H r ca<l and ltnt ley.
F'.ri engaged in mnitld—g tu*d
* nsll tnske some swept-! • rt fluttar
>'h ho|>e to get th© 1 a• rj- -ni<t
To Risk© his bread and I -tor.
She msv not p'ay tbr .mr .-roqnet.
Or French m it fleu an rtutlt r.
If wall i.he know the onrd from \>hcv.
And lnske ssoit hit t.l and 1 uUer
In meal and creara slip's tIK-w deep.
And cannot stop (,i putter;
But says if ho * I sow and reap.
She'll make lna htxa 1 aid t utlT.
Lite daiiy maid, t! o farm,.,„,f„,
Sliall 1* ihe toast ,„„, r .
Alone man I sad* , ont „ iT l;fp '
iMtli-ti! tread and hotter.
The First Lfmon.
Th* - y fit i. 1,1 (her. On hr knee
The open volume --,
Hex dimpled Anger point*. and he
Looks on. ailh ( 11 doling up*.
To eoe he r name. w.;h childish hire.
The pntiUi.g letter* o'er ai.d o or.
Around tin tn si- tit: utaratr turtle .
Tlie sumiuri au.de hi, n tusil;
The sou hp an;* through t! <■ hram he* flip
Te ta inkle ut the i*sl;
Ami atssliaint t-U f . uis li.l them look
On Nature * glo: uu P ;, t tuie I-, k
Vet otiU Ou-.r euui.y I, .l* Wild ha.
The mi otic page to scan .
And gently fi l. i "je*. or "no,"
Whene'er the littl, u.an
ltrjvat*. he guiding tit go: lt d.
Tlic a. her facet you; g voice has fa-
" A ta;i.ls for an,,.far at . \<s
live sari!. Ikr. wa'.-lt u* new ;
IVrUap# tlk.r wa.u g move
The cut I* ujvia our l>r\ >. '
II .land* for hliic the ivl.t, .I*it,
Of liraie.i at-d of v. tir . *,■ i-icari
'* C stand- f r curia ujv-u your t.caJ ,
II ia for dimple* d . p .
E fur your ear. *o soft i tr* 1.
F for nmr 1.l J© fe. t;
O i* Ihe gold :S ' ■ \s-nr i.jnr .
H i* year hand, o small a>. 1 fair.
" I is fm pretty Iat <■!
J i* i* for J. .u an.' Juu;
Ki for Kary,- 1 3. v!. ra well .
V ou oft.-u *;■■ ak lu h.tc ,
I. is fur ks. f. i ll* li.vl it came
M is fvir ui. lii, r sw.-ctCBl "
Ami thus her put)* voice p- on
a'.i th. ; 4
She uami * the latteis, one t\ one,
And. lei he ahoulJ foiy. t.
She naaie* wi i each s vm* simple word
By her young. j> U r. f;. u heard.
And often, a. she *;vks. he tends
To ki.-s foretjead fair.
Or wu ■ i ay. ut {, rr htlle hand
B"f; and shiuiug hair,
" r r iu hi* pearly ear.
tlli tender look. " I iove you. dear! "
Be:!ia{ when far .c future year*.
With care* and sorrow* r.fe.
lie corns the le*on all must team
From the stern teacher. Life,
His aoul will gather faith and power
Front thought of thi* calm childhood hoar!
SERSII'S R VZOriOF.
Some friends had induced me to visit
Ostend. I was passing my last evening
at the Kunsaai when a man whose
aspect contrasted strangely with the
commonplace faces among which I had
lived since my arrival came and sat
down a short distance from me. As he
did so the people who sat nearest to
him poshed their chairs awav, and a
murmur arose among the ladies; eyts
were directed toward him, and even fin
gers were pointed sthim; bnt the new
comer did not seem to notice the stir,
br.t remained motionless in his chair.
A friend of mine passed by. I painted
out the unknown to him.
"Do you know that man?" I in
qnirsd.
" Sergius Ilizenmof. A queer fel
low."
" Ton know Lis history ?"
"So so. A terrible history. You
must get Philippe to tell it to you."
I went at once in search of Philippe
—s Russian whom I had met at differ
ent watering-places, and with whom I
had a speaking acquaintance. I found
iiim in the Princes' Pavilion.
" I want you to tell me Sergius
Ruz"nruoFg history.
"WeJi, let n* go to supper, and I
will te.l it." I led him to the Pavilion
de 1 Lists cade, and at the second course
he aegan his narrative.
" Sergiu* and I wre fellow-students
at the University of Moscow. We both
came from the country, and at home
we w.-re neighbors. He was like a
young maiden in swe tness of disposi
tion and in timidity. His timidity was
of snch a nature that one could discern
in him the presence of a trouble that
had weighted him down from infancv.
He spoke but seldom, kept himself
apart from others, and studied dili
gently. "We liked him as one likes in
offens;ve beings, inspired by that senti
ment, in which proud pity has always
pJ'jre or less a share. In fact, Sergiits
had experienced a hard childhood. His
father resided in the governorship of
IK . He was a rich man, miserably
stingy, and frightfully rude. His fno
vas yellow and bony, his eyes chilling
in their looks, and with the sly and
suspicons expression of a miser's eyes.
His wife had died two years after the
birth of his son. It was said in the
country around tLat he had killed her.
She ws a girl of good family, and had
been delicately nurtured. She wished
to rear her child iu eaae. The ©ld
curmudgeon objected, but she paid no
heed to his words. From this moment
the mother and child were subjected,
with an inflexible rigor, to the lot of
serfs. She was shut up, treated like a
servant, and the poor womau died from
the effects.
" The child grew np nnder this terri
ble master, who, from the time Sergius
was six years old, compelled him to
rr.ke together the rubbish in the yard,
while he beat him unmercifully.
*• It was a dream of the father's to
make bis son a sort of bead man on his
estate and to extract from him all the
money that he refused to spend for his
education. He sent little Sergius to
the field to dig, to hoe, and to labor.
" But one day the brother of ltazon
mof came to the old house which, from
neglect, had nearly gone to decav. He
was a very rich bachelor, and Sergius
was to be his heir. He was a some
what cultivated man, and he could not
comprehend the neglect with which
Razoumof treated his sons. He insist
ed that the child should be sent imme
diately to Moscow to undertake his
studies. * Unless he does so,' he added,
' he will inherit nothing from me.' The
father shuddered at this last remark as
much as at the thought of the expense
which would be entailed upon him by
the education of his Son. He wept,
entreated, declared that be would give
bis son a brilliant elocation at home.
The brother persisted, and the child
was sent to Moscow.
"He remained eight years at Mos
cow. At the age of twenty-one he had
completed his studies, in which he had
distinguished himself, and was prepar
ing for travel in foreign countries when
his uncle died. At the moment when
he heard of the death of his uncle he
was ordered by his father te return
borne forthwith. Submissive boy as
he always was, he obeyed. He found
bis father dryer, leaner, more yellow,
and more of a skinflint than ever. He
saw the old houso with its narrow win
dows and greenish window-panes, some
of the latter gone and the holes which
they bad left stuffed with old dish
cloths and shreds of paper. The planks
ol the roof, once red, were sprung and
worn-eaten. He saw in the large yard
the same puddles in which when a
child he had dabbled with ducks and
geese ; the same garden overrun with
weeds and nettles. He went into the
antechamber and aroused a swarm of
ilies which buzzed about, knockiug
"gainst the wall and ceiling; in the
:oom were old shoes run down off the
heel, bits of leather, rakes with broken
tcetb, battered spades, scraps of rusty
l' KMU. KV li'iyj, I<Mitor :t Mil 1 V.*tu*
VOL. VII.
mMt. n jug of Vwns in the coruer, and
m flit' middle of all nn emaciated oluld
MI tatters who was winding oft thread
into skeins.
