municipal aid to railroads, lays down the principle that a State Legis lature is sovereign and able to do what ever is not in terms prohibited to it by the Federal or State Constitution. The effect of this decision is to preveut a largo number of towns in that State, and other Commonwealths, from avoid ing the payment of bonds which they issued in good faith, but subsequently undertook to repudiate. Good Quarters—Quarter dollars. The Tariff 11111. The amendatory tariff bill as passed by the United States House of Repre sentatives imptmes the following rates i of duties : Ou apttu silk, or silk iu the grain, atul on floss silk, M per cent, ad valor em ; on sewing siik, 40 per cent.; on tastings, mohair cloth, silk twist, etc., for buttons exclusively, 10 jer cent; ! on all other silk goods, irrespective of classification, 60 jer cent, (the act not to apply to goods having as a compo nent material thereof 25 per cent., or over, of cotton, llax, wool, or worsted); ou all still wines imported in casks, 50 cents per gallon ; do. in bottles, $2 per case, with a proviso that imported wines containing more thuu 24 |>er cent, of al cohol shall be forfeited, and that there shall be an allowance of 2 |>er cent, for leakage, and of 5 per cent, for break j age ; on hops, 10 cents per pound ; ou chromate ami hi-ehrumate of potasaa, 4 J ' cents per pound ; on macaroni aud ver micelli, 8 cents j>or pound ; on prepara tions similar thereto, ft cento JHT ponnd; on uitro benxole or oil of mirbane, 10 cents per ponnd ; ou tin in plates or sheets ami on terne ami taggers tin, li cents per pound ; on anchovies and sar i dines, 15 cents per IKJX, 7} cents per half box, and 4 cents per quarter box, ami when imported in any other form, (50 per cent, ml valorem ; yellow sheath ing metal and yellow metal bolts, of which the oompouent part of the chief value is copper, shall be deemed manu factures of eopper, ami pay the duty j now prescribed for such, but a draw hack is to be allowed for such metal used in the construction, repair, or 1 equipment of vessels built in the United States for the foreign trade between the Atlantic and Pacific. The duty on raoisie iron is to bo the ' same as ou all other species of iron of like condition, grade or stage of manu facture. Jute butt* are to pay P'> per ton, and machinery for manufactures from the same plant, except such as is now made 1 iu this country, is to bo admitted free of duty for two years. The following articles are put on the free list : Alizarine, peas for seed pur poses, quicksilver, ship planking and handle bolts, spurs and stilts used in the manuiscture of earthem, stone or crockery ware, and seed of the sugar bet. I'he fourteen last sections of the bill have reference to internal revenue matters. One of them allows any farmer or planter to sell at the place of pro duction tobacco of his own growth and raising at retail directly to consumers to an amount not exceeding SIUO an nusliv. Hank cheeks, drafts, orders, or vouch ers for the payment of anv sum of money drawn upon any bank, banker, or trust company pay a tax of two cents. Nothing contained in the present laws , ia to be construed to authorize the itn positiou of a stamp tax on medical arti cles prepared in accordance with a for mula published in any standard dis peusatory or pharmacopeia. The New Party. A new partv movement is under way in the I'lilted States, but thus far has been confined to the West. The plat form runs somewhat a* follows : (1.) A call for a constitutional con vention to effect several changes in the fundamental laws of the I'nited States, among which will le the election of President, Vice-President, and Senators directly by the j>eople ; subordinating all rorporatsons to the National Gov ernment; disallowing special privileges to anv corporation ; adding largely to the authority of the General Govern ment in matter* affecting the transj>ort*- tiou and trades of the country ; and making such banking provisions as will allow the General Government to in stitute banks under its own authority. ('J.) An immediate agitation for com mitting Congress and the nation at once to the carrying out of the scheme of the five great artificial water routes rec ommended by the Transportation Com mittee of the Senate—that is. the open ing of the mouths of the Mississippi, the connection of the Mississippi with the lake*, the ship canal around Ni agara, the enlargement of the Krie ('anal, and the joining of the James Hirer with the waters of Ohio by a canal. (3.) The construction of at least two direct freight railways tinder