Rood Night. flood nigbt 1 I h*ve to say good right To *uch a host of prarlsas tilings flood night unto tl *1 fr* ,le hand AU qnseuly with its no-hi of rings . flood night to fond, uplifted >< *. flood night to chestnut braid* of hair, flood night unto the perfect mouth, And all the swaetnees nestled there The snowy hand detains me, then I'll have to * flood night again. Bat there wit! corn* a time, ray iove. When, if I read our state aright, 1 ah all not linger hv this porch With my adieus, till than, good night' Ton erfaa the time WWW IN ? And I, Ton do net bluah to wish it so ' Ton would hare Mtiehed yourself to death To own #o much a year sgo Whet, both these snoy hands: ah, then I'ii have to say flood night again ' Summer's Bono. Along the wayside and up the hills The golden rod flames'in the aun , The blue-eyed gentian innl* good-by To the ead UtUe brooks that run ; Aud eo summer*! done, said 1, Sum mi r'e done ' In yellowing wo.-da the chestnut drop*. The squirrel gels galore. Though bright-eyed !*d and little maids Rob him of half his store ; And o snnime: '# o'er, said 1, Summer's o'er' The maple in the swamp 1-egins To flaunt in gold and red. And in the eim the lire- bird's uest Swings empty overhead ; And so summer s dead, said I. Summer's doad ' The barberry baugs her jewels out. And guards them *uh a thorn ' The merry farmer boys cut dowu The J*x>r, old dned up corn , And eo summer's gone, said I, Summer's gone ' The swallows and the bobolinks Are gone ihut many a day, Rut in the morning still you hear The scolding swaggering jay 1 And eo summer's away, aaid I, Summer's away ! A wonderful glory ills the air, And lug and bright is the eutl ; A loving hand for the whole brown earth A garment of beauty has spun ; But for all that, summer's done, aaid I, Summer's done ! ALL AN ACCIDENT. A Strange Stor J . If was at the opera. An opera-glass had fallen from utie of the upper boxes on the t cad of a gentleman sitting in the stails. Now I had seen the glass fall; had seen a ronud, white, braoeleted arm and a gloved hand stretched out to arrest, as it seemed to me, its descent. It was all done iu a moment. The gentleman upon whose head the glass had descended had been carried into the lobby. An ugly wound had been inflicted. He was not killed, but gradually re vived, aud tamed his head toward me. I knew him—it was Stericker. Then he moved a tremulous hand in my direction. He knew me, it seemed. He tried to speak ; but it was some time before he could utter any intelli gent sound. At last we discovered his meaning. He bad lost something which he desired us, meaning myself and by standers, to search for. Search was instituted accordingly. After a while, very near to the stall he had occupied, there was picked up—a glass eye! He was gratified at the recovery of his glass eye, but something else was missing and that was soon found—a curious-looking stud ; it was not pearl exactly. It was of an oblong shape, milky white, and semi-transparent, in a handsome setting of brilliants. Stericker expressed great satisfaction, in a rather incoherent way. that the stud had been found. He clearly prized it highly. "It was a nasty shock to a fellow," said Stericker, not long after this, as we talked the matter over. I quite agreed that it must have been a very nasty shock—a most unfortu nate accident. At tnis he laughed . rather wildly. " Whatever you call it, don't call it that," he said. " You mean that it was not an ac cident ?" It appears that he did mean that. " But I saw the glass fall," I said. " You mean that you saw her throw it dowm!" " Saw ? Who ?" I demanded, un consciously adopting the interrogatives of Hamlet. " Arabella!' 1 thought him wandering in his mind. I knew nothing of Arabella. I could not remember that I had ever en countered, out of works of fiction, any woman of that name. And then I came to auk myself what, after all, did I really know of Stericker himself ? In truth, it was very little. "It was Arabella's doing, of course." he continued. " I know that very welL I know the opera-glass, for the "matter of that. I ought to. I gave it to her." Where I had first met Stericker I am by no means clear. lam almost cer tain that I was never formally intro duced to him. But I had seen Mm at various places upon numberless occa sions, until I seemed to have acquired quite a habit of seeing him. So at last—the thing was becoming quite ab surd—there was DO help for it but to recognize him as an acquaintance, at any rate. Finding each other so fre quently face to face in the same place, beneath the same roof, and even at the same table, what could we do, eventu ally, but laugh and nod, and say, " What! you here ?" And then we shook hands. Still I protest that I knew little of him beyond what he told me. And now had occurred this accident at the opera-bouse, confirming as it were my acquaintance with Stericker, and converting it almost into a friend ship. He expressed great gratitude for the assistance I had rendered him, although, in truth, it had been little enough. But again and again he thanked me, and presently, his wounded head having been skillfully dealt with and relieved by the application of strips of plaster, I found myself at his lodg ings in Half-moon street, sitting in an easy chair, smoking a cigar and drink ing a temperance mixture of brandy and water. Until ttien I had never really known where Stericker lived. " And you saw her throw down the opera-glass?" he said, returning to the subject of the accident. I corrected him. I had seen no such thing. But he did not pay much attention to what I said. "And how did she look? Hand ome, of coarse. She was always that; though she certainly is not now nearly so youug as when I first met her—and loved her. For what could I do then but love her? " There can be no mistake about an attack of love any more than about a fit of the gout. I have suffered from both afflictions. In my time I have loved a good deal, and I have, in re turn, been loved very much indeed. I say it without vanity. "I have loved and been loved," he repeated, " aud, I don't mind owning, I have in my time jilted and been jilted." He said this with a morbid Don Giovanni air, that I thought par ticularly objectionable. "Arabellajilted me," he resumed, " and haa nevei for given herself for it, nor me either. Hew fair she was in those days ! She's fair still, for that matter, though she uses more pearl-powder now than she did. Fair, but false. Women are often that, you know. Shall I say always?" I deprecated such an assertion. Ac cording to my experience, it was far toe •weeping. He conceded that I was right, possibly. Tet, it seemed to me that he despised me for my modera tion. " You remarked this stud ?" He pro duced the stud we had searched for at his request, and found in the lobby sf K11K1). KUHTZ, Kditornnd 1 VopriHor. VOL. Ml. the opera-house, "It would lmvo panted me very much if 1 had hwt it, 1 regard it #n a precious rolio. It le - Arabella, ouoc. lu fact why ahould 1 disguise tlu* truth from you—that atud is formed out of one of Arabella's front tooth !" Ilia smile as he aaid this wan not pleasant to contemplate. Ilia eoufea aion had oertamlv startled me. There aus something dreadful about it, aud ho had the air of an Indian brave x --hibitiug a scalp. He gloried in the possession of Arabella'* front tooth! How had he obtained it? 1 ventured to demand. Wa* it a pledge of affoc tion ? Could they possibly have ex changed teeth as ordinary lovers ex change locks of hair ? I hardly huow what 1 was saying, or of what I was thinking. " I was a dentist in those days," he said. What he had been before that, and sinoo ; what profession he followed at the moment of his addressing me, 1 really hail no idea. " And Arabella was one of my patients. But she was no or dinary