" llts father received him in silence,
with a bantering look which seemed to
say, ' Here you are back again. Mt
IHV. eh ? Now that you have in! ©riled,
you will recommence your life just
where von left otY eight years ago.
be are Itook* and writings for othe. t ;
as for von, you shall lw, as I have
always desired you to be, a serious
man, and you wilt inherit from me with
more difficulty than you did from your
uncle.'
" The uncle's estate was distant one
day's journey from old Raxoumof'a
house. Rutottm >f leases! it out, and
immediately placed a spade and a plow
in the hands of Sergttis. These hands,
like his mind, had become delicate.
This paternal persistency and self will
was a terrible blow to Sergiu*. He **w
crushed to earth all hi* dreams of a
higher life which had already began to
dawn study, the interchange of
thought with distinguished minis,
poetry—but he did not dare to revolt.
' v ' Whatever may !*• (he misery of
the remainder of my day*,' he said to
himself, 'I at least will have lived
eicht vears.
"He had brought a few book* with
him ; his father opened hi* trunk, saw
them and earned them away. Au hour
afterward Scrgiu* detected a strange
smell of burnt paper. Roxonmof, who
had for a long time done his own cook
ing, wa* warming over the flame of the
bunting bo. k.s a dish which he had
cooked on the day before. Sergius
Mimed his work in the fields and kept
down the bitterness of his sorrow.
"And thus two years passed away.
* * * * • ft.
" One autumn morning, with pickaxe
on shunlder. wearing a shabby black
coat, the ©o'e remaining garment left
from his wardrobe at Moscow, he was
passing through a grove of fir tree* on
his way to the fields. He met a youug
girl who was gathering mushrooms.
She wore a white ami blue stripped
petticoat, a cloak of dark cloth, and an
embroidered apron. Her blonde tresses
escaped front under a wide-brimmed
straw hat. The lightness of her move
ments, the graceful curves of her young
form attracted him. She was Dot a
peasant girl. He paused in his walk,
blushed, and saluted her. She also
blushed and returned his salute, and
then they stood for a little while gaxing
at each other like two children. The
young girl first turned and continued
ou her way. Reaching the verge of
the woods she disappeared iu a hemp
field.
"The same hour on the next day
found Sergius at the same place. At a
distance h© reoognixed the young girl'*
straw hat. Hanging to her ana was the
little basket which he had seen on the
morning before. She waa stooping and
ws* gathering, or pretending to
gather, mushrooms. He walked toward
her, lifted his hat, and passed quickly
ly without turning around. This
manoeuvring lasted for eight days.
Tuen he said to himself that there
would soon be no mushrooms left, and
that some morning he would find him
self alone in tbe woods. On the fol
lowing day, as if actuated by a despair
ing resolve, he spoke to the young girl.
He learned from her that she was a poor
orphan who had been adopted by a
childless widow residing in tho neigh
borhood. R ~td in a convent, she had
jnst left it to !ive thenceforth with her
benefactress.
"Tatiana, without being heatttUnl,
possessed a certain charm. As is gen
erally tho case with Russian women,
the animation of her features contrast
ed with the fixity and depth of her
gaze. Endless dreams passed a TOSS
her face. Her eyes were green, with a
shade of gold in them ; her ehap© undu
lating ; her extremities delicate.
" Sergias soon made the acquaint
ance of Thecle Martinovua, the mother
by adoption of the youug girl. From
that time forth he pa*ed hi* days not
in the field* bnt with them.
" In the morning he would go to
Thecle Martinovna's house, and would
find Tatiaua in a grove of willows on
the border of a pond near the house,
whence she was watching for his com
ing. From there they would go into
the woods, breathing tho rosin s deli
cious and peuetrating odor, listening
to the dramming of the green wood
pecker, and gathering mulberries and
hazelnuts. Sometimes they would sit
in the clearing* between two birch
trees, and while Tstiana would make
necklace© of wild berries, which resem
bled grains of coral in the moist ver
dnre, Sergius would cut Tatiana'* name
with a penknife in the silver bark of
the trees.
" Then they would return serosa the
fields, enr. loped in the luminous an
tnmnal snn. at every step searing np
innnmerablc crickets. Beaching the
bouse they would follow Thecle Marti
novna into the barns, among the
chickens, in the enclosure where wete
ranged the bee-hives, from which they
would takedeliciouscombs of perfumed
and transparent honey.
" In the evening Tatiana would serve
the repast in a clump of raspberry
bushes. The bowla of cream were sur
rounded with branches of holly, the
cheese and butter were spread out on
vine leaves ; there were golden cakes,
amber-colored honey, dried figs. They
weuld eat heartily, and laugh without
the shadow of care upon them.
"Sergius permitted himself to be
overcome in all his being by the sweet
ness of his impressions. Late at night,
and when he thought his father was
asleep, he would return home.
"Two or three happy weeks thus fol
lowed each other.
" One morning, just as he was about
to pass through the gate of the yard, a
garret wiudow opened on its rusty
hinges with a grntmg sound. A yellow,
unwashed, wrinkled face appeared at it,
and a harsh voice made itself heard.
" ' Sergius !'
" Sergius, who had half turned, shud
dered iu all his limbs and looked at his
father.
44 ' You are going to the fields—to
the neighbor's—are yon not ?' said
llazoumof. Then he suddenly added,
with a wicked grin : 'Liar, hypocrite,
varlet, brigand ! If that hussy Tatiana
has given you a rendezvous this morn
ing. she must do without you. Come
back this instant!'
" Sergius remained for a moment
rooted to the spot. The father, accus
tomed to obedience from the son, closed
the window, persnaded as he was that
Sergius would leave the place where he
was standing only to oumo into the
house. But the young man contined
his walk, went through the gate, and
directed bis steps toward Thecle Mar
tinovna's house. When he had walked
about half a mile from homo he paused
and questioned his heart. He felt that
he loved Tatiana, and that it was im
possible for him to live without her.
He resumed his walk and went as far as
the pond, where he was certain that he
would find his well-beloved.
44 She was there. He took her by the
hand without speaking, led her up to
her mother by adoption, and abruptly
said to the old lady :
" 'I ask Tatiana of you in marriage.'
" 4 But your father 1' said Tbecle
Martinovna, surprised. 4 Tatiana has
no dower. 4
44 4 1 am twenty-four years of age,'
THE 'ENTKE REPORTER
he replied, • ami 1 have tnv uncle'*
estate.'
The good I nly, weeping, gate them
her blessing.
" I'i " his return home, Sergius t>Kl
tiia tat hi r what lit' had done. Kaaoiimof,
stum tied by this audacity ill aue who
had so long yielded lo las tyranny, first
stepped ! ack a pice or two ami then
bntst upon his soli with teriihle uiipre
cations. Ha cried out, howled, con
ducted himself like a maniac, threat
ened him with interdiction hy the law,
and dually seised an old gnu and point
ed it point blank at the young man.
" ' Rogue, will yon obey mo?" he
vociferated.
" Sergius shook hi* heed negatively,
for the first tune looking his father
fill! ill tlie face. 1. >vo lad at la-st given
him courage atul the consciousness of
his rigid*.
" ' I drive you hence, accursed ! 00,
I drive you hence !'
" Sergias left hi* father's presence.
He passed tlie night uuder a sited, and
when the day came he repaired to the
farm t :at he had in, erited from his
uncle.
