The Cone that Rleaaca. Lord ! what a burr, restless thing Haat thou mad* man! Each da* and hour h* i* on wtvg. RMtarnt a •) an. Then having lo*t the *ui and light, By elond surprise,!. H* keep* a comrasrce in the night With air dhguiatiL Rad'et thou given to Hi* active reel A elate unit red The loet eon had not left the huek Nor home desired. That era* thy eecret. and it ie Thy merey too; for when all fail* to bring to bliee Then they in net do. Ah Lord! and what • parahaa* that will be Te take n* eick. that eound would not take the* ' booking ltaek. 1 may live long, but some old day* Of dear, deep Joy akin to pain- Homo ami* that eel 011 woodland ways Will never rise for me again; By shining era, and glad, green alien* That frolic waves ran home to kit a. Some words I heard that nevermore Will thtill me with their noetic bits*. O love' still throbs your living heart You have not eroeeed death's sullen tide A deeper deep holds us ap*rt. We were more near if you had died If vrni bad die.l iu those old days When light was on the shining sea, And all the fragrant woodland ways Ware paths of ho}>* for you and me. Bead leave* are in tlie woodland ways- Cold are the need to kuw>, Twere idle to wall those day*. Or sigh for all that vanished hits*' Do y*wi still wear your old-time gxaee. And ehatm new love* with ancient wile* ? Oonld 1 but watch your faehlest face, I'd know the meaning of your smiles. UAPTAIN LUMPS TREASURE. Old Johnson Mower was a surly, dis contented fellow, who thirty rears ago kept A little inn on one of the highways near the oonth coast of Loug Island, "it was A poor place enough, with the honse and all shout it run to dilapida tion and decay: and avers scanty living did Johnson get by the keeping of this tavern, with the poor entertainment that he furnished to man and beast. But the place was well suited to its tenant, whose life had been dreamed away with impracticable schemes for money gettiug, and who had come here in his last rears, partly because it was the only chance that opened to him, but particularly to prosecute the busi ness of money digging. He had lately read several accounts of the life anil doings of Capt.un Kidd, and he had been impressed with the fact that these narratives, while differing widely ou other points, substantially agreed ou these—that Kidd's treasure, or thebnlk of it, was buried somewhere abont the waters of X*w York, and that it hail never been nnearthed. From the mo ment that his mind was directed to this subject he became a secret enthusiast about it. He pondered upon it, dreamed over it, and had no heart or inclination for anything else. He con vinced himself without much trouble that all his ill-lack iu life was now to be recompensed by such a stroke of good fortune as would make him a mil lionaire. He believed former nnsnc oeesfnl searchers after this treasure had not gone systematically to work, as he meant to do, and certainly had not looked in the right places. For numer ous reasons perfectly satisfactory to himself, he believeif that the sonth shore of Long Island, qnite near the city, was the depository where the free booter's wealth had lain undisturbed for two centuries ; snd with his mind convinced in advance, it is not singular that he dreamed of that locality three nights in succession. That was quite enough to determine him, if he had lacked the resolution before. He suc ceeded in getting the worthless old honse where we find him, living at a nominal rent, and by the pretense of keeping an inn, which those who put trust in him found anything but a re ality, he managed to keep soul and body together, while he secretly prose cuted his anxious exploration for the buried treasure. He had few neigh bors ; the old house was in a lonely, unattract.ve spot; and those who knew anything about him or saw anything of him never imagined that the poor old object, who slept and nodded most of the day in the suu, on a bench in front of the house, waa devoting the whole night and every night to solitary prowl ings about the beach and through the woods wiili a spade, digging here and there as his fancy or his dreams direct ed him, and constantly nerved up to the performance of this hard, physical toil by the hope of finding immense riches." Bat no success lisd thus far rewarded the old man's efforts. The summer had passed, and September was fast lapsing, and not a copper, nor a coin or an arti cle of any valne, had he turned npwith his busy spade. His labor had been so constant and so severe for three months that it told heavily on him; he hail contracted a troublesome cough by continual exposure to the night air, anil his rheumatism was aggravated by it. Still be did not think of giving up ; certainly not before the frost and snow had locked np the earth so that it wonld be impossible for him to dig. He nourished his enthusiasm, and perse vered with astonishing ardor in his night explorations. It was at twilight of one night toward the last of September, that, as old sat on the bench, impatiently waiting for darkness, two men walked down the road toward the house, and paused. They seemed to be consulting together; but after a moment they slowly approached the old man, as he sat there alone. " Good evening, sir," said one. "Can you give us something to eat?" "You'll pay, won't you ?" asked Johnann. " Oh, ertainJy, I didn't mean that yon were to give us a meal. I guess we're able to nay—hey, Jack ?" " I reckon,'.replied his companion, ; ; his pocket and causing a pleasata ohiiiking of coin. " What have you got?" "Oh, I can give you some bread and cheese—or crackers and cheese, if you choose—and some sweet cider. Step right in here, gentlemenand the shabby old landlord bustled about with vast airs of importance. The strangers looked at each other, smiled, laughed, and shook their sides with merriment. " Champagne and pheasants last night, and cider and cheese to-night !" one of them exclaimed. " How's that, George ?" " Pretty rich," was the langhing re ply. " Never mind, yon know we're on business to-night, and only want some thing to stay hunger, without mnch re gard for quality. Fetch on yonr cheese and fixings, Uncle Jacob, and we'll keep some of it from spoiling." Johnson set out the rickety table in the room within, that answered for dining room and parlor, thongh looking little enough like either, and then placed his humble victuals upon it, grnmbling all the time at the insolence of his gnests, which he thought it best not to resent openly. He had observed them closely during his conversation, and saw that they were city men, rather yonng, with immense black mustaches, stylish clothes, and showy rings and breastpins. When the host announced the repast as ready, one of them said : " Well, we'll attend.to it. We sha'n't want you