patient. She was something more, much more than that. She was for awhile my aitiauoed bride. I loved her, and she loved me—at least we thought that we loved each other." " And vou didn't?" " Well, we didn't, a* it happened, love each other mute so much a* we thought we did. lu fact, both were dis appointed, and perhaps a trifle de ceived. She thought 1 hail money ; I hadn't. I had beeu told that she was an heiress. Well, she was nothing of the kind. Still, lam a man of integ rity, though vsu may not think it. I hail promised marriage; I fully pur posed to be as goad as my word. The idea of terminating our engagement did not come from me. But Arabella's temper was imperfect; she waa far from patient; she was ambitious, and, I roust add, avaricious and deceitful. She trifled with me. She still held me enchained, but she encouraged the ad dresses of another and a wealthier suitor. She designed to employ uie merely as a means of irritating his jealousy, and of stimulating him to de clare himself. Tuen 1 was to be flung aside as something worthless, because I had served her purpose aud was done with. In good time I discovered her treachery. I had intercepted her let ters—no matter how—and I knew all. Bat of that she entertained no sort of suspicion. She had always fond smiles for me, and false words and Artificial caresses. It was maddening. Well, she was, as I have said, my patient ; and she suffered much from toothache. She came to me iu order that I might extract a tooth that pained her. It wa* arranged that the operation should be performed under the influence of chlo roform. " He paused. " But surely you didn't- " " Hear me out," he said, and he smiled, I thought, horribly. "It wa* accident, of course, pure accident. I was dreadfully nervous. Was that sur prising? I loved her, aud she was amazingly beautiful. It was accident, as I have said, or cali it, if yon will, an error of judgment, but nothing worse than that, as you value my friendship." (As a matter of fact 1 did not value his friendship in the slightest degree, but I did not say so.) "My conduct, I do assure you, was strictly professional. I did not even kiss her ; but I extracted the wrong tooth." " That was your vengeance," I inter jected. " No. She said so ; but it wasn't true. I extracted, as I believed, the tooth she had pointed out, desiring me to extract it. Was it my fault that it wa* a perfectly sound tooth, and a front one, too ? She said it was ; but women, you know, arc not reasonable in sueh cases. I was a dentist then, with a reputation to lose ; I was a lover then, though a decsirtd one. However,there was no pacifying Arabella. She was persuaded that I had done it on pur pose. She was most violent. She had predetermined upon a quarrel with me, although she had not perhaps fixed upon the precise period for its occur rence. Well, she brought it on then. It was an awfnl scene. How she abused me! What language she permitted herself! How she screamed ! What hysterics she went into ! However, the tooth was out, there was no mistake about that." * Here he smiled again, most malevo lently, as it seemed to me. " iler treachery toward me was punished, although, as I have stated, by pure accident or error of judgment, which you please. But Arabella vowed vengeance against me. In that respect I am bound to say she has beon as good as her word. It's no thanks to her that I am living to speak of these things to-night." " Then yon really believe that she let fall the opera-glass ou purpose ?" "I am quite satisfied of it. She meant my death. She knew I was there. I had noticed her before lean ing out of her box, and taking note of my position. I was jnst thinking of changing it, suspecting what might happen, when I was struck down. Ara bella is a w*inan who knows what sho is about. She was always that kind of woman. I know her. I've good reason to. And it's not the first time she s planned to punish me as savagely as she could. You did not know until to night perhaps that one of my eyes was artificial ? No ! naturally you didn't. Well, that was her doing." " What ? Tlie artificial eye ?" "Don't be so stupid," he aaid, rude ly. No doubt I had been rather ob tuse ; but I had heard of ladies paint ing ou glass and doing pitiehomanie and other strange things in the way of fancy work, and for the moment, alto gether, my mind was in rather a con fused state. "No," Sterieker continued, "but I owe to her the necessity for wearing an artificial eye. It happened at the flower show in the Botanical Gardens. There was a dense crowd. It was in the ten where the pelargoniums are exhibited. Not that I care about such things, but it so happened. A lady advanced with her parasol held in front of her. Sud denly she seemed to thrust it at me, as a lancer.might his lance. Her aim was wonderfully true. The sight of my left eye was gone forever. It was quite a mercy that the spike of her parasol did not penetrate to my brain. That was Arabella's doing, of course. Port of her revenge." " And eke said nothing ?" " She said calmly, ' I beg your par don. It was an accident,' and passed on. She looked very handsome. She was superbly dressed. However, that Bhe always is. Her husband is old, but amazingly rich. He labors to gratify her slightest whim—so I'm told. But her only desire -the sole passion of her life—is to wreak her vengeance upon me. I feel that. She cannot forget, much less forgive, the loss of her front tooth. You see, she's reminded of that happy business every time she looks in the glass, which she does frequently, of course. She was always vain. And she means, sooner or later, to be the death of me, that's quite clear. She's made two very good attempts ; at the Botanical Gardens, and to-night at the opera. The third time perhaps she'll succeed." "But doesn't the thought horrify you f" "I accept my destiny," Stericker said, smiling, and with rather an affect- THE CENTRE REPORTER. Ed air. "It would l>o something to fall by the hand ol such u woman as that ; fliat would be my consolation ; really a flue creature you know, although no longer m the bloom of youth ; indeed, removed some distance uow from the bloom of youth, but still gram! and beautiful, and so resolute 1 If she had loved lu. as she hates me 1" " You love her still, then ?" " Well; n>t HMWD. Bit I admire her, just as 1 auaiire the Bengal tigress m the ZIK. If possible, t should like Arabella to be caged like the tigress ; but as that can't be well, I wear tins stud as a meuieuto of her, and for the r*st I take my chance. Now, what will you take? Another cigar ? No? Some more brandv and water? ' No. 1 would take nothing more. 1 had, in point of fact, already taken more than wa, absolutely necessary for me, 1 left Stericker. 1 was much im pressed by uiy experiences of that night, by what had happened at the opera, sud hi* extraordinary narrative touching the vengeance of Arabella. Was it true ? 