" Arrangements were sxn made with
the lessee, who surrendered his lease,
ami from that time Sergius devoted
himself to repairing, arranging, ami
adorning the solitary house which was
•vhiu to be tilled with his love and with
his Tattaua's presence.
" On the eve of his marriage he wrote
to his father :
"' Mv Fatuiik : 1 am to lie married
to-morrow. Your paternal consent
would make my happiness complete.
You will he ir rue witness that up to the
day wln-n my love gave birth withiu in©
to will, which is also a meritorious im
pulse, 1 had always rendered to vou the
respect and obedience that are due to a
father. Will you pardon me if you
think that 1 have failed in my doty to
ward yon ? Will you see your son
again and permit him to pres. ut to you
her who also desires to call yoti by the
name of father? She is a pure, loving,
and devoted young girL She will love
yon and will brighteu your old days
with her presence. For the sake of my
mother, who was, I have Wen told, a
gix.H.l soul an.l a Christian ; in the name
of your child's happiness, do not refuse
as yonr blessing.
" Raxonmof burnt his son's letter as
ho had burnt his luniks, gave himself
up to a towering rage, l>eat his ser
vant*, who fb-d in terror from his pres
ence, and shut himsetf in his room for
three days. On the third day, when he
emerged for the first time, he extended
Li* Laud toward that part of the coun
try where dwelt the rebel and his wife,
and exclaimed with a threatening ges
ture,
" ' I will have them vet !'
" Scrgiu* at last knew what it was to
" A loving wife of sweet disposition
and sufficiently cultivated in mind to
•hare the theught* of her husband, who
wo nt back to In* cherished studies and
to the higher life wbich he had thought
lost forever; independence and soli
tude for both ; what a dream—unex
pected and yet made reality !
'• He took his wife to the house which
he li.kl prepared for her. It was a
small white cottage, covered on the
outside with virgin's bower and ivy. A
little glazed portico, crowned with
flowers, gave HC ss to a dining-room
furnished with carved maple fnruittire
and rusli matting. To the right was
the nuptial chamber, bide and white, a
true silken nest. To the left was S*r
gins's study, hung with brown drapery
and the furniture of which was bound
with old leather, broiised. In the rear
was a small parlor, upholstered in
white and gold, containing Tutiana's
work table and two large rosewood
bookcases filled with books. The two
young people passed their eveuings
there beneath an alabaster lamp, tter
gins reading aloud and Tatiana more
ahsort>ed IU looking at Hergitis than in
using her neixlle, Flowers everywhere,
and everywhere joy.
•' How unlike the gloomy paternal
house was this!
" The garden was as yet only
planned, but every day they received
parcels of rare plants and seeds. Ser
gius never le'* the house except to ut
tend to necea iry matters absut his es
tate, and if at times he hunted—for he
loved the chase—it was in his garden.
"As for Tatiana, who expanded with
love into all those riches of a hea ■
which nntil then had Wen able to a'- j
tooh itself only by memories to her p - I
rents, who had died when she was v<
young, and by respect to her benefac
tress, Theele Martinovna —hc had
grown beantifnl. As in this solitude
sho lived for her husband alone, every
day she dri ed I.e. i pecially for
their eherisheil evenings, and thus
offered him daily tho renewed charm
and feast of a new Tatiana.
" Nevertheless, Hergius thought of
his father. To endeavor to sec him
once more was absolutely useless. He
knew too well tho seventy of thnt na
ture; but he inquired ataint him from
the servants. They told him that he
had grown more morose, harder, and
more miserly than ever.
" After having grieved over this rup
tnre, which seemed to lie forever, Her
gius had finally decided upon his
course, when one morning, exactly ten
months after his marriage, he received
the following note:
"Mr 80s :—I am growing old ; I
snff.-r from my isolation. liring your
wife to me. I will warm myself in your
youth and happiness. 1 wish now to
pardon and bless."
"Sergius tittered a cry of joy, hear
ing which Tatiana ran to him. Hc
showed her the letter. The two chil
dren fell into each other's nrras. There
would be 110 more clouds in their skv.
They felt their hearts to bo singularly
lighted. Theso good souls had suf
fered more from the cruel severity of
the old mis •- than had appe >red on the
surface.
" ' tie will at leunt ho there when onr
child is born," he said, kissing his
wife.
"Ou tint same day they hastened to
Irtohe, and, wn leaving the carriage,
they knelt before the terrible old man.
He embraced them, blessed them, and
proved cordial and afficli lu'e. He
entreated thera to pass several days
under his roof. In the evening the re
past was nearly preseutable. It com
prised a enenmber omelette, hnck wheat
cakes, some butter, a botftlo of wine,
nearly all of which the old man drank
himself and which made him quite gay.
Sergius did not recognize his father.
"Tatiana experienced a gloomy un
easiness in this dilapitated house,
which was dirtier than ever. There was
not the smallest cranny in it that was
not sticky with roaches or (lies, lint she
feared to cast a shadow 011 the recon
ciliation so long hoped for, and she "did
not dare to speak of uu immediate
return home.
" The day after their arrival Sergius
was aroused by a gentle tapping at his
window, it was his father who rapped.
" • Come quickly,' said the old man,
' one of the servants has just seen a
magnificent roe-buck in the clearing 1'
"H rgius dressed himself in haste,
kissed his wife, who was still asleep,
provided himself with a double-bar
reled guu, slipped bullets into it, and
went out.
■' The day was a fine oue, the atmos
phere balmy, and tho white fleecy
CENTUM IIA EE. CENTRE CO., PA.. Till KSDA Y, JULY 30, 1871.
clonda which allowed themselves on the
horiroti ro*e onlv to disappear.
"With a sentiment of I >ve fWgius
saw the wood* m which he had uu-t
Tatiaua for the tlrnt tune. The odor of
too*?.: * and mushroom* waa ill the air
Under hi* feet cracked the fir colics
and the dry brush wo>J. A har<
started Up befori him. He gave it it*
life, he wan so happy I
"He made (tie tour of the clearing,
*aw no roe-buck, wandered here ami
there, and began to think that he had
barely kissed Tatiaua at parting. What
was he doing, hunting the roe-buck
only a few hour* after lit* arrival at his
father's house? Why leave his Wife
alone iu that melancholy house, the
sight of which seemed to chill her ?
"At tins thought he retraced Ml
steps, hastened his walk, sml finally
commenced to run. When tie came in
sight of tho house, as if ushauicd of
tills somewhat girlish lmtmlse which
had carried him awav, he slackened his
*|>eod. llis wife doubtless Still was
sleeping.
" Suddenly a piercing cry reached
his ears. lie felt a cold perspiration
tr cklitig down his back. With a few
Uuuids he reached tlie Yard and run
toward th© door. It was fastened ou
the inside. At that moment, the cries,
pit r"ing in their inteaity, recommenced.
" It was his wife who was uttering
these shrieks of agony. With a kick
he bflrst the dtnir open.
" In the middle of the hall, Tatiaua,
half dressed, was stretched ou the lhor.
I'wo valets held her feet and hand*,
ami two others showered blows on her
with sw itches. The fsther, with blood
shot eyes, and with his month foaming
and working convulsively, leaped like
like a deer around the victim, crying
out:
"•Harder! Harder!'
" Bergins put his gun to his shoul
der and fired. The ball eutered the
mouth of the howling old man and he
dropped dead.
" The valet* threw them*elve sob
bing at the feet of Sergius. He rVpelled
them, and lifted Tatiaua, who was in
frightful convulsions.
" When au hour had elapsed death
came to Tatiaua'* relief.
" Ou the next day Sergius went out
and gave himcelf into the hands of jus
tice. He wa* tried and acquitted.