the au thority of the General Government, so as to regulate the charges of the main lines of the country. With regard to the currency question the majority of those who attend are in favor of nidation ; but as yet it is not made a cardinal doctrine of the new party. They will await tho course of events. Catching Mackerel, Mackerel are very numerous along the Atlantic coast, and nre caught by tldiing amaeks in great numbet* from Ca|>e May to Cape Cad. These fish were nntil late years caught with a small hook, but as llshing became more extensive a new plan was discovered by which a great nnmlier conld be caught in less time than with the hook and line. It would take the fishermen, with hook nnd line, a long time to get a load to bring to market fresh, but now they often get enough in ono haul to load their vesael. The smaekmen have two flailing (mats and a large aeine-like net, about 200 fatlioma in length and eight in depth, with a large weight of 150 pounds called " Ola Tom," fastened to the' bottom rope about midway ef the net. They have pulleys connected with this weight and small rings fastened to the bottom rope about four feet apart. A long rope is passed through these rings and attached to the pulleys, so by pulling on this rope the men are able to draw up the bottom of the net like a bag. On approaching a school of mackerel the fishermen drop " Old T>m " overlioard, and then row around the fish aiul let ont the net so as to form a circle. After the fish have been closely gathered in the net tho captain comes alongside the net with the smack, and with a large scoop-not he, with the assist unco of the crew, hoists them on l)Oftl(l. The Kddjstonc Light-House. One of the throe or four most famous light-houses is the Edilyntono, off the coast of Devonshire. The first edifice constructed here was by Mr. Winstan ley, of Littlebury, near Lord lirng brooker's famous scat of Audley Inn, which the traveler sees m route from London to Cambridge, in Essex. Mr. Winstanley was a country gentleman much addicted to mechanics, aud his house was full of "cunning conceits." Yon sat down in an easy chair and were made a prisoner by its arms; yon sought the shade of un arbor aud found yourself floating in the pond. Mr. Winstanley contrived a fabric which lasted three years. lie went to visit his work one day, saying he wished that the fiercest storm which had ever blown would rise to test his structure. That evening came the storm, and structure and Winstanley were washed away by the waves. A very able amateur, a retired trades man named Rudyerd, next undertook the task, and very cleverly he executed it. His work stood fifty venrs, and was then destroyed by fire. Then came the wonderful work of Hmcaton, which stands to this hour. MA*KKI> IHTMiI.AUS AD UN. Tbty Hlul lli Mtlrhmru and lllow (l|itii a (>|J,IIVO HluUn. The of the Wt Point Foundry was robbed by masked burglars of some $3,500 in money and lunula. Oue of the watohmeu tell* tlie following atory of the affair : I ilrst went to the office and stayed in there until 12:*J5 o'clock. I theii went to an oven iu the mold iug-shop to warm my tea. A I waa m the lot of puttiug my tin eau down lefore the fire, three miu mode their sppearauoe outalde. Aa 1 came out of the building oue of them atepied up to my left aide, one of the others to the front of me, and the third one behind me, with a lantern iu hia hand. The flrot man aid to me, '• Are you firing up ?" I replied, " Yea." Tlien he ooid, " Where ia the old man t" 1 asked him, *' What old man 1" He aaid, " The one that watchea with you." I Raul I thought he waa in the office. The old lnau'a name ia Rodney Roe, a watchman the aaine aa myaelf. 1 aaid to them, " l>o you want him ?" Ha re plied, " I want you, aud you are my prisoner." Theu they seized me and walked me along to the molding-room, where they put my hands behind my back aud atrap|>cd them. Oue of the men then took a round hall out of his pocket aud crammed it into my meulh, and tied it around my neck with tarred strings, completely gagging me. They then set me down and atrap|ed my legs with new straps in two places, and also pinioned my arms aud tied mo to a iioavT caatiug. ami all three left. After I had been left alone fire or six minutes on* of them came back to aee how I was getting along. He asked me if I waa all right 1 could only mumble something. Ho then returned to his comrades who wereiu the office binding and gagging the old man. One of them came back to see how 1 was, aud left again quickly. Finally they came back and cut the* otr|k from mv legs aud ordered