1 was really not in a state of mind to determine. Even uow 1 have a difficulty at arriving at any ds* tiuct conclusion ou the subject. But 1 know that Stericker's face wore, to my thinking, a very remarkable expression as 1 quitted him. 11 is smile was simply awful. Aud strauge to say -at least, 1 tbiuk so, though it may not strike others in that light—l uever saw Ster icker again, lie died shortly after ward, as 1 read in the newspapers, the vidua of a street accident. He was knocked down and ran over in Hyde Bark, bv a pony phmton, driven by a lacy, 'there was, of course, an inquest npou his remaius, the jury deciding, however, that he met his death " bv misadventure." Some attempt had been made to hold the lady responsible, and to charge her with furious driving. But nothing of the kind was sustained l>efore the coroner. Various witnesses gave evidence, acquitting her of all blame in the matter. Her conduct in court was said to lie most becoming. Aud it was reported that, attired lu very deep mourning, she had followed Stericker's body to its last resting place in Bromptou cemetery. Now, was this lady the Arabella of Stericker's story ? She may have been. But I have uo cer tain evidence of the fact. Nor, indeed, have I anything further to communi cate touching the life and death of my acquaintance Stericker. Fur Trimmings. Fur borders will be very fashionable this winter, a fashion journal says, for trimming cloaks, sacques, polonaises, and costumes. Imported velvet, mate lasse, and camel's-hair garments have deep fur collars aud much wider bord ers than those used last winter. Furri ers ray that these wide borders will be coufined to furs of close short pile, a* the light long fleece of such fur as the silver-fox loses its fluffy beauty when left in a compact mas*. As this fur is very costly. it is a fortunate thing that it looks prettiest iu it* narrow width*, such as only half an inch of pelt, which will make about three inches of trim ming on it* right side. Silver-fox borders cost from sl2 to sls a yard, and are probably the most stylish of all far trimming-'. Garments bordered with fur usually have a muff to match made of the material of the garment, aud trimmed on each end with a fur border. Chinchilla trimming is also iu great favor, and costs from $5 to sl6 a yard. This is a!so much used for trim ming children's cloaks. Black marten borders cost from $2 to sl, according to their width. Gentlemen will have their long Ulster overcoat* of gray and black Elysian beaver cloth trimmed with a border of gray kritnmer or of black Persiani. The white grelie trim mings so pretty for children's wraps are given a new effect by being cut across the skin so that the brown bars are lengthwise on the white feathery surface. These cost $5 a yard. Fur linings are considered soft, warm, aud luxurious for carriage wraps of black gro* grain or cashmere, and far jackets of silk or velvet An objec tion to them, however, is that they are apt to rub off on wool dresses, ou vel vet of long pile, and, indeed, on smooth silks. The pretty gray squirrel-lock fur with white ground on which gray tabs are sewed in rows is leant apt to rub off, and is most used for linings. Garments lined with fur are seldom trimmed outside, their lining being considered suflicient in the way of orna ment ; and this is fortunate, ns the lining adds greatly to the ex)ene. About $75 is the furrier's charge for lining the large circulars used as car riage wraps, and from $45 to S6O is asked for lining the smaller garments with sleeves. The Waj in Wyoming, A Fort Lar/unie letter t > the Cincin nati Commercial tells ns the following: The shooters were a queer lot. Home arrant cowards, other* not. Home brave under peculiar circumstances, such as a street fight or a promiscuous shooting, and sneaking when " the t'other fellow had the drop," or when tackled by anything out of their parti cular line. I asked Dave Heed " How did you happen to kill ' Heeuan ?' " " Why, I fired a little Derringer I had from my pants pocket." " But what was the cause of it?" "Well, you see, he uiought ho was chief, and I know'd he wasn't; and one day I was drinking at the Star Sample Rooms and he came up to me, and I seed business in his eye. I fooled him. You see I htuj my hand in my pants pocket; I didn't have no six-shooter siting to me. He wanted to know if he couldn't pet awujp with any fellow who hed tow hair ; I've got light hair, yon see ; I allowed he might if he had the drop ; he allowed 1 was a liar ; and I jest shoved my pocket easy agin his belly and turned loose. Home of the boys talked a little rough about it, but thy know'd Hecnan meant to call me that day ; be said so ; the only differ ence was I hed the best hand. The authorities 1" And Mr. Dave's chuckle implied anything but a profound re spect for the powers that wi re of that burgh. "Oh thunder ! Do you sup pose them fellers dare touch me when I hed such a clear case of self-defence ?" Ho it was. Cases like this conld be told by the scores, and worse. There were many in which the coroner was called, if convenient, and the verdict rendered, " Killed by party or parties unknown." As for highway robbery, it was as little thought of as taking a drink. No one thought of going out at night with any amount of money on the person. Toward midnight none but the most venturesome went into the streets alone, and then armed and care fully uvoiding the sidewalks. A BOUNTTFCI, llcsnAND.—How com fortable for a young wife to feel that her husband is a bountiful provider,and that she will never want for the neces saries of life. A newly married man was recently directed by his wife to order some yeast, and not having a very well defined idea of the article, he told the baker to send up three dollars' worth. At nine o'clock next morning three men might have been seen tug ging a cask of yeast up the front steps ol that man's house. CKXTllft HALL, CKNTKL CO., PA.. TIIIUSDAY, NOV KM BEK 5, 1874. Till KM V> 0> FAttniMi. Tfe# lo lit* Unit AgiUullHi*l aiiil Mrrluiili •! Hull. Senator Thurman, of Ohio, delivered nit address at the State Fair lieforc the Maivlaud Agricultural aud Mechanical Association. Mr. Thuruian quoted numerous authorities ou the snbjqet of agriculture, tracing front the r ?oord# of Greece, Home, Egypt, India aud Obiua the gradually increasing interest tu the prisluotioua of the soil down to the nineteenth oeutury.the era of soien title troatflieut of steam plows, respmg machines and fertiliser*. We flint IU our libraries, ho said, work# ou agri eulture, writtin before ttie Christian era, from which inatrnctiou may be de rived by the most enlightened and skill ful farmer of to-day. What should be the size of a farm ; what its propor tions of arable pasture, meadow ami woodland ; what eropaaud manures are l>eat suited to different soils, what ad vantages are derived from open ami un derground drainage ; when should irn gatiou lie practiced and what are its re sults ; what are the benefits derived from land lying fallow, from deep and frequent plowing* ; from a rotation of crops ; from tnrniug under green grasses; from burning the stubble are questions, among many, discussed in these works, and which are subjects of vet more elaborate discussion after a lapse of more tliau two thousand years. Ido not propose to discuss the question *' How minute should bo the subdivision of the land ? ' or iu other words, " What is the beat average size of farms? ' but i wish to say that the evil of farms of too great size iu our country is much lessthau seems to be generally supposed, aud is steadily diminishing from year to year,as is con clusively shown by our census reports. Thus, of the whole number of farms in 1860 nearly 41 per cent, were farms of less than fifty acres each; of the whole number iu 1 *7O nearly 50 per cent, eoutatned less than fifty acre# each. In 1860, 70j| per cent, were un der 100 acres; in 1860, 78 per cent, i let wee u iMlOand 1870' he number of farms of three acres aud under tea was more than doubled ; those of ten acre# and under twenty increased from 162,* 178 to 294,607 ; over 81 per cent. Those of twenty acres and under fifty from 616,558 to 817,614, equal to 07 j per cent, nearly ; those of fiity and under 100 acres from 608,878 to 754,251,24 |>er cent, nearly ; those of 100 nml under 500 from 487,041 to 565,054, equal to 16 percent,; while those of 500 acres aud under 1,000 decreased from 20,216 to 15,833. auil those of 1,01*) acres ami up ward fell from 5,634 to 3,720. It is thus apparant that the small farms multiply much more rapidly than the large one#, and that the smaller they are the greater is the ratio of their increase, while the number of the very