" Notwithstanding thi* acquittal,"
added Philippe, " vou perceive that
this affair has given iiitu a bad reputa
tion here."'
At this moment a party of the bath
ers approach. At the same time Ser
gius HaZ'iumof passed by u*. and his
old college mate turned las back on
him.
Rat llattues.
The cellars, drains, and slaughter
houses of l'aris contain a dense popu
lation of rat*. They may be killed to
any extent, but are never got rul of.
It is stated that in all France there are
upward of two thousand millions of
rat.* and other rodents, that i, animal--
who gnaw with their front teeth. The
Paris rats take ttie lead iu audacity,
and, a* a specie* of game, are hunted
for their carcasß, their skin, and their
fur. During the recent siege of that
city rats figured publicly a* a market
able commodity for the table, aud they
may do so again. As an encourage
ment to their increase in numbers, tln-y
are allowed to make nightly visits to
th© depots for dead horses, the botie
of which they strip to the required
cleanness. The depots are surrounded
bv walls, to which they gam access by
hide* bored all round, every hole l>eing
exactly the length of a rat'* body, leav
ing the tail sticking out. Once in every
three mouths there is a grand battue.
A* the assailants, with noise of tin pans
and drum*, rush into the enclosure, the
rat* rush into the holes, and the collec
tor, making a tour of the premiers,
seizes rat aftei rat bv its tail and trans
fers it to bis bag witli amazing dexteri
ty. We are informed that " the privi
lege of gathering rats on the battue
days is farmed out by the authorities,
ami a profitable business it is. These
rats, sleek and fat as they Ur<Va*anlj
are, fetch a remunerative price ; the
fur, the skin, and the flesh meet witli a
ready sale. A recent English writer
incline* to think "that a nice plump
young rat, fried or roasted, and served
up with good gravy and other condi
ments, would make a very delicious
dish." It is, perhaps, only a strong
old-fashioned prejudice which keeps
Englishmen and Americans from trying
the experiment 1 We have, indeed,
heard of Americans who were very glft l,
during the siege of Paris, to get any
thing so good as rats to eat ; and it is
well known that sailors who have run
short of provisions on long voyages not
only feel no repugnance to this kind of
fixxl, but learn to positively like it.
After all, the repugnance lies chiefly in
the idea. Many a man in Paris may
have breakfasted sumptuously upon
rats who would have gone hungry for n
week rather than eat it had lie known
the ingredients of the toothsome dish.
Old Time Punishment*.
In Germany a dame who let her
tongue wag too freely alwnit her neigh
l>ors, used to be compelled to stand
upon a block in the market-place, with
a heavy stone dangling fmtn her neck,
shaped either like a buttle, a loaf, an
oval dish, or representing a woman
putting out her tongue, unless she hap
pened to bo rich enough to buy per
mission to exchange tho hateful stone
for a bag of hops, tied round with red
riblion.
In 1/537, a woman of Sandwich, in
Kent, venturing to take liberties with
the good name of " Mrs, Mayoress,"
had to walk through the streets of the
town, preceded by a man tinkling a
small bell, bearing an old broom upon
her shoulders, from the end of which
dangled a wooden mortar. Stafford*
shire scolds did not get off so easily.
They had to follow the lx-11-man until
they showed unmistakable signs of re
pentance, debarred from giving any one
a bit of the r miml by tho bracks, fir
•colds' bridle, nn ingenious aiTange
ment of metal hoops contrived to clasp
the head and the ncek firmly, while the
padlock behind remained locked, while
a spiked plate pressed upon the tongue,
so as effectually to preclude its owner
making any use of it. The branks, how
ever, was not peculiar to Staffordshire ;
it was in use in Scotland centuries ago.
Destiny Did It.
An instance of " destiny." Not King
ago an English mechanic having vainly
used all his ingenuity in endeavoring to
get him a wife, advertised for one in a
tit of despair. 110 was profoundly in
earncßt, and so was the dame who re
sponded. They met, bnt whether it
was the color of her hair, or the shape
of her nose, or her disposition, it is not
said—but be didn't fall n captive to her
charms. He advertised again, varying
the form of his announcement, and
when he had an answer went to see his
correspondent with a heart beating
high with hope. Alas ! He found the
equally persevering spinster again. A
third time he wooed Fate with a yet
difl.rentlv worded begnilement. He
reached the appointed place of meeting
—'twas Hhe 1 Crushed to tho earth,
and convinced, like Mr. Sniveller, that
destiuy was full of staggerers, ho
smiluu, he conversed, and meekly at
last wedded the determined woman.
A I'l.KlMlsr EXPERIIEJir.
Itruoi kolitf '!'■ car itir lit ul U Sunk* tlllc,
l>r. Axhbel Hmitli, of Oalventon,
Texas, while ou a visit to the oouutry
was bitten by a snake, Mud this is the
account he give* of it iu a litter to u
flit-lid t
" Mv liK.tn 818 : 1 can't walk, but,
with help, have hobtdeil to the table.
If I improve reasonably in hobbling by
Friday night 1 shall in- at my post, in
your city, on Saturday, My lameness
would deserve but the shortest men
tion but for some facts connected with
its cause, which may, perhaps, be of
interest to others in similar circum
stances. Alsiut dark Saturday last, as
1 was walking up the hill from the buv
shore, 1 fell a lnavy scuffling about
one ul my legs, and at tlie same instant
the hlLa of sharp teeth. Reaching the
house, ! saw by the light three several
little wounds with blood exuding from
them on my leg, three inches alntve the
ankle. 'l'llet© were two punctures to
each wound, made by the two fang* of
the snake that had bitten me. .Swell
ing had already cutumeuccd, less than
five miutiles from the biting. Still 1
determined to do nothing, fur a while
ut leant, iu order to observe the effects
ot the |H)ison unmodified by treatment.
The swelling increased rapidly, ami in
fifteen minutes more the pain had be
come excruciating, and 1 cotihl not
bear my weight on the leg. I was
obliged now to lie down. 1 now took,
in a wine-glass of water, a half teu
siHiouftll of saturated tincture of iodine.
About fifteen minutes afterwards I re
peaked the iodine- slmtit twentv drops.
A short time atter, perhaps fifteen or
twenty minutes, a tliird dose of iodine
tifleeu drops—in twmty-five or thir
ty minute© after, the fourth. Tlie
length of these several intervals is Con
jccturaL 1 had the orifices of the
wounds several times touched with the
tincture of italme, and the leg, which
was now swollen front the ankle to the
knee, was painted with iodine.
"The punt was excruciating, but by
10:30 or 11 o'clock two and a-haif or
three hours after the bite—had abated
sensibly. A)>out 1.30 in tho morning 1
fell asleep, and awoke at sunrise with
complete f and superficial sere
nes* of the ltmb on touch, now swollen
to double ita former sire, but with ©o
pain worth mentioning. Nor have 1
since had any sufTi ring, further than
complete disease of tho leg, till this
morning, and lieing obliged to have it
all times elevated. The foot partici
pated in the swelling ; and if the leg
hung down it became < and, indeed, still
doe*) in a few minutes perfectlv livid.
" The interest of the matter in ques
tion lies in the use, the efficacy, of
iodine a* a remedy for venomons totes.