mo to stand up. Then they covered my head with a coat. I asked them as well aa I could, " Where are yon going with me f" One replied gruffly, " You'll know after a while." I was theu led out cf doors, and they walked me into the office to the safe vault, in which they put me, aud shut the iron door nearly to, leaving it open just far enough to give me a chance to breathe. I found lUxlney Roc, the other watchman, in there too. He waa also bound and gagged. We sat on the Tault floor facing each other. While we were iu the vault we heard the rob bers endeavoring to break opeu the safe on tlie opposite side of the room. The safe-vsnlt we were in waa used for keep ing books and patten in. The inner door is of iron ami the outer of wood. The safe they were breaking into ia six feet high. \\ e couldn't see the men st work, but could hear them. They were apparently hammering the safe with heavy hammers, and we could hear the clinking of cold chisels and the grating of levers, as though they were prying open the doors. Suddenly they opened the outer door of the vault we were in and called out to us to " keep back from the inner door, as there was going to be an explosion." Of course we kept back, and then tbey shut the outer door. We heard s very slight explosion soon after, when the outer door of the vault waa again opened, and we beard one of the burglars say to tlie other, " Where is the new fuse, the old fuse is good for nothing !" We knew theu that the first explosion was a failure. We oonld hear them charge the safe s second time, and very soon a heavy explosion followed, as though tho front part of the safe was blown out. We next heard them hand ling papers, tearing open envelopes, etc. They were not more than half an hour doing the Utter work when they again came to tlie door of the vault,and opeucd tlie outer one, and coming to the inner door, opened that one a little also, and peered in npon us. I mum bled to them that I felt faint, and they op<-Dcd the door wider. One of them took a sledge hammer and smashed in one of the wooden panels of the outer door, and that let tlie air come in more freely, hut he locked the door. All this time Mr. BM and myself weretryinglo get onr hands loose. Mr. Roe finally succeeding, he then loosened mine, but we did not dare to show tbst our bauds were free for fear they would kill us. Presently we heard them gather up some things and leave the office, and we could hear them hurrying awsy. 1 managed to squeetc through the broken panel of the outside door, and soon re leased Mr. Roe. Looking about the office we discovered that a large hole had been blown in the north door of the safe, and both doors were powder stained and wide open. Scattered about the floor were torn envelopes, pa pers, packages, etc.; also a crowbar, sledge hammer, two cold-chisels, fuse, tarred strar had visited the night previous. Here Medoe, s noted dog, found the trail, and the entire pack was soon in full cry. • After a rnn of more than an hour through the dense thickets sud amoug tho bluffs, the ln>ar broke cover toward the ojxui oountiy, with the dogs in hot pursuit. Here "the hunt grew very ex citing, the pursuers being frequently in full view of the chase, and using their guns whenever they could, and tho dogs (fox hounds) pressing the gnme closely, but as yet nusble to bring him to bsy. In fact, it was almost cer tain death for one to approach him, his formidable tusks proving such fearful and deadly weapons of defense that he had up to this time killed eight out right and wounded four. Finally, as he was crossing the Big Bone road, a powerful bulldog was let loose, and immediately attacked the furious beast. Then ensued a desper ate straggle. The boar fought as if he knew that hia life was in the balance, and the dog was equally game. The latter seised the maddened animal by the right fore shoulder, and in apite of stabs nnd gaahea from tho sharp tusks held on with the tenacity for which the breed is noted. The hunters coming up joined in the battle with pistols, clubs, and atones, and nnder the at tack of the eombiued forces the boar was at length Bt retched on the ground, oonqnered only in death. On examina tion it was found that dnring the chase he had received fonrteon shots, all in flicting aevere wounds. He weighed about five hundred pounds, and his tuska were eight inches in length by actual measurement. Tho chase lasted about four hours, aud a notable feature of the closing scene was the fact that though the dog was nearly torn to pieces and his an tagonist was covered with wounds, neither uttered a cry during tho fleroe death struggle, but both were grim, silent, relentless, and game to the very last, and not until the boar was dead could the dog be induced to release his hold. r lVrm: o'-i.OO a Year, in Advance. THE BLUE POI'LIX. " There I what s lovely thade I This la just the thing, Ids. Yon must have it, and Miss Rurliugame tossed the folds of blue poplin, pure Irish, every thread silk, up iu better view aa she spoke, " 1 can't afford it, Fanny. 