for a few minutes." Johnson conld not misunderstand so broad a hint, and accordingly withdrew, but not very far. These were gnests of a very nnnsnal kind, and seemed to have plenty of money. They were evi dently from New York ; and what busi ness could they have in this unfre quented place ? The old man's occu pation had made him sly and watchful, and his curiosity was so mnch excited by the appearance of this party that he resolved to watch them, and try to find out their business. So closing the door after him he walked into the next room K.HKIX KUHTZ. I Alitor nml 1 V >priotor. VOL. A 11. with some noise and thon tip-toed si lontlv back and listened. The strangers worn evidently hungry, for by tin* sounds that ho hoard ito judge*l that they aore making short w.r and the easing, and- -could he believe it ? The word •' jewels " was plaiuly spoken by one of them, and tiieu he heard something about " money,"and he was quite sure the word " hidden " was al-o Ban), It was impossible to tell iu what connection the words were sjtokeu, but he had certainly heard them, sweet, siguifieaut words as tliev were to him. The old man was eleotrilled, ilucsses and suspicions of the nature of the •' business" that had brought these men here flashed upon him, and hints of the true interpretation to be given to some remarkable and pux rliug dreams that had lately troubled his slumbers on the bench were not wanting iu that moment. He continued to listen intently, but he heard nothing more of this nature, and hearing a noise withiu that indicated the risiug of his guests from the table, he hurried away to avoid discovery. One of the men came out and re quested him to come into the room with them for a moment. He complied, and the door was promptly shut be hind him. " Pretty good provender this for hun gry men. after all, Uncle Jacob," smJ oue of the men, leaning over on the table, with his hat in his hand. "Take that" He threw down a coin on the table, and it rang most musically in Johnson's ears. Raug? yes, and glittered, too. He snatched it up and found it a five dollar gold piece. " Xo mi-take, my jolly old cove," said the man, observing the landlord's look of wonder. " Keep it all ; we'll show yon away to get more, if you'll give ns a little help. I say," and he spoke qnite low, and bent his head nearer ; " have you pot such a thing as a spade about here, Uncle Jacob ?" A spade ! The words thrilled through Johnson Mower like a charge of elec tricity. He was certain now what were the objects of his guests. " Yes," he answered, with a grum bling voice and an unwilling manner ; " but I don't lend it, because I've only got one, and " "Oh, bother that!" interrupted the man, impatiently "Do you sec this ?" He held np a gold eagle to the old man, and the latter looked at it wist fully. " Xow, I propose to bay your spade, < and give you that for it. " "It's a bargain !" cried Mower. "I'll bring it right in." " Don't tinrry; take it cool," said the other, throwing him the coin. " This ain't all. Can von make mnm, old fellow, and not blab? 1 mean when it's made an object for you to hold your tongue. " Yes, yes, yes," cried Mower, trem bling all over "with excitement. " Well—don't get nervous; I haven't told yon anything yet, and shan't tell yon much. " Here's all we want of vou : never to tell anybody that we've been here. We're going to qnit yon in two minutes, and you're not to follow us, or watch where we go. Yon may have strange men abont here iu a day or two, trying to find out if we've fieen here. You >1 a't know us, mind! you never saw any stub chaps as they'll tell yon of ; yon're sure there's been no such coves here all summer. That's your cue, remember. Xow that's easy enough ; can you make twenty dollars any easier ?" " 111 do it! I'll do it!" Mower ex claimed, with alacrity. " I'll be as secret as the grave." "You'll tell nobody?" "Xo, not a soul; on my honor, no!" The shining double eagle that the man held tempting forth in his fingers waa transferred to the pocket of Mow er, and the three went out of the honse. The spade was produced ; and with s parting injunction to the host to re member bis promise,the gnestsplunged into the darkness. The old man could not see them ; but he distinctly heard them climbing the fence on the further side of the road. " They re bound for Xorman's Woods —I know it!" he chuckled ; and with out a moment's hesitation he stealthily followed. Gnided by the faint sound of their feet in advance, he skulked along, stop ping whenever the cessation of the sound indicated that they had paused to see if they were followed. The way led across a wide meadow to a thick wood, and when Mower heard the crack ling of leaves under their feet as they entered the wood, he took extraordin ary precautions against disoovery. He lay flat down on the ground, and work ed himself painfnlly along, Berpentwise, still gnided by the sound, until they had penetrated some distance into the wood, when they paused. There was a subdued flicker of light, which instant- | ly disappeared ; and aatiafied that they had reached the scene of their project ed operations, the watcher worked him self forward until he was not more than a rod off. There, lying prone to the ground, and peering around the trnnk of an enormous oak that completely hid him, he eagerly watched and listened. The two had paused at, the foot of n great rock that rose in an irregular ledge of abont five feet in height. It formed at this place a retreating angle of perhaps four feet in width. One of the men held a dark lantern, and by its aid they were thoroughly examining the place. Tkeir talk was very low, al most in whispers ; but a word now and then reached the wide open ears of the spy. The following is the snbatanec of what he heard : " here " " should think " " Yes angle of rock " " you see. Due north from—" "Of coarse, always find it." The spade was now pnt in requisi tion ; and for the next hour the two took turns, one watching against sur- Brine, and often standing BO near to tower that the latter drew bin breath slowly and painfully, for fear of detec tion, (which be expected wonld certain ly result in bin instant death), while the other dug and delved at the outer part of the angle, the lantern being placed within it no that its light was well hid den. The ground was hard ami atony, and the occasional striking of the spade on the rock was billowed by a muttered curse on the noise. At length after both had labored steadily for at least an hour, the labor was suspended, and both men knelt over the hole they had made. Their backs were toward Mow er, and he could not see what they were doing, though he would have given a leg to have been lying on the ledge over their heads, that lie might look straight down upon their operations. As