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.<rk of tho r*-
past, Presently ho hoard a murmur of
conversation, but ho oonld iot natch a
word ot it. Ho put down his head and
crowded his ear as far as he could git it
into the augle formed by the d.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,'2<ni,uoo rabbit* every year ; these are
skiniied sm! cleaned in itelgium, where
. the skin is used fortbe making of hats.
Yet, though their life is so hard, the
towns do not attract the rural popula
| tion. Habit and family traditions hind
them to the plow ; while every nine
years, at the renewal of their lease, the
raising of the r*lit fills them with
anxiety and poisons their existence. It
makes them distrust all those who are
making inquiry on the state of agricul
ture, and dissimulate as to the fertility
of their land, and the produce they ob
tain from it.
Western Flanders is crossed by a
strip of land which is particularly diffi
cult of cultivation ; until lately it was
scarcely inhabited, and covered with
low brushwood and marshy heath. The
reindeer moss enveloped the tree* with
n layer as of white ashes ; abundance
of ferns and moss grew, and the aickty
appearance of otuer plants gave the
country a sterile appearance. But by
means of the pine tree this land has
also become valuable. Abont 3,000
young trees are planted on an acre ; at
the end of seven years these are thin
ned and sold for wood ; this is repeated
every two years until the trees are
twenty years old, when they begin to
cut them into poles tor the hop; at
twenty-five years they produce props
for mines ; at thirty, "wood for hold
ings, and at forty the sere will still
have a thousand trees, worth three or
four shillings each, the whole paying
very 1 airly for the expenses.
A few families settle on the spot to
carry on the work ; they take a leas* of
a corner of land at a very low rent, and
hnsband and wife set to work and build
a cabin whi ?h they can call their own.
The uext savings are spent on a goat
and a few rabbits; then they bring up
s calf on the grass which grows in the
wood ; when at last they possess a cow, '
tliey are aaved from poverty. Tbs milk
is made into butter ; the manure en
riches their land ; a little capital ac
cumulates, and in a few years the
laborer becomes a small farmer ; by de
grees the small population Increases,
the land is conquered by cultivation,
the owner has speat little beside# the
wage*. The laborer is assured of bis
plot for thirty years, and willingly
spends hi# time upon it. Here, doubt
less, under adverse circumstances, a
living is made by a family ; but what
kind of living ? Not what any ordinary
English artisan, realising the comforts
procurable by a wage of a pound to
thirty shillings s week would b* in
clined to pnt np with.
NEWSPAPER POSTAtiE.
The 1111 l *■'* 1 |(on bj <b* C. . Home
( ainmlllrr an I'otUl AWalra.
The United State* House Post Office
Committee has agreed to report a bill
fixing the postage mi newspaper and
periodical publications mailed from the
effice of publication or from a new*
agency, and addressed to regular sub
scriber* or news agent*, as follows:
For such publications issued weekly or
oftener 1 j cents, and for those issued
leas frequently than once a week 3 cents
for each pound or fraction thereof.
Such publications are to !►* weighed in
bulk at the offices at mailing, aud the
postage paid thereon by a special ad
hesive stunp. Newspaper* to each
actual Btibsonber living within the
county wLrre the same arc printed are
to go free, but they shall not be de
livered by letter carrier* unless the
postage is paid thereon as provided by
law ; and newspapers and magazines
reciprocally interchanged between pub
lishers, not exceeding sixteen ounces in
weight, to be confined to a single copy
of each publication, are also to go free.
All mailable matter of the third c,la*a
may weigh not exceeding four pounds
for each package thereof, and peatage
shall be charged thereon at the rate of
one cent for each two ounces or fraction
thereof ; but nothing herein contained
shall be held to change or amend sec
tion 184 of said act. Affidavits are to
be made bv publishers or news agents
to secure their adherence to these pro
visions, for the violation of which penal
tie* are prescribed.
The committee also agreed to report
an amendment to the statutes fixing and
prescribing the method of adjusting the
salaries of postmasters.
The committee also agreed to report
a bill to insnre the better execution of
mail contracts. It provides, among
other things, that l>efore 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<ita stonecutter has finish ad
s headstone, on which is carved:
Stranger, psuaa and died s tear,
Fur I 'w very beautiful;
But aiilnaas came; I had to die:
And have goat to play wish the aagaU.
Punch sava since the Twenty-third
Regiment have returned from Ooomas
sie and got that new goat from her
Majesty at Windsor, they have become
so he-goat-istical that there is no stand
ing them.
The wealth of time is gold in the
mine—like the gem in the pebble—like
the diamond in the deep. The mine
must lie worked; the pebble ground and
polished—the deep fathomed and
searched.
Push's receipt for tbe preservation
of fan is excellent: " Pttfi oat all the
hair* with tweezers, and varnish the
skin. In the fall remove the Tarnish
and carefully stick all the hair* in their
old places."
In Myron, Allamakee oourty, lowa,
a little child named Haalip fell in a well
recently. It* mother, hearing its cries,
worked her way to the bottom of the
well, eanght the child's clothing in her
teeth, and climbed with it to the top.
Prudent and economical housekeepers
are about to Uke down the window
curtains, cover the parlor furniture and
pictures, put the chandeliers in old
sheets, a toe away the articles of " big
otry and virtue," and have the outside
blinds hung again.
While Yaeqnez, the bandit, was in
jail at Loa Angeles, GaL, aeveral voung
women, worshippers of the blood and
thunder herow of ten cent novel®,
lifted to call and leave bouquet* for the
caged bandit, and the jailer had sense
enough to appropriate them to hi* own
use.
One day! last week a voung eouple
went to a Justice of the Peace in Osce
ola, lowa, and were married. On the
wav home the groom took occasion to
Lay down the Uw to hie young wife, and.
informed her what she must and what
nhf must not do# A row ensued, and
"the bride of an hour " returned to her
fond parent*, while the groom started
West to grow up with the oouutry.
Mr. Harvey la. Hazen, who died in
Preston, near Norwich, Connecticut, at
the age of seventy-seven, had all his
life been a dancing master and director
of balls and entertainment*. In the
language of the Norwich Advertiser ;
" But one word remains to be said.
Two or three years ago he expressed a
wish that his favorite violin, the be
quest of bia brother Howiett, should be
buried with him when he died, lhat
wish was fulfilled; and those who took
a farewell look at the body as it lay l"
the coffin saw a violin lying by its side,
and a bow across the breast of the old
deceased dancing-master."
A Public Wash-Bo***.
According to the New Orleans Times a
Mexican correspondent Vera Cruz has a
public wash-house which might be ad
vantageously imitated in those cities in
this country where a liberal supply of
water cannot be procured by all at their
homes. It is an open building, sup
ported by oolnmns, occupying two sides.
of a square. It is kept scrupulously
clean, and thrdugh the middle are two
large marble troughs, with fifty sub
divisions on each side, affording suffi
cient room for a washerwoman and her
work. An abnndanoe of fresh, clear
water is provided by faucets to each
subdivision. The aooomdations afforded
at the publio wash-house are free of
charge. Hundreds of washerwomen
may be seen here at any hour of the
day, busy with hands and tongues.
The portion of the square not oovered
by the building is kept as a lawn, and
used exclusively for bleaching and dry
ing the clothes. Water in Vera Cruz is
brought a distance of fifteen miles
from the river Jamapa, near the town
of Medellin. The water works are owned
by the city, and resemble those o: the
city of Bt. Louis. The water is cool
ana clear as crystal, and costs to eac-i
householder who has it introduced iuio
his house a monthly stipend of &£•
Water is procurable free from the nu
merous public fountains.