1 linve only twenty five dollars in the world, slid that must go home to mother, for she needs it," was the quiet auswer of Ids Rosa, while her eyes, blue sa the silk, rested admiringly on the pieoe, which she longed to possess. " Nonsense I" cried Fanny ; " go in debt fer it till some of your music seholsra seud their money in. It needn't coat over fifty dollars." Oh, Fanny ! I couldn't go in debt for s party drees," said Ids. " N ousense !" repeated Miss Fanny. " Ladies do that every day ; and you know you'll have the money before long. Come, Ids, you know it ia my farewell part v, ami I particularly want you to wear the same color I do. This poplin ia just the shade of my blue satiu. Do get it to please me !" " How much ia it a yard ?" inquired Ida of the shopman. " You shall have it very cheap—only two dollars a yard—you don't often have such a chance tot a piece like that, madam." " Twenty-five yards—flftv dollars say nothing of trimmings/' was Ida's hasty calculation, aa alie half glanced ui> at a young man who stood near, and who suddenly turned his back upon them. " I ought not, I know, but it is ao pretty !" she went on. And aloud she said : " You ought not to tempt me ao, Fanny. I want it bad enough, dear kuows. llut I won't decide now. Keep it till to-morrow, plcaae, and 1 will oall again in the morning," she aaid to the clerk. " Ob, yon'll take it, I know," aaid Fanny, as the obliging clerk laid the goods aside, and the two young girls passed out. Aa they went, the young man who had turned his back upon them fared round, and looked after them with an odd expression on bis hand some face. But Ida little guessed that Maxwell Derwent was near, and had heard every word of her conversation with Fanny, or she would have fallen to the floor with mortification. " I wonder if she will buy the dress ?** he said to himself, as he followed the young ladies out. " I hope not. 1 could not respect s girl in her circum stances who could incurs debt like that for s party-dress. 1 hope she will not. If she does—" Maxwell Derwent com pressed his fine hps firmly and did not finish his sentence in words, but men tally he added— " then all is over with us, for I will not seek s wife who can be guilty of a dishonorable action." He sighed as he spoke, for he was more than interested in the pretty little music teacher. He had aeen a good deal of her lately, for, owing largely to Fanny Burlingame'a influence, Ida was received la the same society she had mured in before her father's death. And, thonghtlesa aa well as selfish though Fanny was, she was sincere, in her friendship for Ida. The evening for the farewell party given to Fancy bv her aunt, Mrs. Bur gess, arrived quickly. And in a thought ftil mood, Maxwell Derwent arrayed himM'lf for his appearance. "It will be a deep disappointment to me, if I see Miss Rosa in the blue dress," he soliloquised, fitting on hir gloves before he started. "For if I find she baa nobleness and firmness enough to resist this temptation, I will seek to win her. If she has not—well, sn extravagant, inconsiderate wife would soon rain a man with more money than I have, and I won't risk it Bet ter bear a little pain now than a great deal hereafter. Prevention is better than repentance. After all, though, it doesn't matter much." But it did matter much, for Maxwell Derwent's heart had never beaten so anxiously aa it best when he stood in Mrs. Burgess's elegant parlor, watching the ladies arrive. And it sunk like lead in his hi east, with one heavy throb, as Ida and Fanny Barlingame came in to gether. Yet Ida bad never looked so lovely as she did to-night Her fair cheek was flushed the hue of a pink sea-shell, her blue eyes lit with a happy light two or three soft curia straying from the gold en crown on her pretty head down over her white shoulders, and nothing eonld have been more lieooming to her blonde beauty than the lustrous blue folds which* fell around her slender figure, and trailed upon the rich earpet be neath her feet But nothing could make that blue poplin beautiful in Maxwell Derwent's eyes. " Fifty dollars for tbe