it was, he could only lie perfectly still, and await their movements. They remained crouched over the hole some time, when they rose and carefully filled it up, smoothed it over, and then scattered leaves on the earth to hide the traces of their work. One of them took the spade and pushed it out of sight into the angle, where there was certainly no fear of any person looking for hidden articles; and then both of them turned and walked swift ly away. They did not return to the THE CENTRE REPORTER. tavern ; had they done ao, the a 1 >*olloo of Johuaou must have excited their BUS pioioua, and tins short history would iimtwhlr have had a more tragical tor tniuatiou. Their course was toward the nnareat railroad station, and lefore day light they wore two hundred tuilea awav. The heart of Johnson Mower gave a great bound AH the straugerx turned awav, ami he saw that neither of tlieui earned auything in their hands except the dark lantern. *• They haven't takeu it away," was his thought, " except perhaps some in their pocket*. They only came t<> see if 'twas safe, and get a little of it." He lay there for two hours, afraid to stir for "the thought that the weu might be watching close by to assure tliem selvrs that uo one had witnessed their nootural visit lay there, gloating iu the prospect of the wealth that he was about to unearth, and never troubled by any question of title. " It's no more theirs than mine, if they don't appropriate it," was his re flection. " Knld buried it there for the mati that could first get it and take it away, and if they're fools enough not to keep it wheu they once get it, that's their own look out." The night passed on ; nothing waa astir, and nothing was heard save the insect noises of the wood. It must have been near midnight when the old man stole from liia concealment, and, draw ing forth the spade, scraped away the leaves, and began to remove the earth. He labored at great disadvantage, for ho could not set' what progress lie made, or if he dug directly iu the spot which had just lawn excavated. But he persevered, and in time he heard the spade strike a nieta'ic substance. He freed it from dirt, anil removing it from the hole, fouud it to be a amall tin box, covered with canvas. His excitement was now so great that he resolved not to investigate further that night, but to return home, examine his prize, and, returning lmfore day light, to finish the ( lamination and re move all traces of it. He hurried back to the old honse, locked himself in the room where he had held his interview with the men, and tearing off the canvas, he found the lid of the box confined by a padlock. He procured a hammer and broke the lock, so that thehd could be lifted; and within it his eager eyes saw a package wrapped in oilcloth. His trembling tin gem tore off this wrapping, and others that were underneath, when a velvet ease was disposed. He opened it —and there was the treasure ! Aye! there it was 1 Gold crosses, , gold chains, gold rings, gold orna ments, heavy and solid, of rare and leantifnl workmanship, and of a value that he could easily estimate at thou sands. But on the otL< r side of the case ! ah ! there was the real prize ! Ptarl necklaces, heavy seal rings, set with J precious stones, whose names he did not know, and slender rings blazing wilh diamonds; breastpins, charms, lockets, Imttous, all flashing with ru bies and amethysts, and garnets, and what else he knew not ! Here, indeed, were thousands of dol lars iu value ! lie ch sed the great case, aud clasping it to his heart, danced about the room, chuckliug to himself in i the overflow of his joy. " Captain Kidd's treasure ! Captain Kidd's treasure! Xo, no! Johnson Mower's treasure! Johnson Mower's treasure 1" He conld not sleep a wink that night. He did not attempt to sleep. He walked about the room, or sat restlessly on a stool, hugging the jewel-case to his heart, forming golden plans for the fu ture, and whispering to himself: " Johnson's treasure !" | He was back again promptly before daylight to continue his search at the rock ; bnt he fonud nothing more. The hole had evidently Wen dug no furth er ; and, somewhat disappointed that there was no mouey, bnt still exulting it. bis great discovery, he filled tip the cavity, replaced the leaves, and took the spade home. "A profitable spade, Johnson!" he chuckled. " m keep it till the owners call for it." The poor infatnateff man did not wait long enough to take any nourish ' meut ; before sunrise he was on the 1 road to the ferry, and by ten o'clock he was walking up Broadway, jostled by the pouring crowd of all nations, ages, ; and conditions that throng that mighty thoroughfare, pressing his hand ov r his breast, where lie had concealed th i jewel-ease inside his coat, and witli tie other hand tight shut on a diamond i ring in his pocket which be had taken from the case to sell. Reaching a large it > where a bril liant display of jewelry was made be hind the great plate-glass windows, he entered, and producing the ring to a | man behind the counter, whose keen business aspect was much clouded just j then by a look of trouble he asked: " Sir, what will yon give me in money for this ring?" " \Ye don't buy," the salesman bc , gan ; bnt catching a glimpse of the i offered ring he tnrned, vaulted over | the counter, and caught poor old John | son firmly by the collar with both : bands. " Guard the doors, hoys—mil for the police—help, help!" he vociferated ; and three of the clerks came running to his aid, followed in a few moments by i two policemen. " Search the old scoundrel!" cried the salesman. "Ho just offered for sale oue of the rings that waa iu the case that those thieves snatched out of my hand here yesterday afternoon. Johnson was searched, and the case was quickly found, with nothing mis sing bnt the ring that he held in his hand. The salesman fairly danced with joy at this unexpected recaption, nnd Johnson was dragged off to jail, strag gling and fiercely demanding that his jewels lie retnmed to him. He was tried and convicted a few weeks after for receiving stolen property, knowing it to be stolen, no had no lawyer, and was defended as well as the tremendous case made out against him would admit, by counsel assigned by the court. lie was promptly convicted by the jury without leaving t... ir scab; and when asked by the presiding judge before sentence wliat ho had to say for himself, the old man rose, and with his voice trembling with grief, and weak ness from confinement, solemnly stated the real facts of the case, as t hey are substantially narrated in the foregoing paragraphs. His forlorn appearance, and the conscious innocence of his speech, created a feeling in his favor ; but when he seriously asserted that he had not the least donbt in