largo ones, instead of increasing, is undergoing a rapid diminution. The economist will find in these facts some alleviation of hi* fear that our lau is will be too much engrossed, while the statesman, observing how large a pn>- ixirtion of farms are owned by their cultivators,will see iu thi* happy cir euinstance one of the m<>#t powerful conserrafors of peace, order, freedom and good and stable government. I am neither n optimist nor an en thusiast, but, despite the clouds thst low-r o'er our horizon, I think that 1 can sec a future for our country more pro#j>#rou and happy than lis* yet be fallen any portion of the human race. I think that I can see more bread for the hungry, moro education for the ignorant, more enjoyment forthe wearv, more respect for labor, a more widely diffused intelligence and a greater material and intellectual progress than the world has yet known. It may bo a dream of the fancv, but it is one that 1 cherish and fond I v hope that I may never see dispelled. Should it prove to be reality one of its chief cauve# will be the continued growth of those art# whose promotion in the object of your time-honored assosicatiou. As a grate ful posterity will not fail to honor the memories of the men whose intelligence and energy furthered tlie mighty work, I may safelv predict lor yotir society— already so distinguished and so worthy of vour great State—that title—the noblest of all earthlv distinctions—a benefactor of mankind. blind lidinns. There are quite a number of blind In dians about this city, says a Virginia City paper, both men and women. The oulv blind per-ona we have #ien among the Piutea living in thi# vicinity, are altilts. The eyes of the juvenile# of both sexes are remarkably bright, black, and sparkling. The blind men and worneu among tho Indians seem to be able to go about with more facility than most white persons who have lost their sight. In leading the blind the In dians use a stick—an old broom handle or other stick of about tho same size. The advantages of a stick over a string are numerous and important. In the first place, as both the blind matt and the person leading him firmly group tho stick, the former finds iu it not a little to sternly aud support him ; then all manner of warnings aud signals are given through the stick. When a cor ner is to bo turned, the blind person is mado aware of the fact by a steady pressure in tho proper direction until all is again plain sailing ; when steps in tho sidewalk are to be ascended, the stick signals the fact almost of itself, aud the same is tho caao where there is a sudden descent—the blind person feel* the chango in the angle of his leading stick and knows what ground is being traversed by the person at the other end of the stick. Iu case a string were used iu leading the blind it would afford no support; none of the signals we have mentioned could pas* between the person iu advance and the hliud man, and holding the end of a loose striug he would feel quite lost. Two ludiaus trsveling iu this war will get along so well that one would hardly notice from their gait that oue iu the renr was blind. Iu this stick btißiness it nppears Unit there is a lunt for white leaders of the blind. Hero we gener ally see a man and a woman traveling iu this way ; the man leading his blind wife, or the wile leading her blind hus band. It is Urn to one, too, that tho blind wife is seen with a pnppoose slung upon her back, for being blind does not at all discourage a Piute woman. The eyes of tho Piutes are naturally good, but those living About the lake region# have alkali dust blown into their eyes while sleeping on the ground, aud, in deed, almost at ail times wlieu the wind is blowing hard. This irritates the eyes and they rub them, when they be come watery, aud more readily catch tho flying dust. Thus they go on, never washing their faces or eyes, aud through this filthiness what wn# at first a mere accident, finally becomes a fixed aud incurable disease, and they eventu ally lose their sight. Most of the In dians living about Pyramid lake, Walker lake, and tho sinks of the Cas don and Humboldt, have sore eyes, and it is from these sections that we have the blind ones that are seen going about our Btreets leading oue another at the end of sticks. Do not be ashamed to work for your living. All true men have worked. The " Bull Buorliers " of California. The scene described is iu the red woods of Sonoma county, California : The driver tor Imll-puueher, a* he is technically called) provides himself with a yard or two of hickory stick, tipped with a steel goad ait inch long, aud this pretty instrument is as busy us a drum-stick perpetually. Tho ox, with all hi* acknowledged virtues, i* a most provoking beast. Year* of goad ing give him an exaspi rstiugiy small store of wisdom. Hence, not an hour passes, but some unfortunate, by his stupidity or lazinesii, works the driver into an eoetaoy of rage. Thou, whang ! prod and whit'ig ' Blasphemy, howls, blood and goads ! Oxon are not unfro quoutly killod iu tiiese mail attack . One prod behind tho horns sends the poor beast b> whore log* and punchers are not. The bull-puucher is a man of trial*. Only a strong constitution can stand the excitement of tho trade. Ho must have a born gift for profanity, or ho need never hope to reach high stand ing iu the profession. " Mister," said tho most gifted puncher in tho woods, "don't yer shout when yor hurt? Well, if 1 didn't ouas when the bull is con trary, I'd bust every blood vessel in my body in uo time." For the time being, the bull-punoher yearns for nothing but to tee his ten oxen pull togetlur and sot at the name moment. Even years of practice and perfect familiarity with his cattle, who understand every word and gesture, makes this end not always so easy. "Atand up, Bright! You, llrowu !" shouts the puncher to the loaders, when the chsiu has been hooked to the log. Bright and Brown groan. " Htaud up, Bright ! You, Brown J" comes louder, aud the puncher goes through a com plicated manual of liaruiltss passes with the goad. The oxen kuow jwr fectly well that this is an ornamental preliminary, and take uo uotice accord ingly, unless it be to lock horns and low, as if in dread of the coming war. If after two or three repetitious of this a willingness to get ready is shown, the puncher is calm. If not, be jabs an inuoctut ox near him, and swears at the It idera, who bellow, and strive with tlu-:r horns, each to keep the other from making the torturing start. \ ig oroua thrusting and yelling produce signs of nmmation along the line ; and an extra prod of the steel sets several of tho hinder oxen tugging. That is the moment fur the leader* to start, but in spite of the cries of the puncher they scarcely lower their heads again, and continue their lowing and hooking ; so the opportunity is lost. Now the puncher stands forth alone. Buch a bowling shriek of tajw worm blasphemy never was heard outside of the woods. lie dauoea ami he foam*, and tearing up knot* and billets, rum* them at the refractory leaders, who are beyond the reach of his goad. Perhaps the puncher throws down his hat and stamp* upon thut article of raiment as he screams. Happily, a small log from his raging hand start* the lea-ler*. Now shouting, yelling, cursing, blas pheming aud bellowing, till the sylvan echoes make a frightful uproar, the puncher leans and dances along the line, goading and smiting till the united strength is brought to bear,wheu the log plows slowly over the slimy road till the next stopage, and then the whole soul destroying performance i gone through with again. The puncher, in addition to all his other woe*, must pas* through lifs up to hia ankles in mud. A uian with a couple of mule* drawing a sled on winch a pair of bar rel* are fixed, s|x-ud hi* time