Nothing else than iodine was llt-d ; UO
spirits, no hartshorn, not the least pos
sible tluug iu the world, internally or
externally, except iodine, and one small
drink of water Former experience had
given me confidence in iodine, by its
use with other*. 1 was determined to
give it a fair showing in my own ease,
unaided and unobstructed by any other
mediation. I have attached the greater
Intel est to this case t>ecau*e, though
one is seldom a safe judge in Ins own
ease, the present bite has lccn bv long
odds tlie severest snake bite 1 ev r
knew. If left to tw If it would, in my
opinion, have been fata! in a vary few
hours. That the snake wa* a large one
I knew from hi* heavy scuffling altout
my legs, and 1 may add, from the depth
to which I felt his fangs enter. My
instantaneous suspicion, from the
weight and severity of th< biting, waa
that my ussailant was a wildcat or some
stich animal. Tho cxorueiatiug pain
felt subsequently, as before mentioned,
si eDied to me like the ferocious cramps
of the muscles iu malignant cholera,
except tnat they were not iu any de
gree -pasinodn*.
" Tlier# tr< n* other circumstances,
iTmptomi which I should detail wen* 1
writing to * physician, bat they would
only at ill farther bore yon. To act
forth truly the efficacy of iodine moat
excuse my length. Ido uot know what
k uid of a snake it wa*. hut suspect it to
h-oJ Wn a rattlesnake.
'■ Very truly yours.
"Aminßt. Surra."
Cause of Sleeplessness,
I)r. Duckworth, in the BrliUh Medi
cal Journal, eal's attention to some
causes of insomnia which he thinks are
hardly sufficiently recognised or ade
quately met by the resources of practi
cal medicine. K- cent researches have
clearly shown that the brain is com
paratively aniemic daring sleep, and
that the blood thus removed from the
head is more freely supplied to the
viscera anil in teguments. The most
constant cause and certainly the most
frequent accompaniment of sleepless
ness is au opposite condition, or one of
active and increased cerebral circula
tion. A spi vies of nocturnal dyspepsia,
mild in its character and producing no
actual suffering, may som> turn s give
line U> persistent insomnia. There may
be no symyturns beyond dryness of the
month, burning of the soles of the
feet, and heat and throbbing in the
head, and the** are probably due to a
tiro acid condition of the contents of
the stomach, and upper part of the
small intestines, caused generally by
excess in fatty and highly-seasoned
food, in fruit, and in various wines.
Sleeplessness may bo due to bodily
and mental over exhaustion, which re
sults in nti increased flow of blood to
the brain, consequent upon vaao-motor
paralysis. Again, it may bo the result
of a mere habit, as in those eases where
there has been a long course of broken
rest; it may be caused by persistent
odors, by certain effluvia, by the nb
sence of moisture in the air of a sleep
ing apartment, or by nn improper eleva
tion or depression of tho head. The
treatment in most of these eases should
of course be directed to tho removal of
the cause, btit. when it is found neces
sary to give drugs, bromide of potas
sium autl chloral hydrate are probably
the best, both having been shown to
diminish the amount of blood circula
ting through tho brain.
Itestliq; One's Hones.
"Well, Missus, Is going to leave
you," said Molly to her mistress, whom
"she had loved and grown fat with for a
good many years. "Going to leave
me, Molly ? Why, where are yon go
ing?" " Oh, I s going to get married ;
I've worked long enough, and I's going
to ri st mv bones." Of course Mrs.
Jones could make no objection to this
common and natural femalo frailty. Ho
Molly went, and nothing was heard of
her for a year or two, when she came
back, poor and emaciated, having lost
her husband, and all the rest of ills
human nature is heir to having fallen
upon her. Mrs. Jones was much sur
prised to see her coming, and said to
her : " Well, Molly, have von rested
your bones? "Golly, IVtißßUs I's
rested my jaw bones, and dem's all the
bones I've rested."
THE PR\AI.TY. —The penalty of pa
triotism, says the New York World, re
ferring to the Fourth, is as follows :
A rough estimate, with several of the
upper wards yet to hear from, put it at
2 xt (1 tigers, 97 hands, 80 eyes, 17 arms,
9 legs, 14 noses, 48 cases of hair all off,
and 30,000 druukß.
M A It 1 K T T F..
Mariette Dubois was thn undoubted
belle of Diunu. Moreover, she was
credited by o<<:umoii report with |mibs< s
sitig a larger d than any girl in the
village a reputation not without value
even iu no primitive u society as that o!
Dmau some sixty five yearn ag- ,
The effect of Ules© combined attrac
tions was that before Mariette was
seventeen years old, various offers ha<l
been made to tho Widow Dubois for
tho fair daughter's hand. Tho black
smith, the apothecary, nud tin* tun
keeper w re all her declared admirers.
Hut the widow seemed hard to please.
Tho blacksmith she dismissed at unoe
with a contemptuous "No." Tlie
apothetary met with no better fate. To
him, a thin young man iu spectacles,
she had a strong persona! aversion.
"A i>oor wizened creature always
smelling of his own vile drugs," she
declared turn to be, with many expres
sions of distaste.
The inn keeper, a burly, well to-do
|M<!sounge, a veteran witii an armless
sleeve, did his very best to combat the
objections of his ho]>od-for uiutlicr-lU
law. Hut iu vain.
" Dost think I know no better than
to give my pretty Mariette to a weather
beatru old savage such as thou, Paul
Lemair© 7" said the old lady at la*t, by
way of cliuchtug the argument " And
thou old enough to lie her grandfather,
and a cripple besides! Hah!"
The hero of a doxeu battles was not
uunaturally somewhat offended by
these personalities. Hut lie was too
much a man of the world to lose his
teui|H-r visibly. He only shrugged his
shoulders witn an air of disdain.
"Bo tie it than, madatue, but"—and
this ho knew to be a grand stroke of
rt-veng©—" if it is indeed upon that
young ne'er do well, Jean I*erou, that
you have fixed your heart for a son-in
law, 1 would have you take care. A
brainless youth, such as he, is no fit
protector for mademoiselle, your daugh
ter. And if, at the next conscription,
hi* name should be drawu, that would
be nice for her, would it not? Ah!
11a! a cripple, indeed! It is somethiug
to have fought the battles of one's
country. It is uot every man whore
turns to tell the tale. Jean Lerou!
Ugh'"
The widow was for a moment startled
by this sudden attack, but quickly re
covered herself.
. " And if it is upon Jean Leron that
my choice i* fixed, what business is it
of thine, Monsieur Fire-eater? - ' she
retorted, angrily. " And if the poor
lud should Ih< unlucky enough to be
drawn for the next conscription, dost
think I have not a little bit of money
put away somewhere, in an old shoe,
I* rhaps—eh? Just euottgb to pay for
a substitute, or perhaps a few sous
over ?"
And so th© old soldier was fairly
beaten off the field. It was as he had
said, however.
By a peculiar sympathy, not perhaps
unprecedented between mother and
child, the widow's choice had fallen on
tlie man whom her daugtit* r would cer
tainly have preferred had the matter
been left to her. And the sympathetic
chord must have had a good deal to do
with it, for, with the txosptaou of a
handsome face, and a fine manly figure,
Jean le rou had little to recommend
him as au -ligiti!e />orti for the young
heiress. Hut youth and good looks
have won their wav with pretty maidens
and romantic mothers both before aud
since the time of Widow Dubois and
Marietta. ,
At leaat they were a handsome couple
ev ry one *id that, when the whole
village turned out oi /r/< to celebrate
ttie wedding, and Jeau waa pronounced
on all sides to lw< a fortunate fellow ;
but one who at the same tune would no
doubt prove a kind husband to Mariette,
and a g<*d sou to the widow. Indeed,
a hspj •ler trio, a* time went on, it would
have been difficult to find, until the trto
was one fine day turned into a quart* t,
aud the happiness so increased by at
least one-fourth. Surely never la-fore
had there been such a delighted laiy
fatlier, such a contented child-mother,
and snch an absurdly happy grand
mother. Bnt, unfortunately, it is given
to few in this world to live in a state of
bIiHS, snd soon after the birth of the
little Habette, au occasional cloud ap
neared ou tlie the small
household.