pattern," thought* be, " and a good round sum for ail that lace and ribbon trimming, and another seventv-flve, I suppose, to the dressmaker. What a loaa of debt for a young girl to carry ! Poor foolish little thing I' He added the last words half pityingly, half soornfully, as he went up to address her, not caring to call remark upon himself by seeming to avoid her. But he could not make his manner seem otherwise than cold and con strained, and Ida soon felt it. She could not guess the cause, but the light went out of her eyes, and her smile was not so bright as when the happy even ing began. She was glad when Tom Burgess oame up and invited her to dance, giv ing her a chance to get away from Max well. He, poor fellow, had no heart for dancing. He turned a way—perhaps fate led him—and sought the shadow of a distant window curtain from whence he might watch Ihe dancers at his will. He stationed himself behind two matronly ladies, one of whom he did not know, and the other knew well, for it was his hostess and Fanny's aunt, Mrs. Burgess. He did not psy attention to their conversation until the strange lady said, "What a pretty girl Miss Ids Boss is!" " She is s noble girl; s true woman,' replied Mm Bargees. " Her drosß is very becoming. But one would hardly think she could afford to dress so elegantly," observed the other lady. "That very dress is one thing which shows her nobleness," said Mrs. Bnr geas. " How ? Yon interest me," said the lady. "Then I will tell yon the story,"said Mrs. Burgess ; and all unawares how interested was the listener who stood behind her, she went on : *' This is Fanny's farewoll party, before she goes South, yon know, anil she had set her heart on having her friend Ida wear a dress the name oolor as her own. She bought herself a blue satin, and wished Ids to purchase a beautiful blue Irish poplin which they saw. Ida knew she could not buy the dress without going into debt for it, but she was so much tempted that sho promised to call the next day and decide. She did go, by herself, aud told the clerk she would not take the dress. Then she came here and told Fanny. You know Fanny is a little heedless and a little selfish, some times, and she was so disappointed at not having Ida wear the blue dress that Bhe spoke very unkindly. Ida's feel ings, I saw, we're deeply wounded, but NO. 25. Abe only said, ' I will do anything I onn to please you, Fanur, but I cannot loan my self-respect, and I abould do ao if I went in debt for a ball dreea, which I do not really need. I will not do it. Ho plea an let me be aa happy aa I can in my old white drees.' I aaw the tears in her eyt e aa ehe apoke, and I quite appreciated the straggle the young girl had baen through. It happened that I had in my |M>ss**sion a piece of hand aome blue ailk which Dr. Burgess aent me while be ia in Waabingtoo. laat winter, not thinking that an elderly lady like me would appear ridiculous in audi a eolor. With a great deal of difficulty I persuaded Ida to accept it aa a gift from me—aha made it entirely heracif, and those beautiful trimmings she took from two other drnaans of her own, to put on this one. And the re ault ia what you see.'* " Indeed —" began the lady who lis tened ; but Maxwell Derwent waited to bear no more. Quickly making his way through the crowded rooms to where Ids was just leaving the group of dan cere, he offered her his arm, saying: " Mia* Roes, let me take yon into the garden. It ia oppressively warm in here." His tone was ao different from the one be had used early in the even ing that Ids looked op in momentary surprise, ss she acoepUd his offer. Pausing st the dressing-room door to find her shawl and throw it around her shoulders as protection from the 000 l night, they stepped ont into the beauti ful grounds lighted by the full summer moon. Maxwell lad the way tea nook where they were shielded from observation. Then he stopped, and said, gently : "Miss Ida, when I first met you this evening, I treated yon coldly. I want to ak your pardon for it now." "It is granted," said Ida, pleasantly. " Mav I know wherein I bad offended?" "if I may ask one question," return ed Maxwell, smiling down into ber up turned face, " Ask it," said Ida, gently. But instead of speaking. Maxwell stood perfectly quiet one moment. Then turning, with a quick impulse, he caught a fold of Ida's blue robe, and lifting it to his lips, kissed it tenderly. Bhe looked up st him in intense as tonishment. Without explaining his action, he drew her to him with one strong young arm, and aaid, almost solemnly: " Ids, I love yon. Will yon give yourself