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"