A .N'rtsin change came over the good
mother. Dines of care and anxiety fixed
themselves upon her face. Her very
ehsrseter seemed to change. From the
most open-handed and generous of be
iugs she lavaine close and parsimoni- ,
on, always preaching economy, and
urging upon lar.y, light-hearted Jean
the necessity of working and providing
for Ids wife and family. Humors went
abroad that this change in the widow
was in some war connected with a
scapegrace son of hers, by a former
marriage, of whom no one had heard
for a long while. But of this the widow
said nothiug.
"It was vexations, this freak of the ;
good mother's," said Jean ; but lie wan
mneb too easy going and good-natured
to have any quarrels on the subject.
He would listen to all that tho widow
had to say, make the best resolutions,
and for a few davs carry them out ;
working very steadily on the little farm
which was now, by the widow's gift,
their joint property.
" Times are bad," he would aav.
" The mother is quite right."
Of course he meant to work ; and he
would, nutil the next fair or pilgrimage
proved too strong a temptation for his
new-horn industry, and tiie good reso
lutions were forgotten. Then, too, her
fit of depression past, the natural light
headedness of the Frenchwoman would
return to the good widow, arid rejoicing
in the happiness of her children, she
would join in their small pleasures and
excursions with all her obi zest, the lit
tle ltibette her constant and moat cher
ished companion.
So another year passed on happily
enough in spite of occasional clouds
and threatenings of storms, until one
day a terrible blow fell upon the little
household. The health of tho widow,
never very strong, had been uudor
tniued by secret worry and anxiety. An
epidemic startled the village, and al
most before her children could believe
that she was ill, tho good mother lay
dying.
Then she spoko of this trouble which
had se oppressed her.
"It grieves me, children, that I do
not leave you as I could wish, rich and
independent," she said, holding a hand
of each. " But the last few years have
been sadly disastrous. We have lived ;
we have enjoyed our life, it is true; but
the times linvo been hard. War,
scarcity ; you know of these things, and
then my poor boy, too, must bear his
share of tho blame "
" Dear mother, do uot trouble y ur
self now about these matters," inter
rupted J.an.
"Wo have been so happy," sobbed
Marietta.
" lint 1 must speak, my child," the
wi low went on feebly. "The little that
r. main* is yours. There is the farm.
You inn t exert yourself now. Jean—
y. it must vork for—for her sake. Will
you not?"
"Y mother, yes," said Joan, press
ing tho dying woman's hand.
" And then see in that old bureau is
a little sum put by for thee, Jean,if thou
shouldst be drawn for the oonscription,
'Forms: 52.00 a Year, in Advance.
three hundred franca and more. Hut if
thou shouldst escß|H-, then it is to b© a
dot lor the little Hsbette. Dost hear,
my sou? Here is the key of the
bureau. I'ul it by the cord about thy
neck."
" 1 will do all as yon wish, good
mother."
" Ah, thst is well."
A few more words of tender loving
counsel, and then death came, with a
voice not to Ik! denied, calling th© good
mother from her weeping children, and
from the little home ul which she had
so long been the center and support.
• ••Ass •
Mariette and Jeau had Keen married
just five years, when, in the year 1813,
an order for raining a fresh conscription
of one hundred and twenty thousand
men was issued by th© Kmperor Napo
loon. Each new conscription put the
rural districts of France into a yet
greater state of excitement and agita
tion ; and Dmau was no exoeptien to
the rule. The law waa rigorously
carried out, lb© exemptions allowed so
few, and th© difficulty of obtaining sub
stitutes so much increased, thst each
little household awaited the result with
fear and trembling.
Mariette, of all th© young matrons of
the village, was p<-rh*p* the most un
moved. For, she argued, if the worst
should come, there was at least that
little board of the good mother's in the
old bureau. Jean was safe. Hut as the
time of the conscription approached,
Jean himself ws* strangely restless and
discomposed. Mariette observed it,
and diil her beat to rally him oat of his
depression.
"There is no doubt thst thou wilt
be stile to get a substitute, Jean ?"
she had asked one day, a little anx
iously.
" No—no—" with a sigh.
" Ah, that is well! Then cheer np,
rnon bravr ! Yon are thinking, I
know, about the poor Habette and her
dot. Well, it would be a pity, truly,
that she should lose it. Hut she is
youug yet, yon see ; and if we take this
now, we must save her np another dot
by th© time she wont© it Most we
not ?"
"Ah ! we ar© bo clever at aaving
money, Mariette," returned Jean, rather
bitterly.
The next day waa the one which was
to deeide so many fates. The whole
village was swarming and crowded with
gendarmes. Mariette dismissed her
husband with words of cheer.
The little Habette was that day cot
well, so her mother waa forced to re
main at home as nurse. Hat when Jean
was fairly out of the house. Marietta's
hsart failed her. "If he should be drawn
—if a substitute eonld not b© found—
if—but no." One look at th© old
bureau reassured ber. Th© remem
brance of her mother's loving car©
seemed to stand as a bulwark Iwtween
her and ail possible trouble. " Thank*
to the good mother, all will be right,"
she murmured, though her tears felL
She was almost a child still
The two years that had gone by since
the mother's death had not produced
any great change either in the yonng
oonple cr their mode of life. Eaonomy
and industry were not natural to cither
of them, and for the rest if they were
happy and enjoyed themselyes, and
entild only find money enough to pay
those dreadful war taxes as the time
came round, what did it matter whether
thev were rich or p#or? So Mariette
argued, when sometime* Jean looked
serious and complained of the hardness
of the times. If the sun would shine
always, and Bsl>ette be always smnsing
and good, they oonUl want nothing
mors, Marn tte thought
It was late in the evening before Jean
returned home, and the first sight of
his wan, white face almost frightened
Mariette out of ber aeuaea.
" What * it ?" she asked. " What
has happened ?"
" It's all over, Mariette. I must go
—I am drawn."
"You go—you !" echoed the young
wife, "Are you mad, Jean? la it
poaaible that you can get no substitute?
Jean, answer me, for pity's sake," a* he
still made no reply.
" Yea —yes, if 1 could pay him, there
is Joseph", the woodman's son, would
willingly take my plaoe, but "
"But why talk of money. Jean?
Where ia the key of the bureau ? Don't
dvlav a momeut," cried Mariette, ex
citedly.
" 'l'Le key—oh I yes—the key. It—
that is —I forget."
" No, no Jean, here it ia. What are
yon thinking of? Here it i round yonr
neck."
But as her fingers touched the key,
Jean's hand grasp* hers, and holds it so
tightly that bo hurts her.
" Jean, what it it ?"
For a second their eyes meet, and
then there crosses ibc young wife'e
heart such s spasm of Wrrwr and doubt
that she calls out as if in pain. Jean
drops her hand.
" It is no good looking, Mariette," he
said, after a moment's pause, in s
strange hoarse voice. " Yon will find
nothing. The money is—spent."
Marietta could only gaze at him in a
kind of blank stupor."
"Spent, Marietta. I>o yon hear?
Do you understand ?" and suddenly
Jean* leaning his bead on bit hands,
burst into a storm of passionate tear*.
" God forgive me," be cried, " I hare
robbed the child and ruined us all.
Why don't yon speak. Marietta? Say
something, if only to reproach me."