in dash iug water over the ground before the log on its way to the rosd of akuls. Thus a gutter of soft, slippery mud i* quickly farmed. The log gliding through this makes a sound oddly similar to a boot cleaving water, and the puncher plods on, curing and pluu#lng. A l!u*y Flace. Aa exchange uu : " Thousand! of JVITMQII MM through the city of Fall lliver, Ma**., with no accurate knowl edge of it* industries, and with very little idea of ita manufacturing and commercial imj>ortancc. The terminus of the Ho# ton and Fall Hirer railway, and the landing place of a potinlar line of New York steamer*, traveler* catch only glimpse# of the city in their naaty transfer from boat to oars or from cars to Iwat, in the dusky morning or when evening shadows have fallen. The re cent destruction by tire of the Grauite Mills, and the sad loss of life in connec tion, have awakened special interest in this important manufacturing center. Fall ltiver was incorporated as a village more than seventy years ago, and as early as 1813 a cotton factory was built. " Qnequeolian" a place of falling water—was the old Indian name of the settlement. The little stream from which the town derives its present name is the outlet of the Watnppe Ponds,and in the last half mile of its oonrse hns a descent of more than 130 feet, forming a remarkable water-power. The chain of ponds, however, is even more valu able than the river, furnishing abund ant water for the generation of steam, which at this day has in a great measure superseded wat r-power. The commo dious harbor of Fall Kiver, at the en trance of Taunton river into Mount Hope bay, greatly conduces to its pros perity aud rapid growth. Cotton man ufacturing is the chief industry of the town, although there are factories of various kinds. Within the last five years Fall Hiver has more than doubled the capital invested in its cotton mills, an<l now the nominal capital is stated to be $14,870,000, while the actual in vestment is much greater. There are now thirty-four incorporated companies for the manufacture of cotton goods, chiefly prints; forty-four mills, with 1,269,788 spindles ; aud these mills, witti something like 15,000 oper. fives, annually convert about 135,000 bales of cotton into 332,000.000 yards of cloth. Htatistics show that over ono aiith of all the cotton spindles in the United States, and nearly one-fourth of those in New England,are concentrated in Fall ltiver. The operatives are chiefly Irish, English, aud French Canadians, and are noted for their thrift and in dustry. Many of them now have a pecnuiary interest in the new corpo rations, some of which count their stockholder# by scores, or even by hun dreds. The investments in such cases are not large, of course, but they tend to promote industry, enterprise and in dependent thrift among the laboring classes. Produce of the Karth. Take the potato away from Ireland, and starvation comes. Famine recently had its hold ou Bengal on account of a failure of the rice crop. Bread fruit is to Weat India both food and clothing. Heaven sends it and causes it to grow, and the lazy natives ask for nothing further. And yet all these yield to the despised bamboo. We go tishing with these poles ; the Chinese eat them. The uses to which it is put render it a national benefaction. Houses, boats, screens, and water wheels are made of it, together with fences, ropes, furni ture, hats, nmbrellas, and all varieties of weapons,lampwicka, pencils,brushes, pens, acqueducts, tolescopes, and a thousand other tilings oi daily use. We might almost say that were the bamboo to perish suddenly fiom off tho earth the whole Chinese Empire would collapse. Life ou the I'laiu*. The Denver, Col., AVu 1 * tells the story of the sufferings of a party of German emigrant* which had lately ar rived there trorn tha old country. One day while rneamped on the Republi can, about 130 utiles from Denver, six of these tier man* wander id off and got lost. This was about the 21th of Au gust. The first and second days the six men stuck togither. The second night they disagreed as to the direction to be taken. Three of the party were for going straight ahead, but the oth ers wanted to retrace their steps. In the morning they separated. The three who turned back reached enmp that night, foot-sore and hungry. The next day work was suspended aud all hands joined iu the search for the three lost men. L'ureuutting search was con tinued for four or five days. Finally the survivors resumed work Again, it was supposed that the men had per ished from starvatiou or had been killed by the Indians. A day or two after ward, CapL D. K. Kimberly, well known in this city, and Mr. j. Fah inger, were running a line, wheu to their great surprise two men, who at first were thought to be Indians, but who proved to be uf the lost party, ap jeared over a ridge a long way off. When they saw Kimberly ami Fahiuger they wrung tlieir hands for joy and hastened to them. They managed, mainly by gesticula tion, to give their discoverers to under stand that their comrade, being too weak to walk, had beeu left by a pool of water ten or ttfteea miles away. Capt Kimberly and Mr. Fahiuger returned t camp aud procured a team, and guided by the two men, drove to where the exhausted man had been left. They Lad been waudcritig eight days, sml they calculated that they had trav eled twenty miles in all directions from s given point. There was but one gun in the party, and only four loads of am munition. The fourth day out, or toe day after the separation above referred to. took place, they found about a pint of muddy water lu a hole made by a buffalo's* foot As they had no cups with them, they clawed sway the dirt until they eoutii get their mouths down to the water, which was generously but very equallv shared between tha turn*. The four loads of ammunition were used with tLe utmost economy. When discovered they hud two loads remain ing. With one of the other two they had killed an antelope. Tais happened only an hour or so before the meeting with Kimberly and Falunger. For days before thsy had subsisted on raw frogs. These were caught at the stag nant pool, or puddle, where the third man of the party was found. The men hnd no matches, and consequently could cook nothing. As for the frogs, they ware licked up skins and all, ami were found rather palatable. At the stag nant pool a tin pail was found. It looked as if it had lain out doors for years. Near by stood a slender Cotton wood, the only tree in sight, and one of the men climbed this and trimmed off its branches to the top, and then tied hia white shirt to the tip, in hopes that it would be seen anJ lead to their dis covr-rv and rescue. All the men, when fonu.{, looked like skeletons, and were object* worthy the deepest pity. There were deep, black furrows under the eyes and across the checks, and the flesh on their feet was worn to the quick, o that every st.