the world that the jewels in qneation were a part of Kidd's buried treasure, and that he thought he was rightfully entith d to n great part of them, a broad smile per vaded the whole court-room. " Sir," said the judge, " any advice would be wasted on you after this. The man who gcta ten thousand dol lars' worth of jewels into his possession in the manner in which yon claim to have come by them, and then act us you have acted, is necessarily either a great knave or a great fool. lu either case, there is no legal excuse. I regret to find a man of your years the confeder ate of thieves and robbers." And then be sentenced him to five years in the State prison. CENTRE MALE. CENTRE CO.. l'A.. THURSDAY, JI'LY 2, 1874. Thin judge wu a humane and txu scisntious man ; mul there were some things in the connection of old Mower with this strange affair that still (HiU 14 not reconcile with the idea of his guilt. In calmly thiuki< git over ufter ward, he admitted to himself that u|x>ii the theory that the old man was a crazy enthusiast on the subject of buried treasure, his story might bo entirely true. The matter troubled him profoundly; and when, a year later, the two men who hail committed the bold robbery in the jewelry store were arrested in a distant State, and brought before him for trial, he determined to find out the truth, if possible, as to the guilt of the old man. These men saw that they were cer tain to be convicted, and accordingly pleaded guilty. The judge told them that if they would truly state how they disposed of the jewels, they might ex pect as light a sentence us the law would allow, which would still be heavy enough to deprive the communi ty of their society for some years. They hesitated at tlrst, but learning that the jewels had tiecn recovered, they con cluded to tell the truth ; and their statements, t soli tieing examined sep arately and apart from the other, tallied so exactly with that of Mower that the judge could no longer doubt the inno cence of the latter. He therefore sent a brief statement of the case to the gov ernor, with a request that Johnson Mower be pardoned ; and this was im mediately done. Poor old Johnson ! Before this sol of justice was done him he had beooms a harmless, babbling find, always wan dering in his mind, and fauoiiug him self pi-iwocuting his midnight seorohei on the shore of ljong Island. The warden of the prison was too humane a man to east him on the world in this condition ; and he found light and easy occupation for him about his grounds, aud had him taken care of during the few remaining years of his life. The old man's mental condition never changed ; his hallucination made him quite happy, and he died fully jH>sseas ed with the belief that he had avowed on his trial. Lest the reader should fancy that the tittle of this sketch is a misnomer. I will close it by declaring that it is a truthful history of the most successful attempt iu more than one hundred years to discover Captain Kidd's treas ure. " Taking ( old." Of all the erroneous notions pertaiu ing to the preservation of health, lit one is fraught with more mischief thau that about taking o-ld. According to the popular, and, I may also say to some extent, professional view, taking cold is the greatest disease and death producer in the world. Fully eighty |>er cent, of those who consult physi cians premise by saying, they have taken cold. If a relapse occur* during convalescence, ten to one the blame is laid on the action of cold. "Mr pain is greater, I roust have taken cold ; my cough is worse, I roust have taken cold ; I do not feel as wi il this morn ing, I thiuk I have taken cold, but i don't see how," are expressions which the physician hears a do ten tinu a day. The latter is thereby often led to the reflection thst if it were not for desth-dealing colds he would have btil little to do, and convalescence would seldom be interrupted. Hut if the physician takes the trouble to think a little more upon this subject, he will be convinced that to his own craft is due tins stereotyped and never ending complaint of las [wheats about taking cold. The sick and their friends nearly always take their cue abont disea-e and its canaes from the trusti-d family doctor; and he accounts very ofteu indeed for an aggravation of the symptoms of those under his charge (the cause of which aggravation bv the way, may be, and often is, very difficult to detect) by the easy and satisfying explanation of having taken cold. Iu tins way he gets over the trouble of at tempting to make plain to tiututored minds what is often a puzzle to the most trained intellect, and at the same time shifts the responsibility for the re lapse on the uncomplaining and much abused weather. 80 it is that men and women have been led to regard climatic changes as the greatest enemy to their health ; if it were not fur them, their health would be next to perfect from the beginning to the end of the year. Thousands of consumptives, especially in the first and second stages of the dis ease, are firmly of the opinion that if theyoonld only escape the malign in lluenee of one cold after another, their recovery would be assured. To this end precautions of the most thorough character are scrupulously observed, and yet cold after cold is taken ; the patient, mother, or nurse kuoWB not how. Chinese Marriages. A Denver Justice last week perform ed the ceremony of marriage between the first and second Chinese couples ever so united in Colorado Territory. The Denver HorW gives great promi nence to tho afiair, and says that after the ceremony was completed the Jus tice informed the small but select au dience present that the newly wedded pairs were open to congratulations and magnanimously waived his acknowl edged prerogative of first saluting the blushing brides in favor of any one then present who might consider it nn object. None seeming disposed to avail themselves of the opportunity offered, tho happy couples were conducted to n carriage iu waiting and drove off on their bridal tour. The World adds that the marriage of these ('hinese in Colo rado is of considerable importance for the reason that there are powerful in fluences at work to prevent sncli mar riages. Two wealthy Chinese compa nies, with headquarters in Han Francis co, with branches in Colorado, do an extensive and profitable business in what is really the slaveholding line. They furnish passage to men and wo men from China and obtain absolute control over them, obliging the poor creatures to toil ni> to the utmost limit of their strength for barelv enough to keep the breath of life in their bodies. But the men can generally ransom them selves in a few years, pay their passage money, etc., and if tlioy marry will get their wives out of bondage as" soon as possible. Hence sneli marriages oper ate directly aguinst the interests of the company, for tho women seldom o never by their own efforts get out of bebt, and the companies bring them here with the exjiectation of their re maining slaves for life. Tho World charges that the masters of these unfor tunate women renlize a large revenue from them through tho most infamous means. ASTONISHING.