Then Marietta* found words—not of
reproach, but of loving wifely counsel
and help. In a moment she seemed
transformed. A child no longer, the
old things were put sway forever. The
old spirit of careless happiness, of
blind reliance, was indeed fled, but in
its place a nobUr rp'rit had taken up
its abode within her- .sp ; rit that could
suffer and dare and endu. . She was a
woman at last.
A woman very fnll of strong earnest
purpose, any one would have said who
HAW her the morning after thew eventa,
leaving her hotiae at daybreak, Mealing
away from her still sleeping husband,
her child by her aide, and on her arm a
haaket in which were carefully atowed
away all the email treasures which ahe
]to*se*aed —her croaa of Breton work,
her gold earringa, and her ailver chain.
"Jean, we muat And the money,"
alio hud aaid to her huabaud the night
before, when he had beoome calmer.
" Where ?" Jean had aaked drearily.
On© hundred, ay, even perhaps two
hundred franos it might be possible yet
to raiae upon the farm, he had aaid af
ter awhile, but three hundred—no —
there was no help for it, he muat go.
" For the sake of a hundred franca?
No, no, Jean," Marietta had returned
cheerily. " I will get yon that—leave
it to me."
But to her consternation, when all
are disposed of—croaa, earringa, chain,
and even her wedding shawl—ahe is
not yet half way toward the hundred
franca. What can ahe do ? To return
home without the money is impossible
—impossible, she repeats, as she walks
wearily up and down the one street in
the little market town where she has
taken her wares. Bhe stops opposite a
window that had attracted her more
than once. It is that of an artiste en
chcveux. Mariette's liair has always
l>eeu considered one of her especial
beauties. Now the thought comes to
licr again and again that by it ahe
might raiae the required snm. But
could ahe possibly bring herself to
NO. 30.
make this sacrifice ? She hesitates ;
draws back ; it is to save her husband.
Hbe will!
Clasping her child'* hand tightly In
iters aa if for protection, she enters the
.hop, and liefore the old artiste can ask
her pleasure, lets fall a mass of soft
brown silk atmut her shoulders.
" What will you give me for it?" the
asks, with a I •eating heart.
"Huty francs, madame," returns the
| old man, after a critical inspection. It
is the sum she wants.
" Cut it, cut it, and be quick," she
cries, eagerly.
Ttie work of destruction does not take
long. A few momenta in tbe barber's
chair, a few clip* of tbe aeiaaor*. and
the brown silken glory is lost to Mari
etta forever.
Hdently she submitted to the process
with a meek patience that had some
thing of a martyr spirit in it, Habetta
j in the meantime making a delightful
: tour of discovery round the room among
the wigs and pomades and paraphernalia
of the barber's art, until all at onoe the
1 child catches sight, ie a mirror, of her
, mother's altered appearauoe. Hh*
rushed to her with a scream of horror
" Oh, inatntna ! mamma ! what baa
the wicked man done!" she tried, in
great distress. " Be has taken my
mamma away, and left me an ugly—ok!
quite an ugly mamma instead "
Th-n, and then only, Marietta's heart
failed her. The martyr and the heroine
were all forgotten, and the iunootut
vanity of tin woman's nature rose to
the surface. Her tears fell fast What
iia<l she lost ? One terrible fear took
possession of her. Tbe ehild said abe
was ugly now. Would Jean—would her
kuabaud think ao too f What if this
sacrifice, made ao willingly for his sake,
should turn his love awsy* from her 1
Not all the old artiste's polite speech
es and well-turned compliments, nor
even the eoiuwuouaueas that in her
pocket she carried the price of her bus
band's liberty, could console her, or
banish this new and haunting do-ad
from her mind. She needed to feel
Jean's arm about her, to hear from his
own lips tbe assurances of his no
changed love—then every doubt was
chased awsy.
" My own brave noble girl, you are a
thousand times more beautiful in my
eves than ever before," be cried, when
she had told him all. " But it is too
much. I have not deserved such un
selfish devotion at this."
•• No, no, Jean, not that," said poor
cropped "Marietta, smiling through
many tears. "It was all asuiishnesa. I
have kept what I lored beak It was to
keep you, dear."
How the husband and wife settled
this knotty point history saith not, bat
it is well known that from this time a
great change took place both in Jean
and Marietta. Industrious and pru
dent where before they bad been care
less and extravagant, they soon became
one of the most thriving couples in
Dinan, and the little Bsbetta, as years
went on, grew up to be, like her mother
before her, not only the prettiest girl,
but the richest heiress of the village.
As for Marietta's hair—that grew too.
Pay of Editor*.
In Sew York, says Jsmcs Partem, the
editorial faroe of a daily paper, fully
equipped, conaiats of aboul fifty indi
viduals, of whom at leant twelve receive
compensation which approaches that of
the lower grades of the other liberal
profession* The yreaa has advanced
so far in litis one city of the western
continent that a competent #:d sell
trained journalist receives i large a
compensation as a lawyer, doctor, or
clergyman of the fonrtb I ink, and
near ly enough to par the rrr of a small
bouse ia a second-rate nei/iiborbood.
This ia a considerable advance from
the time when Horace Greeley let Mr.
lUrmond leave the 7Wtwfie rather than
add five dollars te his weekly stipend of
tweety. The editor-in-ehief of a New
York daily paper of the first rank
receives frem four to eight thousand
dollars a year, with the asaiatanoe of a
short-hand reporter and the une of a
cab. Uia leading assistants receive
about half as much. In London, aa Mr.
James Grant informs us, the estab
lished salary of the editor of a morning
paper—always excepting the pnnce.y
Times—is a thousand guineas a year.
There is not likely to be for some time
to oome more than one newspaper in
any country that can safely go mnch
beyond this scale of compensation.
And, indeed, it ia almost high enongh
to admit of the gradual formation of a
corps capable of holding its own against
the dense swarm of lies always strug
gling or scheming for admittance into
the press. In every service under the
sun the rank and file must of necessity
work bard for little pay. It is only
necessarv to hare a few great prises to
stimulate the whole body by rewarding
the excellent few.
Sad Death of a Ye. eg (Hrl,
In the quiet cemetery enclosure at
La Motto, says the Dubuque Hertui,
the sods were turned over tbe grave
of the lamented Miss Ellen Wiiaon,
only daughter of Mr. Wilson, poatmas
ter "and merchant of that place. We
learn that prolonged grief for the death
of her mother, which event took place
a year ago last January, had produced
mental aberration, from which terrible
condition death appears ao often to bo
the only door of relief. Her father and
brothers had, it seema, done every
thing that affection could suggest to
wean her from this corroding sorrow,
but all in vain. Change of society and
scones had boon resorted to, but noth
ing served to lift more than for a mo
ment the dark cloud that had settled
down upon her vouug heart. On the
morning of her last day in life she had
attended to the usual household duties
with most scrupulous exactness, even
to the minutest details, and had pre
pared her own raiment as chough for
the terrible sacrifice she was about to
make. She selected such dresses as
she wished to be buried in, laid them
out upon the bed in an upper chamber,
wrote a touching note of farewell to
her father, and then laid down upon the
floor, parted her dress over her heart,
and with fatal precision sent the leaden
messenger of death on its way. The
revolver she used was her brother's.
She had discharged it once in the early
morning, carelessly remarking that she
was getting in practice." It was fonnd
on the floor under the body, as though
in the last moment she had sought to
secrete the instrument of her death.
His Will.