-p was accom panied by a sigh of pain. Their hun ger, of course, wa* of the raveuou* kind, and they lugged pileously for food, but they wo re si lowed nothing bat small quantitiea of antelope soup. *t regular intervals, for a day and a half, or until they recovered strength. Oa September first, another German belonging to le-Mog's party lett camp for the purpose of killing a huflalo. The last seen of him he war strikiug out for a h< rd that were feeding on a hill several miles away. He never returned, and the rest of the party think he wounded a buffalo, and wa* attacked and gored to death by the ferocious beast. Tranlt of Vcnu*. The interest taken by the various governments and the expeditions sent forth by tbsm, make this future celes tial phenomenon the great object of at tention iu tho scientific world. Venus and Mercury, being inferior planets, pas* between the sun and the earth, the planet answering to tlia moon as in a solar eclipse, but the passage of a planet across the sun is called in as tromomy a transit. Transit* of Venus take place at in terval* ol eight and ono hundred and five years. The last were in 17G1-1779, The next will be in December, 1874- 1882. The latter will be visible in this country. Tranfits are important phen omenal a* they furnish an indirect but accurate method of ascertaining the sun's Parallax is the technical term used in astronomy to signily the distance of a celestial liody from the earth, as viewed from the different sta tions. (iiving A the center of the eatth, II a point on its surface, O the sun, the angle formed A B C is the parallax of the sun. To ascertain and fix the "constant parallax" is the main object of all the expeditions. The difference existing in the computations of various astronomers is small, comparatively speaking (not over eight millions of miles) ; but these variations will be settled by accurate observation# to be made with the various improved in struments now iu use, assisted by pho tography. Observation# at different stations will refer the planet to different points upon the sun's disk, and therefore the tran sit to each corps will take place along different chorda of tho arc and be ac complished in unequal portions of time, noting the duration of the transit at two or more different places, the dis tance or parallax of the suh can be com puted with facility. It is now snpposcd to be 91,328,000 miles. The German* and Itassian* have sunt their expedi tions to Auckland, Kerguelen Island and McDonald. Lord Linsey has fit ted ont a private expedition to the Mauritius, and we have stations select ed in Japan, China, Indian and Paciflo oceans. About Iron. The combustibility of iron is ft ehemi cnl fact well known, bnt n Berlin ex perimenter has demonstrated the phe nomenon in a manner peculiarly his own. lie takes a straight liar magnet of some power, and apiinkles iron fi lings on one of its poles. Those filings nrrange themselves in accordance with tho lines of magnetic force, and, how ever closely they may appear to be packed, of course no two of the metal lic filaments are parallel, and conse quently a certain portion of air is inclosed, as in a metallic sponge. The flnmo of an ordinary spirit lamp or gas burner readily ignites the finely-divided iron, and it continues to burn most bril liantly for a considerable length of time, the combustion being, apparently, as natural and easy as that of any ordinary substanoo. If the experimenter with this operation stands on a slight elevation, and waves the magnet to and fro while burning, a most mnguifioent rain of firo is said to be produced. Terms: 5'2.00 a Year, in Advance. DEAD LKTrEKS. A short space of two days and his vacatiou would commence. 'I wo weeks f But two weeks were two years of 100, two centuries of real enjoyment, two •termtn-a of reat, compared to the con stant tirag, drag, in that louely busi ness which took up all hia day hours iu work, aud all hia night hours iu dreams. Two weeks away from the constant reading of letters which w<-re written for other eyes than his ! How he ever got into the Dead-letter Office he oouldu't say, and how he aver staid there without growing wild to the ex lent of pulling out all hia hair aud ramming j eus into his brown eyes, he couldn't, for the life of him, tell. He had staid on two years, and was much honored, in a small way, a* a skillful clerk iu the department. He oouldu't tell why again. Iu fact, hia career was a series of " oouldu't-toll-whys," which, however, were the cogs to the wheel* which kept his life agoing. Casual Observer might have told why be was considered one of the heat clerks iu the department, aud aaid Observer would have remarked that it was because he- There ! I've got just so far without using a name, and I beped I'd get clear through the atory without committing myself; but it's no use. These pro nouns are terribly exacting things, and I shall have to get a name for the " he " liefore the last dash, or 1 shall be un able to proceed any further. Well, Tom will do, won't it ? Tom's a name, and there are lots of Toms in Washing ton, and several Torus in the Dead-let ter Office. Now, then, we'll take an other start with Tom and the Observer. I say that the Observer would have remarked that it (go back a few lines for the explanation of the "it ") was because Tom had a very tender heart in his possession. A sad thing to have a tender heart when you're dealing with persons, they say. Tom thought it was sadder when dealing with letters. He would choke fifty times each day while reading some earnest, heart felt epistle which, despite the iove and fidelity a mother's baud had buried in the lines, hail miscarried, nor woold ever reach a dear son's eye*. Or per haps it was a father's strong call—strong in tears and strong in lovo—which would never bring back to the home fold a straying daughter. The letters Tom read with a heart ache, which spread like neuralgia, and somehow filled his whole body with an untold pain, wt re by the thousand a year ; but his interest in the sail cases "was never flagging, anil be always made a good push to hare the letters which came from loving hands for loved ones take one more chance of reaching their destination. If Tom's successes had been each s block of granite, the Wash ington Monument would have been completed over eleven months ago. Tom was to have two weeks' vacation —two week*, commencing in two days. He wasn't often idle ; but this morn ing he held one of s batch of letters epistolary corpses—and sat thinking of anything but his work. Where shonld he" go in vacation ? There was no mother, or brother, or sister waiting for him to come home. There were no kisses of welcome waiting for him among green hills or by pleasant, aiming waters. Where should he go? Heigbo! He couldn't make up his mind. With a shake, like a cat awak ing, he came back to his work and gazed on the one letter f mm many in a pile Itefore him he had semi-unconsciously taken up. Tne direction of the letter was as follows : Miss CUARA F. DEKXRTT, St. Albans, Vermont, The post-mark bore the name o' Provi dence, Rhode Island, and date of July 20. Ou the other side of the envelope was a prettv monogram of three letter*, F. H. W. or W. H. P., or 11 W. F., or some combination, Tom couldn't decide which. So he opened the letter and read : "Ct AHA.— -My heart is nigh breaking. May I not come back ? I was wholly wrong ; but my love for you made me unreasonably exacting and unwilling to yield. Forgive me, for Heaven's aake. "and say I may come to you. I will wait one week mora in Providence to hear from you. Do write. FRANK." No date and no signature. "Just like a man in love !" said Tom. " The only thing settled is that the first let ter of that monogram ia an F., a blue F. That doesn't amount to anything. I don't know the second letter— l mean which it ia." Somehow he wa* led to put the letter one aide instead of tluow ing it in the waste receptacle. He thought he'd like to look at that mono gram once more, it was such a pretty one. Five, six, seven, eight, nine more letters read, aud nothing in the shape of business yet Number ten! Num ber ten was a small, delicate hand, di rected as follows : Mm FRANK H. WKNPP.LL, St. Albans, Vermont. This letter bore date of July 21, and post-mark Fitehburg, Massachusetts. Tom had quite forgotten for the mo ment the other St. Albans letter, but of a sudden he cried to himself, " Hullo 1 St. Albans is full of business to-day !" He then opened and read : "Mr DKAR FRANK,—I only hope yon have gone back to St, Albans, for lleavcu only knows liow else this may reach you. * 1 take my only eliance, it seems" to me, left for our happiness. I must write, since my heart will not let me sit longer and feed on my own sorrow without breaking. Dear, since yon went away from me on that sad night, not one moment of peace, no day when a song was pleasant to hear, no day when I conld sit silently glad, has come to me. Only longing for you. I was proud, and angry that you could not trust me; and though I could easily have explained, I would not. I, for that short half hour, believed I could bear everything, since I bore your harsh words (as they then seemed). Now 1 know I was wrong. Darling, will you not write to me?