— Few persons are nware of the time, talent, anl expense neces sary to develop aud perfect an invention. The new Wheeler Si Wilson No. fl Sew ing Machine, advertised in onr columns, has already cost that Company over SIOO,OOO, and to bring it well before the public will require 8200,000 more. It costs as much to design, construct and introduce a perfect sewing machine as to launch a first-class ocean steam ship. It is suggested in an English paper that smoking be allowed during divine service, "as a means of increasing the attendance at church," Till! HEAR OLD HOIWE. I was looking one day at a print of u countryman selling a home, which was hung up in the cafe of a small aubcrge where I was seated in company with an intelligent young man, who said to me, "That print reminds me of the inter esting story connected with it it hap pened at a "fair in this place a few years ago." I pressed liiui to relate it to me, and ordered in a bottle of the best Bor deaux in the house, to show my sense of his courtesy. One gloomy autumn evening, two per sons were seated, silent and sad, before an immense heurth, the fire gradually becoming extinct ; a pale and unoertain light was in the room ; an instanta neous brighter light st times reflected on those countenances ; they gliiuoed from one to the other, snd during those momentary coruscations one would have said, looking at them, that two spectres had come there to warm their limbs, chilled by the icy coldness of the 1 tomb. A clock sounded the man started, then sighed heavily. He was a man in the prime of life ; with manly features, stalwart frame, and an ardent, search i ing eve. " Catherine," said he, with an effort, after ho had regarded liis wife's suffer ing countenance a few seeouds. "It is time—it is the Angola*." She started iu her turn. " Eh ! what, already ?" said she. And l>oth again relapsed into that si lent thoughtfulnesa. The nrighiug of a horse was heard. The woman gave a convulsive movement, sighed heavily, and placed her handkerchief before her eyes. "Poor llretonne 1" said she, and burst iuto tear*. "Poor Bretonne 1 we must separate, and uever see her more 1" •• Ye*," said the man, in a mournful tone, " to-morrow she will have another master, and even now she does not lie long to me. Pierre Marcel, whom heaven coufonnd, is there waiting for i her. Hated Norman! Poor beast, after having done me so much service, and escaped the jH-rtls of twenty cam paigns, you are to become the property of that Norman horse dealer." " No, bv Heaven ! he shall not have thee yet,'' aaid he, sorrowfully, to his wife ; " what am Itodo ? I must pay him. I believe in my soul that the old sorcerer lias cast a spell Ter me 1 Out of the eight fine horses that 1 bought from the last fair, six are dead of the epidemic ; I was compelled to sell the other two at less thsn I gsve for them, to meet my engagemeuta. Poor Bre tonne slone remains to pay my debt to the old miser, who laughs at my feel ings. Oh, I hate him !" The man put on his large felt hat, lighted his pipe, and proceeded to the stable. The mare, at the sight of her master, neighed, and turned round as if to ca ress him. He saddled her l'n silence, tied a knot of straw to her tail, atul putting on the bridle, led her out of the stable, endeavoring to move off without being noticed ; but his wife snd children were at the dor; they wept over the poor beast, which seemed to recognizeand return their fondnesses. The father, with his hand resting on her gisne, silently contemplated the touching scene. In a moment he ex claimed, " Away, children, lie off !" and j mounted the mare, and like a man wl.oi had suddenly taken a desperate resolu tion, set off st a gallop. He came to the high road, when a long atriug of lioraca passed, led by Pierre Marcel, who, when he perceived the other unhappy horse-dealer, said, in a mocking tone. " fla, Jerome has brought roe the old Bretonne, tosquate our account*." " No, old roblwr, I would rather give her for nothing to some other person." " Very well, then, thou hast brought me thiue own body ; for I have a wr raut against thee, and the mare or thy ■ elf thi* day I am determined to have." " Neither one nor the other, I hope," and Jerome passed theold horse-dealer, w! o chuckled and cracked his whip m st maliciously. Horses arrived at the fair in great nunilwrs. Jerome stood at the head of i his msre, awaiting the inspection of the knowing looking buyer* who passed between the rows of borse# that were drawn up in close array ; but ail pass ed old Bretonne with indifference ; for the poor beost had a dull eye, and al- [ together A very nnprepoaseaeing ap pearance. Home few o|>ened her month, but on examiuing hct age, passed on. The dav advanced, and the fair Ix-gan to be leas crowded; anxiety, impa tience, and despair were successively depicted on Jerome's face. With his eyes bent down, and his arms folded, he thought of his unhappy family. When he raised his head, he saw Pierre Marcel standing before him, with a smile of diabolical expression. " Ah, ah 1" said he, "it seems there are not many connoisseurs in horse flesh here to-day, and the mare has n prospect of belonging ti me." " Not yet," said Jerome, in a mourn ful voice"; "it is still an hour before sunset." "Very well," retorted Pierre, "I will return, and I know an amateur who will make thee sell her." " Who, then ?" demanded Jerome. " Parbien !" aaid rierre, " a bailiff! With him one ia sure not to fail in find ing a ready purchaser." Jerome, in an agony of rage, struck the ground with the end of his whip, i " Gently, Master Jerome, gentlv," replied the matignant Pierre. " I will 1 return in half an hour, when I shall , expect the mare or m.v money, or, if thou likest better, thyself." Jerome tried different parts of the fair, but lie spoke tolhc dealers in vain; some offered him the amount of hia j debt to Pierre, others ltxiked at the mare, ahrngged their shoulders, and mnde no offer at al). Ho returned to hia station snd and melancholy ; a man was standing lie fore him ; it was again tho Norman | horse-denier, with his sardonic smile. " Well, Jerome," said the old man. ! " can we now deal ? The hour ia near." " It must be so," said Jerome, with much of the fiend in his manner. " Come, corns !" snid Pierre, " I am not so had as thou thinkest mo. The animal in good, though rather old ; she ; has l>oen valuable in her day." " Parbleu! tho