to me ?" Bhe gave him another searching glance. Face and voice were too grave stid earnest to admit of doubts or tri fling, even bad she been ao disposed. She only let her head drop again to his broad shoulder, and aaid, in alow, clear voioe : " Yea, if TOO will take me." " If I will!" Both passion and tri umph were in Maxwell Derwent'a voice u be clasped her doae to his bosom, and holding her closer, said, gently, " Till death do us part. Ids," "Till death do us part," softly and solemnly repeated Ida. A little later Maxwell told her his story. And at its close he kissed the blue robe once more, saying, " It has made me very miserable and eery happy, too." And if he kissed the wearer as well as the robe, I don't know who had a better right, I'm sure, for the blue pop lin and the blue-eyed girl who wore it were his own property, to be sure ! Effect f the Imagination. In as eoaay entitled "Notes on Qhosts and Goblins" in his recently published volume, " Tbe Borderland of Scienoe," Richard A. Proctor gives an instasoe of optical illusion experienced by himself, which aptly illustrates the w ay in which a belie! in the appearance of a ghost might originate in a super stitions age, or in any case where the person experiencing the illation hap pened to have weak nerves or feeble wits. Mr. Proctor's mother had died some months before the time of which he writes,-he was then a Cambridge student, and the scene of the occurrence was bis college- " I hud on one even ing been particularly, I may say un reasonably, low-spirited. I had sat brooding' for hours over dismal thoughts. These thoughts had follow ed me. to bed, and I went to sleep stall under their influence. I cannot re member my dreams—l did dream, and my dreams were melancholy—but al though I had a perfectly clear remem brance of their tenor on firut waking, tbev bad passed altogether frcm my recollection the next morning. It is to be noted, however, that I was under the influence of sorrowfol dreams when I awoke. At this time the light of a waning moon was shining into the room. I opened my eyes, and saw with out surprise or any conscious feeling of fear, mv mother standing at the foot of the beared to no. " Bark to tbo wall of ibo riw Aa it haatona on to the aoa!1 Wo walkod by tho alda of that rlawr. And 1 Uogfead at tho water's mote. For my dartlnff wna baadhi aw, And la hi# boart my hom. The mar grew wider ted stronger Aa it flowad witb te nnarhai moon. And my kirn ergon d error ifcs watov. And loft aio—forlorn—ekwe I will follow that mar sadly Tbrongb tbo oiflßn of fwary year# Till I gain tlw far-off ocean, Witb bitter blinding toora. For 1 know that when tho rfror la boated op tbo aoa'a Mae tldo, I aball aooaay loot Urra wuting For bm by .bo ooaan'a at4a. And ao I burton oneArd Witb fooblo failing braotb, Dinging to moot tbo ocean, For tbo ooaan'a ndtoc ia Death I Items of lateral. The quickest way tot a afißi to frtrget all common miseries hi to >ear tight boots. In Hsu Antonio, Texas, there tee 1.000 Americana, 4,000 Mexumns, ana 2,(M> negroes. To prevent fish from smelling ia summer, cut their nowa off, This will do as welt in winter. The young man who exclaimed, " Give me but her," was steed if oleo margarine wotfldn t answer. Choose your summer roema or real deuce open to the south- Birds iusifft on their houses fronting that way. In England large stuns are approtjfk atod for the maintenance of ruins. Tha seme soma would probably repair them. Of a daily average of fifty-eight and a half tons of matter sent from New York over forty-nine tons are newspapers, magazines, pbampleta. books, and tran sient printed matter. In " ballast" are the sxgjgeative words of a large number of veteeh arriving almost daily from the porta ol the Ola World, showing that budtoesa ia dull there aa well a here. It has been said that every man comforts himself witb the assurance that there are two things be can accomplish when ever he feela inclined—give op the use of tobacco and learn French. Borne of the generals and other offi cers engaged in the Arkansas war thin* they should be allowed to retire on half pey, instead of being unceri tconiotefy compelled to earn a living by vendia peanut* and candy. A poor widow in Fsraington, Minn., lost her house by fire, and tmfcre tfie . ashes were cold the villagers had fawgug to frame another and a better house for ber. Bach things make one feel proud of humanity. The Indiana judges stand no ucj>- sense from the bar. Als wyes ti-rw lately in the oonrse of his argxu-.''i.t used the word "disparagement.** "Stop uisng Latin worda," said