—just one word to say yon forgive me, aud, if you can, say yon still love me ? Shall I never see yon again ? Dear heart, I was never anything but true to you, and that I can show you if will come to me or let me write to you. Will you not write to me? Just one letter, and I will bless YOU each day I live, if Clod makes me live a thousand vears. "Always being, T am still, only yours, " CLARA F. DENNETT, " Wallace street, Fitchburg. "P. S. —I am with my eonsin, pass ing the summer, and, unless I hear from yon, trust I may never return to St. Albans." " By Jove !'" said Tom, " here are two which go together. Where's that other letter? Yes ! As I'm a poor lonely mortal, I've got the two in a heap, and now I must deal them a new hand." (Tom was rather given to playing cards —therefor* his language.) So he put tho two aside, and left them in a closer union as letters than they had been in as beings. If Tom had been a mes merist, or a believer in mesmerism, he wonld havo probably wondered if the joining of these two letters would have any influence on the day's life of the two writers. As he wasn't, he didn't ; i. c„ wasn't a mesmerist or a believer, he didn't wonder ; he only commenced to form a plan for his vacation.' The NO. 40. commencing ended jnat half an hour alter hia day's work was over. " I'm going to Providence day after to morrow, Mrs. Wilkina," aaiil Tom that evening to hia landlady. "On buaineaa, Mr. Tmf" (Of course sh didn't say " Mr. Tom," but it will do jnat aa well.) " N'o'm ; it's my vacation." " I hope yon will have a nice time." "My truat ia in Providence," aaid Tom, a littla irreligiously, but he couldn't reaiat the pun. "And I've always wanted a clam bake, and they do say there's no spot on the earth for a dam-bake like the little back-yard they call Rhode Island." Day after to morrow became to-day, and Tom a tar ted. Ere long Tom has smoked a whole cigar, and got several mi lea on hia way toward Providence, Rhode Island. A quest he calls it; an attempt to find out Prank H. Wendell, and then to re introduce him to Clara P. Dennett He lived with tbeae two all hia journey. Clara had bine eyes and fair hair, he waa confident; Frank wore a alight mooatache and was rather thin, be waa certain ; and bo he bnilt np two imagin ary persona, and even found himself foolishly trying to fit his imaginations cu to fellow traveleia. Providence at laat Hotel a few mo menta after. Tea after dressing. Plenty of time, thought Turn ; and bis didn't go eut that night There was no harm in a brief perusal of the City Directory, however ; and to Tom stood at the hotel connter and monopolized the Directory chained to tbe marble. •• W-a-W e—W en - W-e-n-d-Wan dell. Here it ia," said Tom, mattering to himaelf. There were a few Wen dells, bat no Frank or FrmaiM H., not even a simple Frank or Francis. "Do yon know a Mr. Frank Wen dell t" queried Tom of the hotel clerk. No, be didn't that clerk answered, after he bad got through staring at Tom. " Who'd be likely to know a yonng j fellow about the city*' again naked j Tom. Well (second long stare), tha clerk i thought he (tbe clerk! would, and he'd never heard of Frank Wendell *r any ! other Wendell, except an old fellow aho sometimes came round t* buy I bottles at the hotel. That wasn't the i one the gentleman meant, waa it f Tom thought not. Tom was manifestly brought op standing. Bo be went to bod. Next morning he had another lo k at tbe letters. The delicately written one gave him no clew for the prcaenL! Cer tainly the other didn't. Tom put them both on the mantel-piece and tamed to brash his hair at the mirror (a two-by one-and-a-half bit of looking glass). While Tom's auburn looks were being " fixed," a nice little gnat of wind "un fixed " them ; bat at last hia hair was dressed. Tom turned to take the let ters, and— " Confound it, if they have not tumbled into the pitcher of wutar !" There waa snch a receptacle *n the table under the mantel-piece. " Now I most dry them, I suppose. Jnst my cursed luck !" He took them on to dry land, the shipwrecked letters, and patted them gently with a towel. The monogram letter had been ant open at one end, but tbe water bad loosened the flap, and it easily turned back. " Mean ' sticknm ' they put on these envelopes," said Tom ; and then he paused to read the maker'* name. On the edge of the envelope in raised let ters waa tbe following, "W. A. John sou, 51 Bank street," "By the blood of all the Howards !" cried Tom, " I've got it. If my friend, my dear friend, new fonnd, Johnson doesn't know for whom he made that monogram, he'd better sell oat and go into the fish trade. Peradventure I call at 51 Bank ■ street to day." Tom did calL Mr. Johnaon was in * " Tee," aaid a nice girl who waited on Tom, and he'd be down in a mo ment. Johnaon came, and Tom asked him a question or two. Johnaon aaid, in substance : " 1 made that menogiam for Mr. Wendell some time since, and be was then living with an uncle—l think he told me at " (consulting an old order book I " So. 17 So ana-so street. At any rate, there's where the paper was sent." Tom immediately ordered a mono gram for himself out of pure gratitude. He then called at No. 17. Mr. Wen d. 11 had been staring there, but had left three days Wfore for Boston. Servant didn't know whereabouts in Boston. Would inquire of missus. Coming back, servant said missus thought at the Tremont House, if he hadn't gone to New York. " On the way to Fitehbnrg," senten tionsly aaid Tom, and took the next train for Boston. Mr. Wendell was stopping there.aaid the clerk of the Tremont House. " Here 1 show the gentleman to No. 85." No one in. Tom waited around an hour, walked over the burnt district and same back. Mr. Wendell had returned, and was in bis room. Tom went to No. 85, and, knocked. u Come in P and in he went, to find a ycrnng fellow with a full beard, tall, and quite stout. "Bo much for mv fancy,"said Tom to himolf. " She'll be fat and a bru nette." " This is Mr. Wendell 7" queried Tom. " Yes, sir," was the reply. " Excuse my continuing my toilette," said Wen dell, buttoning his shirt oollar. " Mr. Frank Wendell 7" asked Tom, to make certain. " Yes, sir; Frank WendelL" Then Tom went to the very bottom of the matter, and said : " 1 come from a friend of yours— Miss Dennett" (how Wendell blushed, and then turned pale !); " she's also a S articular friend of mine (though she on't know it," said Tom, lotto voce), " ami she would like very much, if you can spare the time, to have you call on her. She's living in Fitchburg, and"— " For God's sake, when doea the next train start?" and Wendell was rushing down stairs, and crabbing a " Dial" railroad sheet in lets than four sec onds. Time enoogli there was, and a little bag was soon packed. Tom thought he'd go down to Fitchbarg too to see the thing ont; and he and Wen dell went Sown together. They went over to Wallace street, and hit the house after three trials. Tom would wait in the hall, he thought Tom heard one scream, two kisses, a rush, and several other things " too numer ous to mention," and was on the point of crawling out the front-door when the heavy hand of Wendell was laid on his shoulder. "Gome in and explain this thing. She says 6he neve* heard of you be fore !" "No more has she," said