best trotter in tho country, and the pearl of ttie regiment." " Yon, yes," said Pierre ; " that was her character fifteen years ago ; since then it is somewhat changed. Come, | Jerome | thou owest ten lonis—l will i give tliee twelve. Is the beast mine ?" "Twelve louis ! My poor niare I" | said Jerome; " must I sell her for twelve lonis? The mare that carried me through all my campaigns, and has never belonged to another man ! Twelve lonis I" said Jerome, again striking his forehead. "Not a penny' mote —but wo will have a drink together. Come !" and the old jockey held out his dry, wrinkled hand. "Twelve lonis!" repeated Jerome, with a mournful sigh. " Not a sou more," aaid rierre; " decide at onoe whether I must order the auctioneer to sell her or not." "Weill"—and the soldier made an effort to look unconcerned—* 1 poor beast!" said he—and he carressed Bre tonne—" are we to separate thus V* " Come, come, Jerome I" %iid Pierre; " li> not weep ; if Utott preferreat thy mare to thy family, keep her ; I will take thy cottage." Jerome turned toward Pierre, looked at him scornfully, and raised hia hand. •' Strike I" said the other, with a ban tering air. The arm was balanced in the air, and ready to fall; it stopped short. *' Twelve louis ; pour beast !" re peated he, in a muttering voice. •' So more," said Pierre, with the greatest sattyfnjUt. He waasbout to accept the offer, when a manly voice called out, " 1 will give fifteen for her." Jerome and Pierre looked up. A gentleman stood near them ; hi* black cravat, blue riding-coat, with a red rib IMIU attached to the button-hole, told that he wus a soldier. " Fifteen !" exclaimed Pierre, but no longer smiling. "Yea. fifteen," repeated the gentle man with the red riblioa ; " is it too much for the charger of an old soldier, who ha* seen service ?" " What! my cspt—commandant!" stammered Jerome, touching his hat ; "you know Bretonne?" "And her rider, Jerome Kerlce, of the Fifth Chasseurs," said the gentle man. "Ah ! what I" added he, iu a grave tone. " thou, thinkest, then, to part from the poor beast ?" " It mutt lie so," said Jerome, hold iug down his head, and sighing. "Ho noble, so brave an animal 1 Is it not true, my major?" exclaimed the old soldier, addressing the officer lxildly. "You know her—who has not known her ? Never stumbling over the balls on the field of battle, dashing forward . ui face of the cannon's month, crossing rivers like a fish. And so intelligent knowing the enemy a league off, manouivering under me when 1 was too heavily pressed- good, faithful, loving beast. When 1 was unhorsed and left for dead on the fh Id at Kylau, she re mained by my side, licking my wound, and. by kicking, kept off the wolvt-s ; and the next (lay, by her neighing, called some one to my assistance." Jerome could not continue ; the idea of their approaching separation atopped him. lie was silent for a moment " Take Ler, my major, take her ; you know her, and will take care of her— take her." " For fifteen louis?" said the major. " For fifteen louis," said Jerome. The old hone dealer made a horrible grimace. " Yon see, major," said Jerome, clap ping her on the back, " she is still an excellent beast! Perhaps she may grieve for the loss of her master." He proceeded to remove the straw from the mare's tail. During that time, the major cant a few words to the old jockey, in an almost inaudible voice. " Very well, sir," said Pierre, "it shall lie done. This Jerome,"continued he, "ia in luck—ww foi, it i* a good thing for him. Jerome followed his former officer, received the fifteen lonis, and after spesking a little about the o'.d regi ■sent, hastened to pay his stern credi tor and give tip his poor mare—a mat ter which drew more than one tear from the eye# of the old soldier. Then, after shaking hands with the major, he pro ceeded homeward without Bretonne, but with some loui* In his pocket. H wslked on, thinking about his old and faithful companion, who had many times saved his life—then stopped s minute—put his hands to his eyea, and wiqit like a child. He had walked about an hour, when the trotting of a horse roused him from his revery. He listened. "It is singu lar," said he to himself ; " I should sav that that was the trot of Bretonne/' He heard a neighing—he stopped turned round—the animal approached. What was hia surprise ! It was Bre tonne, mounted by the old Pierre, lie stood stupefied. "Ah ! what !" aaid he; "my mare with thee !' "My dear Jerome," said Pierre, laughing loudly at seeing the astonish meut of poor Jerome; "did I not toll thee that she would not escape me ! The dear major lias had pity on mo, and after examining Bretonne well, found that alio was good for nothing but to carry corn to the mill." " Thou host, old fool," said Jerome ; " the major never said such s thing of the beast that served so well under his own eyca." " lfow happens it, then," replied Pierre, " that he has given her to roe ? ' Jerome made a gesture of impatience, Pioire continued iu a raillerv; but Jerome did not say a word, hia features were contracted with rage, and from time to time long, doleful aighs es caped from his breast. The night was dark ; the rain fell, the road was distinguished with diffi cult v. They arrived at a spot where a road crossed from it leading to Jerome's home. Deep ravines were on the right and left. Pierre stopped. " Come," soul he, addressing himself to the man* aud Jerome, "make your adienx to one another. Poor beast, take leave of thine master." "The malicious wretch !" cried Jerome, in a voice of thunder, as he raised his whip over the head of the old horse jockey, who, tern fid, reined the mare backward, crying out, "Jerome— Bretonne—wait." Suddenly the mare slipped, she was on the brink of the ravine. Jerome j darted forward, seized the bridle. Pierre tried lo keep his scat, but he tell, rolled into the ravine, crying, "Jerome! Jeromet Jcifltnc! pardon —the mare " The voice Ixxuunc more distant, and i thou was heard no more. Jerome stood ■ there, on the brink, pale, immovable, listening to the accents of that dying voice, that re-echoed on hia troubled mind. A horrible silence then per vaded through the glen; and he listened again. A short time after no voice was heard ; he shuddered, and an icy cold ness ran through his veins ; in agony ho clasped his hands ; ho then pressed them to his forehead. " Miserable wretch that I am 1" ex- j claimed he in a mournful voice; " I shall lie taken a* a murderer ! Pierre ! Tierre !" but he called in vain. At that moment he heard the sonnd of the feet of many horses. He started across the fields—cleared the hedges, the ditches. He ran a long way with- , out any definite object iu view ; at length, exhausted, he fell half-dead near a hayrick, horrible spasms affected hia limbs, for the word "murderer, sounded in his ears, and the image of a scaffold was before him. The story is just concluded. Pierre had only received some contusions in his fall, and from those the reader no doubt rejoices at his suffering. Though stunned at first, he at last got np, and went to Jerome's liouae, whero the mare had arrived before him. The fam ily, at first dreadfully frightened, were consoled by Pierre. Then at twilight, Jerome ventured to steal to hia hut,and joy succeeded anguish when he learnt that Pierre was still alive, and that the mare still belonged to himself, for the uuijor had made him a present of her. He embraced his family, his mare, and even the horse-dealer. Len. (i. Faxon, of the Paduoali A'en tuckian, comes out in a card accepting tho call from "many voters" to become a candidate for coroner, lie says that •• au experience of several yoars within the precincts of Cairo render me an ex cellent judge of a dead man." Terms: a Year, in Advance. Belgian Farm Life. The farm laborer in Belgium does not enjoy much comfort, Working much j harder than most men, he is the worst j fed. ityv bread, potatoes, beans, but termilk, without meat or bacon, is the usual fare ; chicory the constant drink ; beer reserved for Hundays and fair lays. His wages vary from tenpenoe Ito a shilling, and he could never live ' upon it did not all the members of his (uunly work without ceasing. When the day's work is ended, often by moon light, the father cultivates lus small fh Id ; his wife and daughters take up the poorly paid lace work, instead of the old spinning-wheel, which steam has superseded ; and his sons, when their held work is done, bring up rab j litis for the Loudon market. Their lit tle hands pick up every tuft of herbage on the roadside, and open up a large trade of exportation not to be despised. From < Mend alone there come to as I,'2efore the bond of a bidder is approved it must be shown tlint the sureties are owners of real estate worth a sum double the amount of the bond. A Call for Help. Dr. Lehman of the JrtrUh Timr* ha* issued the following call for help j Fourteen thousand Jews are threaten ed with starvation in Palestine. The price of victuals hss rien to three times the former standard. The Jewish popn- | lntiou ha* already dispo od of every available article of valie in < xchange for food. The Jews of England have al ready contributed something like SB,- 000, "and those of Germany St.ooo, to ward the relief of the sufferers; but how far doe# this sura reach, when a population like the one we have named requires relief ? Therefore come quick ly to our aid. Help and save 1 " We would respectfully appeal to all rabbles, teachers, and trustees of con- j grogations to make collections at once j and transmit the money to the Central Committee of Amsterdam (Hollander and Lehren). The undersigned is also ready to receive contributions and transmit them to the proper authorities. Br WHOUmax* —Under the title of " The Cremation and Urn Hoc>ety, Limited," a company has been register ed in London with a proposed capital of £50,000, for the purpose of carrying out the ueocssary arraugemeuts in con nection with the process of cremation. Suffered. A young man in England named Mid winter married a young lady with great expectations who happened to be a ward in chancery. In order to do so he made declarations before tbe proper officers to the effect that he had obtained her guardian's consent. As a result he found himself in custody for contempt of court in marrying a ward in chancery without the proper consent, and in the next place was arrested on a charge of perjury committed in making his dec larations. As law is severely enforced iu England, the young man, instead of jumpiug into fortune, has got himself in for a term of penal servitude. NO. 26. The Currency QlllßW. The bill rtpttrUd by th# Omlfrenoe : CoiumittM at Wwhington of Uw two houses, oonlaius the following pro visions ; Bite, 7. That the entire amount of Uuitwl Htau-a notes out* landing an J in circulation t any one time shall not exceed $382,000,000, which ahull be ro ll ft* I and redneed in the following man ner only, to wit: within thirty day* after circulating note® to the amount of 81,000,000 shall from time to time be ia.ued to the National Banking Associa tions under thia act in excess of the Lighest outstanding volume thereof at any time prior to such issue. It shall lie the duty of the Secretary of the Treasury hi ictire so amount of United Hlste* note# equal to three-eighths of the circulating notes so issued, which i shall be in reduction of the maximum amount of 8382,000,000 fixed by thia act, and snob reduction shall continue | until the maximum amount of United j Htatea notes outstanding shall be 8300,- 000,000, and United Btataa notes so re tired shall be canceled and carried to j the account of the sinking fund pro tided for by the second clause of sec liou 5 of the act approved on the 23th 1 of February, 1862, entitled "An ect to I authorise the issue of United Btatrs [ notes, and for the redemption and fund- j tng thereof, and for funding the float- j ing debt of the United Stales," and shall constitute a portion of said sink ing fond, and the interest thereon, j computed at the rate of five per cent, i shall be added annually to the said sinking fund, but if the surplus revenue lie not sufficient for thia purpose the Secretary of the Treasury is hereby authorized to issue and sell at public sale, after ten days' notice of time and place of sale, a sufficient amount of bonds of the United Btatee of the char acter and description prescribed in this set for United Btatss notes, to be then retired and canceled. SEC. 8. That on and after the first day of January, 1878, any helder of United States notes to the amount of SSO, or any multiple thereof may pre- I sent them for payment at the office of ; the Treasurer of' the United Steles, or a the office of Assistant Treasurer at the City of New York, and thereupon he ahali be entitled to receive at bis option from the Secretary of the Trcaa- f ury, who is authorized and required to issue in exchange- for said notes so equal amount of either class of (lie cou pon or registered bonds of the United States provided for in the first section of the act approved July 14, 1870, en- j titled "An act to authorize the re- , funding of the naitenal debt," and the act amendatorv thereof, approved Jan. 20, 1871, which bonds shall oontinne to j be exempt from taxation, as provided in said act; provided, however, that the Secretary of the Treasury, in lien of such bonus, may icdeeni said notes ; in gold oein of the t*nited States, and the Secretary of the Treasury shall re issue the Uuited States notes o re ceived cither in exchange for ooia at par, or, with the cansent of the holder, in the redemption of bonds then re definable at par, or in the purchase of Kinds st not leas than par, to meet the current payments for the pnblic service, and when used to meet the current pay- ! mentn an equal amount of the gold in the Treasury shall be applied in re- i demption of the bonds konwn as fivo- ' twenty bonds. The Indiana Farmers. Abont 500 delegates attended tbe Indiana Farmer*' Convention, at In dianapolis. The following ic-j.ulioni were adopted : RrmAvcd, That we, the far.iers and working men of Indiana, fully deter mined to command due i* cognition, adopt, a* an expression of our senti ment and purposes, the name " lude pendent." The pUt form adopted sets forth aa follows :—We desire a proper eqnality, equity, and fairness; protection for the weak, restraint upon the strong; in short, jutlv distributed burdens and justly distributed power*. For our bniueas interest* we desire to bring producers and consumers, farmer* and manufacturers into the roost direct and friendly relations possible. We wage no aggressive warfare against any other interests whatever. The wrong* the body proposed to work against were: First—Banking and moneyed mo nopolies, by which, through ruinous rate* of interest, tbe products of hu man lalmr are concentrated in the hands of non-producer*. Thia is the great central source of those wrong* in and through which all other monopolies exist and operate. Seoond—Consolidated railroads and other transit monopolies, whereby all industries are taxed to the last mill they will bear for the benefit of stock holders and stock jobber*. Third Manufacturing' monopolies, whereby all small operators are crush ed oat, and tbe price of labor and pro ducts are determined with mathemati cal certainty in the interest of capi talist*. Fourth—Land monopolies, by which the public domain is absorbed by a few corporations and speculators. Fifth—Commercial and grain mo nopolies, speculating and enriching cor porations on human necessities. The resolutions further stated that the convention will endeavor to select honest and capable men for office with out regard to former political opinions; that no man will I* supported who ia known to be guilty of bribery, corrup tion, or fraud. One term only is favor ed, from the President down. Free KMse* are condemned ; also legislator*, Ih State and national, who are for the increase of taxes, fee*, and salaries. They demand a reduction of public ex penditure*. The remainder of the plat form refers to local issues. A State ticket waa nominated. "H. W.' Investigated. If Ocorge Washington's ghost could have been captured and brought before the District of Columbia Investigating Committee, says a San Francisco papei, its evidence would have been recorded thus : Q. Will Ton kindly tell the Commit tee who first laid out this town and se lected it as a place for respectable men to reside in? A. I cannot tell a lie. I did it. Q. Do ron expect that any of us poor beggars that are compelled to live all the year round in this dusty, windy, sultry, freezing, long-distanced old town" will renounce your memory? A. Without inflating the truth, I must say no, A Sport. The following dialogue, which took place in a street car a few days ago, is too good to be lost: One of a couple of Gorman gentle men sitting in one end of the car see ing a " flashily" dressed fellow come and take his seat at an opposite end from where they were sitting, asked : " Who ish dat, Hans ?" " Oh, dat is a sphort." " Vhat yon call a sphort, hey ?" " Ton't yon know ? * " No, vhat is he ?" " Vol, he his one of der fellers vat shaves all de hair off a pig, and cover him all over efftifc soap, and pet a green man $5 he can't catch him." The Two Lnver. fwe lovwa by a masa-grown spring; They leased tall Owsb together there. Mingled the hit sad ninny hair, tad heard the wooing tbraabas stag. O budding Urns! 0 love's ideal prime! Two wadded from the porta!* atopt i The bells smde happy aerating*, The sir was soft as fanning wings. While petals on the pathway slept. O para-eyed bridal O tender pride! Two fseee o'er a cradle bant ■ Two hand, above the head war* looked. These praaeed each other while they rooked, Tboee watched a Ufa thai love had rant. o Miletnn hour i O hidden power Two parent, by tba evening (ire : The rod light fed upon their knees On head, that rose by stow degree# I Uke buds upon the Uly spire. O patient life 1 O tender strife t The two still eat together there. Tba red light shone about their knots; ltd all the beads by slow degrees Ilad gone and left that lonely pair. O roy age fast! O raniahod past 1 The red light shone upon the floor A ltd made the epeoe between them wide ; They drew their chain up aide by side, Their pale cheek, joined,sod said "Ones mora!" O memories! G perithelia! —Geeryt Eliot 1 trass of Interest. Forty-seven Kent** newspapers have i died since the spring of 1872. Never sigh over what might have been, but make the beat of what iz. Bands! wood jewelry is new. The earrings are in the shape of a cross. Farmer* gather what they sow, while seamatraesee sew what they gather. Why are landlords like long skirt*? -Because they come for long rent*. What portions of the body are the beat travelers ? The two wrists (tonnata). " What is the maximum ball T said a young lady to a soldier in the Woolwich Arsenal. ""The Mini*-mum," was his reply. When a wealthy friend promises to leave yon a house and lot, it is not always beat to take the will for the doetL Paul Murphy has net played chess for ten Tears, nor even seen a eheas board. Hehaa taken an antipathy thereto. Emily Faithfull insists that the in temperate us# of ioe rater is the chief cause of bad health among American women. As an excuse for rejecting a widower, a fair young damsel informed a friend >ht "she did not want a 'warmed over ' man." # Regard this world aa though tbou wert destined to live forever, and the world to come aa though thou wert to die to-morrow. A little girl sent out to hunt er? came back unsuccessful, oomplain.'-,* that " lot* of hen* were standing round doing nothing." A Michigan editor suggest* that " now is the time to lot your eowa browse off the onion tops. It impart* ton* to the milk." % A candid old bachelor says : " After all, a woman's heart is the sweetest thing in the world. It'# s perfect honey comb, foil of sell" •' There never lived a man who was lionized," says an exchange, that it did not spoiL" That editor evidently for got the prophet DanteL " Bob, did you ever see Mia* 8. ? "No." "How do you know obe'a handsome, then V " Because the wo men are running her down so." Professor Watson says that there is never mora than a million stars in sight at once, bat it will be safe to count em before awe Ho wing the tUlctneni. An Angu