We mentioned that the late J. Edgar
Thompson, President of the Pennsyl
vania Central Railroad, after providing
far his wife and four relatives, gives
the rest of his estate in truat for the
eduoation and maintenance of the fe
male orphans of railway employes who
may have been killed while in the dis
charge of their duties. Preference is
to be given, first, to tho orphans of the
employes engaged upon the Pennsylva
nia Railroad ; second, to those of the
Georgia Railroad, bet ween Augusta and
Atlanta, Georgia; third, to those of the
lines controlled by the Pennsylvania
Railroad, by lease or otherwiso; fourth,
to those of employes of any other rail
road company of the United States of
America. The estate is valued at $2,-
000,000.
! IfN* of littimt.
' The mmßew-Uil coat is In danget.
Th*> C**r danced In • frock-cost 11
in England.
An ifir**lira genius In Ohio pro
|k>mm t furutah horses with falae teeth,
' so as to omoMi their ago.
A man went out the other night to
w if he eonld ascertain the color of
the wind, and found it blew.
Onr Borrow* are ltke thunder clouds,
winch wem black in tlia distance, but
grow lighter aa they approach.
It ia faahionable is England to jam
fence* for exercise, bat eery rolgar
iiaw wood for the aame thing.
A fatal epiaootio amorg dneka ia
Nometiiiog to be dsad-dnck-ted from
farmer'* profits in Pennsylvania.
An IHtuoie hrmwr boa two aona and
three daughter*. *od the girl* help
v.ork the farm while the boy* are at
oollega.
Oeorge logetla, Hhaker c 4 Warren
rille, Ohio, Uaa spoiled hi* imputation
na a man of peace by half killing two
burglar* in a midnight encounter.
The ooet of the new eapitol building
at Hartford, with ail the improvement*.
wiU lie aometbing ovar SI BOO 000, af
which fl .000,000 baa already been appro
prisied by the titata.
The oombinad oonaeqneneea of oara
leeaneaa and ignorance arc aeen in the
aeorea of letter* dropped into the post
offloe every d*y misdirected or without
portage stamps.
The English poatal ay a tens ia ao tbor
ongh that a misdirected letter will re
lentlessly ehaae a man from end to tad
of the British dominioaa, and never
give up till it find* him or hi* corpse.
Oilcloth*, if well rubbed with •
woolen eloth and warm water, with the
addition of a little akimmed milk, if
convenient, will look nearly a* fresh aa
new. Scrubbing brushes and strong
soap are ruinous tothem.
"Do yoa understand the English
language 1" said a McLean county man
the other day, addressing a lightning
rod agent. " I do," replied the agent.
*• Then understand me, I don't want
any of your rods " The lightning man
somewhat electrified, drove on.
It is noteworthy that in every in
stance in which persons bitten by mad
dogs daring the pant six months hsve
died of hydrophobia the dog inflicting
ihe wound baa been a household pet.
The street dogs have inoculated no one
with hydrophobia, ao far as known.
The Urges! room in the world nnder
s single roof, unbroken by pillars or
other obstructions, is at Sk Peters
burg, in liusaia ; and ia 650 feet long
and 150 feet wide. It ia used for mili
tary displays in rough weather, and can
be converted into a ballroom at aigbk
James Lick, who has given $700,000
for the establishment of an obaervmtory
in California, has only a superficial
knowledge of astronomy. He ia said to
have selected that subject for bi*
munificence because he thought it waa
receiving leea attention than other
branches of science.
There was a good deal of meaning >u
the old word " schoolmaster," as c m
pared with the more euphonious title
"teacher." An old-fatniond peda
gogue expected his boys to puzxle out
things for themselves. He seldom al
lowed them to make use of his brain*
when they could employ their own.
A mason, in pulling down a chimney
at Lewiston, recently, unearthed a
whiskey barrel, which waa sealed up in
brickwork. A brick waa ao placed aa
to be removed, admitting the thirsty
oomer to a faucet whence the elixir
eonld be drawn. Tkere waa, doubt
less, so arrangement above to fill the
barrel.
It i* mentioned aa a remarkable feet
that Vaaasr College, designed for the
highest culture of women, baa newer
reorired a bequest from a woman,
though wealthy women are continually
extending liberal support to other and
older colleges. Vasear College was
founded by a man, and thus far has
been aided by men only.
It is not often that a brother and
sister get :mk together, but Henry
and Esther Maine did it in LoulsTille,
their spree lasting a seek, eoat'ug two
hand red dollars, and ending in Henry's
arrest for disorder and Esther's almost
fatal illness. Nor were they before
tbeir osiouM eery low is the social
scale, being the children of reputable
and well-to-do parents.
The Lancaster (Penn.) Examiner
tells what it knows about the height of
meanness. It say* : There are things
in human ahspe, whom, through for
tuitous circumstances si one, it becomes
obligatory to class with humanity. One
of these despicable blots of creation
the other day emptied a bucketful of
poUto-bogs on Mr. Cyrus Kleiser's lot,
at Lebanon. This lot had escaped the
ravages of the pest, bat that, it seemed,
constituted the offense.
Soeae in a graveyard. Wife—"Ah
husband, do you see thia beautiful cap
ping? How delicately cnt is the pure
white stone r "Yes, very pretty."
Wife—"Bat, William, have yon no
taate for art; „ you don't enjoy these
things aa I do. Just notice this slen
der column of marble, with the touch
ing q nest ion so beautifully carved, 'Do
they mi me at home?'" "Yes. I
see ; and here is her name on \ho foot
stone, 'G. A. B.' Yea, I guese they
miaa her if that was her name." Silence
for a moment.
A Blind Artor.
A most remarkable fact connected
with the Meiningen court company is
that one of tbe principal players, Herr
IVeilenbeck, who took the part of Pope
Sixtns, has been perfectly blind for the
last three years. Few people who at
tend the performances ever imagined
for a moment, however, that the actor
who moved with such ease and precis
ion on tbe stage before them did not see
the scenes around him. Fortunately
for him hi* affliction did not oome upon
him until be had been for some years
a member of the Meiningen troupe, so
that he knew the boards by heart when
blindness clhie upon hiss. His col
leagues are very devoted to him. When
ever a new piece is to be giw® they
undertake many rehearsals m order to
make the blind actor feel at home in his
new rote. The drama of " Pope Six
tns" was quite new to him; snd s
critic who knew of his affliction wrote
how he trembled for fear of the actor
making a false step. But he moved
about and ascended the throne with
safety and dignity. " Since my eyes
died," said the actor to the critic, " I
see everything clearer with tbe nerves
of the brain. Life concentrates iteelf
in my head undisturbed by the external
worla, which for mo no longer exists.
Wei 1-übeck is a man ol intellect, having
enjoyed a scholarly education in his
youth. He is the son of an Austrian
councillor, now deceased, and has al
ways moved in the highest society. His
father died only a few years ago, with
out knowing of the sad sfflictien that
had overtaken his son, who by means
of a mechanical arrangement and the
assistance of a servant, wrote letters to
him up to his death. The Duke of
Meiningen settled a pension on this
remarkable actor some years ago, so
that his future is provided for.
A Box Trick.
A seedy-looking stranger, with an
innocent oountenanoe, took out a small
wooden box, aDd after taking a chew of
tobacco from it he remarked that the
box was once the property of George
Washington. The crowd exhibited a
lively interest, and after several persons
had opened and shut the box it all at
once refused to open. " Here, take it
so," said the stranger, whipping off the
oover. They tried to " take it so," got
mad, and when he offered to bet that no
one in the crowd oonld open the box
there were more greenbacks shoved at
him than he could take care of. He
quietly am red half a dozen bets,
handed out the box, and there wasn't a
man in the crowd who could get the
cover ofT. They wriggled, twisted aad
swore, and as the stranger dropped it
into his pocket and walked off he re
marked : "Very singular box—very."
Nobody suspected that it was the old
trick until he bad reaped his harvest.