Tom, laughing ; and Beating himself on the sofa, he explained the whole affair. I'm not certain, but I believe Clara kissed him. At all events, a few days after he went back to Washington a happy fellow, having made others so happy. That was a year ago nearly. Casual Observer told me a day or two since that Tom had received cards to the wedding ef F. H. Wendell and Clara F. lieunett, and alao that Ton bad been corresponding for mw> tin# with Mi Emms Dennett, • sister of Qlare'a. Furthermore, Casnsl said, "If yon want to hear two people rave in praise of another fellow, too should hear Mian Dennett and Mr/W<*d*tl talk about Tom." Itema f later**!. Nrm attempt to form an opinion of • woman'a weight t> bar sighs. The great end of a good education ia to fortn a reasonable man. The only cbnroh in thia aounlry where sermons are preached in Wan, it ia •aid, ia at Klmira, 111. Tba flowers of apeepb spring from the root of the tongue. Great aenaation in Nerrtatowe. Pa. Elopement I Wealthy eitisan'a daugb tor! Colored coachman ! The Bnpreae Conrt of Georgia baa decided that rsffliog ia a violation of tbe atatnte against gaming. "Baored to tba memory of three twina," ia tha inacripticto ovsr tbe grave ef triplete in New Hampshire. To l>e covetous of applause disoovers a ■louder merit, and self-conceit ia the ordinary attendant of ignorance. Lately a Waatern yonng lady bed oe eaaion to inform a yonng gentleman that " her band waa not a lemon." A Troy workman lilted 600 poonda with hia handa. It la said that ha oan carry 1,000 poonda on hia honldera. Notwithstanding tba great crowd of riaitora and tbe high prioea at Saratoga this anmmer, tbe greet hotel* lost money. Borne miaohierona miaoreant reeenUy spoiled a wail in Bi. Looia bv pouring into it a large quantity of eoal oil. "At I nerer pay my own debts, it isn't likely I shall pay bera." Thia ia the frank way a Taooma man advertises his errant wife. A Pennsylvania child ia aaid to in berit the eyea and noee of its fether, but the cheek of its uncle, who ia an inanrmnoe agent The biggcat hxsomotfve in fbe world ia churned by Urn Penaaylvenie Rail road Co. It has twelve (having wheels, and weight 75 tout. A married gftrl of IS years, seeking a divorce on the ground tluat aheia too young, is one of the latest aociai devel opments of Indianapolis. An apple mid to be tbe largest ever ripened hi tbe United States bee been picked in Nebraska. It weighs twenty - nine and a ball ounces. An artiftoal fly maker in Albany, after a series ef experiments, finds that an imitation of a small white miller is tha best for ahgd fishing with a fly. A California newspaper tell# rather a leathery etory of a striped squirrel which waa eeea leading a blind rattle snake to hia hole in the ground. The people of Omaha complain (with a little shear of justice) that they are mentioned by outsiders as "Omahogs, Omshosaoa, and Omaborablee." In Sedgwick county, Kan., one Frita Baits!f ben led 1,000 bettelc of water to make hia onbb-gos grow ; and the grasshopper* got them after ail I A rejected lover in Switxeriand, to whom life seemed a blank mid further existence a heavy bwdw. tried to com mit suicide by flinging himself into • bear's den. "Put m* In the same room," says an old philosopher, "with a number of young girls, and I will tell yon, when the postman knocks— merely watching the looks of soma and the actions ef others—bow many are in love f" Two geatlemen from Newton, Mar quette county, Wisconsin, got into an argument about the number of grains of buckwheat they could show upon a tingle plant, and the result wss that William Outran produced 1,684 on one, and William Sanders 1,850. Now they are each looking for one with 1,874. The Bute of Maine sold a large lot of its timber lauds at auction the other day. About 140,000 acres were dis posed of at prices ranging from 35 cents to $1.90 per acre, and the right to cut timber and grass upon about 300,- 000 acres mora was sold at from 274 cents to $1 75 per acre. The total amount realised was about $150,000. A lady wbo was urging aome friends to dinner, felt disgusted when her eight-year-old son came in and said, ** Mrs! Jose* ssrs she can't spare no breed, and Mrs. fox ain't to home, so I didn't get any batter." The friends thought they had better dine elsewhere, sod the lady thought so, too, hot she taught that boy that the way of the tranagreasor was hard. The death of a schoolboy at St Mary's School in the Xsylebone district of London was oaaaed the other day by one of the teachers striking him on the bead with his fist The teacher first strnek the boy with a cane, and after some time with his fist, knocking his head against the walL The boy, who was only tea years of age, was soon taken Tery ill, and died on the follow ing day. Decline of Western State Fairs. The Chicago Tribune says : " The State fairs in the West hare been everywhere this year a failure as com pared with the successes of former rears. The same atory cornea from lows, Wisconsin, and Minnesota. The interest of the public in these exhi bitions has very perceptibly fallen sway. The attendance has been, in all instance*, comparatively small. An agricultural fair, as a rule, has come to be but another name for a horse race. The result is that all the State fairs, with the exception, perhaps, of that of lowa, hare Ujts year been money-losing enterprises. But it is not only pecuni arily thai theyhaTe been failure*. They have been failures as exhibitions. There was at no one of them very much worth seeing. About the only good feature of our own State Fair was the show of live stock. In lowa the fair was a success only as an exhibition of hogs. The exhibition of farm products was not anywhere creditable. There were not more than a dozen entries of farm ptoducts on the books at some of the fairs. The amount of competition evinced among producers and manufac turers was at a minimum. One instance will suffice for illustration : In Illinois, where there are about 290 cheese fac tories, but one manufacturer of the article was represented at the State Fair. The fairs were remarkable for the absence of aheep. It is said that the dogs are to blame for this. Per sons who have been engaged in sheep raising on a large scale have been com pelled to send them to Colorado, in order to save them from the ravages made by the dogs among their flock*. One gentleman, with a flock of 10,000 sheep, was compelled to send them to that State, because occasionally the dogs would break into the fold, and, in a single night destroy as many as 50© sheep. The decline of the interest of the public in agricultural fairs is due to various causes. In the first place, the county and district fairs, which have been so successful as a rule, en gross a great deal of the interest of the public. Then the expositions in large cities like Chicago, which are beooming so deservedly popular, tend to supplant the State fairs. Of oonrse the hard times have something to do with the financial failure of these institutions. But this of itself does not aooount for the growing apathy of the country re garding them. Present indications go to show that their usefulness is ended in their present shape. We undeistand that the managers of the Illinois Bute Fair are undecided whether another shall be held—another evidence that the State Fair is to be a thing of the past. H* Kmiw.—A strange man, who wanted to go on the train, bat missed it, walked up and down the depot in a high state of excitement, berating him self and everyone else. " I know just what my wife will aay 1" he exclaimed, as he walked up and down. "When that train gits thar and she don't see me, shell git right np and jump over chairs and smash crockery and swear that I'm off on another drunk I"
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers