f A PUtion to Tim.,
Touch u* gently. Time 1
Let u* glide adown thy *tre*ra
Gently —a. we sometime* glide
Through a quiet dre*ra !
Rumble voyager* are we.
Husband, wife, and children three
(One is lout an angel, fled
To the azure. overbea<l!)
Touch n* gently. Time !
We've not proud nor .oaring wing* .
Our ambition, our eontaift.
Lies in simple thing*.
Humble voyager* aie we,
O'er Life'* dim. unsounded sea
Seeking only some culm clime
Touch us gently, gentle Time
No Time I.ikc (he Old Time.
There i* no time like the old time, when you
and 1 w ere young.
When the buds of April blomomed. and llie
birds of sprtngtime *ung !
The garden's brightest glome* by summer amis
are nursed.
But oh. the *w. et, weet Tio'.ela the flowet.
that opened Qrst'
There i. no place like the old place where yon
and I were bom.
Where we lifted ftiwl our eyelid* on the splen
dor. of the morn.
From the milk-white Invest thai warmed ua,
from the chrgtug arm. that bore.
Where the dear eye* glistened o'er u lhai will
look on n. no more.
There is no fnetiJ like the old friend who ha*
ahared cor morning days.
No greeting like his welcome, no homage like
lus praise ;
Fame is the scoiulca* sunflower, with gaudy
crown of gold ;
Bat friendship is it-.e l-ieathmg ive. wiih
scents in every fold.
There is no love like the old love thai we
eooried in our pride ;
Though our leave* are failing, falling, and
we're failing ide by *iJe.
There are blossoms all arotu d us with the
color, of onr dawn,
And we live iu borrowed sunshine when the
light of day is gone.
There are no times like the oU umee—they
shall seer be forgot!
There uo place like the eld place- keep
green the dear eld spot!
There are no fuend* hke onr old friend* -
my Heaven prolong their Uvea.
There are no love* hke our old IOVM—God
Mm* onr loving wive.!
(Niter HewAC Hol-m**.
HIS LEGACY.
Thomas Yarn waa a failure. At least
he was so set down bv those who knew
him. He meant well, everybody said,
bnt all in all he was one of those shift
less, ne'er-do-wells that may be found
in every community.
Gov. Hammond was a wealthy man,
who, dying, left his fortune to his only
child, a daughter, the codicil to his
will setting forth that he wished his ex
ecutors to pay Thomas Yam a certain
small sum every Tear for taking care of
his library, and Thomas had an occu
pation. People wondered at this, as
they had no idea who Thomas Y'arn
was, where he came from, or what
earthly interest Gov. Hammond conld
feel in him.
One day Thomas took down a volnme
of Scott's " Commentaries," in which
he saw a moth creeping, and, as he did
so, a wild-flc wer fell ont—one of those
which had not been elevated to the dig
nity of Emily's herbarium. It was a
heavy old book with a parchment cover,
and, as he dusted and shook it, Thomas
Y'arn shook out his fate—a folded paper
fell to the ground with bits of fern, a
pressed violet, a lady's slipper, and sev
eral fringed polygalas.
It was a will. He knew the hand
writing well, for in his struggles for
existence he had been a copyist, and
had often met the stiff, stately, old
fashioned, copper plate band of Gov
ernor Hammond. He read on through
the formal purases and legal forms—he
read on as a man does in a dream, and
he never knew how long it tock him to
find ont what was written on that piece
of paper. He might have fainted awav
—if so, he came to all by himself, ft
was a will, leaving all bis property to
his natural son, Thomas Yam. It was
witnessed by Deborah Doolittle (mis
named woman !), then and now cook to
the establishment, and by old Deacon
Bamst-y, who had been gathered to his
fathers.
Thomas Yam remembered the date
of the will which had given all the
property to Emily, yes, this was written
a year after. It was not recorded, that
he knew well, but he thought Deborah
would remember signing it. He went
through all these mental operations
with half bis mind, the other hall was
paralysed with surprise.
Thomas Yarn took his way home that
day through the kitchen. It was not
the first time, for Deborah was very apt
to waylay him with the proffer of a cup
of or some of her nice di-hes, al
ways doing it with respect.
So, when he appeared down the
stairs, Deborah bustled round, and put
a plate and knif j and lork on the side
table.
" No," said Thomas Yarn, " nothing
to eat"
" Why ! whatsomdever has happened
to you, Mr. Y'arn ?" said Deborah.
" You look as white as a sheet!"
"Deborah, do yon remember witness
ing a paper for Governor Hammond in
his last illness ?"
" Well, yes, I guess I do, Mr. Yarn.
The governor was terrible queer in his
last sickness. He wandered round, and
went to the library, and wouldn't stay
in bed, and wrote things. Y'es, me and
Deacon Ramsey see him sign some
thing, I suppose it was his will, giving
everything to Miss Emily. He waa
awful troubled, the governor was.
After his BOD died be got queer, and
then, after Miss Hammond died, begot
queerer. I expect the governor had
been rather hard on the poor when ho
waa making his fortune."
"Deborah, put on your spectacles,
and see if this is your signature ?"
Deborah produced some very large
glasses, and proceeded to fit them with
difficulty on a very small nose.
"Well, yes, 1 wrote that. I never
was good with my pen ; I was kind of
flustered when the governor he called
me. and Deacon Ramsey he was cough
in' >wful at the timehe died, poor
man, before the governor did ; and
then I had my dinner on, and the soup
was a-burnin ."
Thomas Y'aro was half up the street
before Deborah had finished, and had
reached tho register's office. Yes,
Emily's will was recorded ; this wae
written a year after the other.
Then the poor soul traveled back on
his recollections, and he saw, here and
there, the figure of that stately man,
who had been his father; he recog
nized, here and there, that he must
have secretly helped him from time to
time; he remembered, too, that he
had not helped when help might have
raved Mary, and his soul swelled with
bitterness. But, in the hours that
death waited for the governor, he had
paid this tardy debt to conscience. He
had laid the paper in the old book, he
had sent Thomas Yarn to the library,
and he had left the reßt to chance.
Miserable, vnlgar fraction of conscience
money I Miserable playing with
justice ! Governor Hammond, like
many a dignified gentleman, uncovered
his real character in bis will, and show-
Ad the mean and poor thing which a
fine appearance had draped and orna
mented.
Thomas Yarn went to Mary's grave
and considered. He saw from that
humble spot Governor Hammond's tall
Corinthian column gleam through the
trees. He thought of the change it
would make in the village treatment if
he announced the fact. The tavern
window would cease to be his post of
observation ; he would sit of an even
ing on that brpad piazza where Miss
Margaret and Emily received their
guests : it would be his own I
Ce would beoom# a man of fortune,
K1 \ 151 X K I 1 \TZ, 1 Alitor uul 1 'roprit'loi
VOL. VII.
a power iu tho at*to. Ho looked down
at hia garments. It ovou (wnrml to
him that ho should haw a n.w suit of
clothes ; but, us these atrv visions
floatod Mom him. ho lookod agaiu in
tho grass at tho stouo, and road :
" MARY, WIKK TO THOMAS TAt.N,
OIKII SKITKMRKIi 2.H, 1835,
AOKO 22,'JL
and ho decided that ho did uot waut
fortune, famo, conseoueuoe, enough to
take it away from Emily, his child*
friend. She, nest to Mary, was tho
thiug dear to Thomas Yarn.
titter ho determined to buru the will,
but ho did not. Ho even Knight a
piece of oil silk, and carefully folded it
arouud the paper lsjfore returning it to
hia ragged pocket. Sometimes, when
he was particularly forlorn, ho would
take it out and read it, and become a
rich mau f.r a few hours ; then Emily's
laugh would resound through the
house, or he would see her, gay and
triumphant, driving off to picnics and
to sleigh-rides, the successful young
heiress and belle i f Moasbrook, and he
would fold it awsv.
Thomas Yarn watched with a jealous
eve the men who approached lluuly,
alii he saw to his sorrow that she be
wail to blnsh aud look down when
Horace Frazier came near her. It be
gan to be village talk that there was to
be an engagement.
Now, Horace Fraaier had oouie to
Mossbrook to study law ; he was not of
the town. Perhaoa he brought some
foreign graces witn him ; he was hand
some, dressed well, aud had fascinating
manners. But the tavern, in this in
stance, had become an important post
of observation, and Thomas Yam knew
of nights passed in gambling, of drunk
en bouts, of the grime and degradation
of a dissolnto life. Yet what conld he
sav or do ? What headway make against
this young and clever man ?
Before he had resolved on his course
of action, Emily had come into the
library, and had anuonuced her en
gagement to him.
•' O Miss Emily ! don't ! He isn't
worthy of yon! He is a gambler, a
drunkard, and worse ! Don't love such
a man ; don't marry him, I beg of you!"
burst from poor Thomas Yarn's lips.
To describe Emily's indignation
would be impossible. The suu in the
heavens was not more illustrious than
Horace Frarier in her eyes. To attack
him—and to her !
She swept out of the library, after a
vigorous denunciation, and Aunt Mar
garet swept in. It had been a part ef
Horace Fratier's policy (graceful good
for-nothing) to win the older woman
first, aud she had but to hear the dread
ful news of the attack to rash to the
battlements and mow down Thomas
Yarn with a well-directed volley.
" I hear that yon dare, Mr. Yam, to
insnlt my niece, and to assail the char
acter of her intended husband—yon,
Mr. Yarn ! Who are you ? Why my
relative, Governor Hammond, descend
ed so far as to mention yon in his will,
I never conld understand. Yon, sloth
ful, dirty, poor, mean, insignificant—
your dare to speak of a gentleman—a
well-dressed gentleman like Mr. Fraz
ier ? Leave this house, Mr. Y'arn (yon
never ought to be allowed to come into
it), and never let these eyes behold you
again !
Miss Margaret held out a thin fore
finger as she spoke, like a third-rate
lady Macbeth. Thomai Yam rose
slowly and walked out; yet, as he
passed her, he fired one Parthian ar
row.
" I will savs Emily yet," said he.
"Go, base creature !" said Miss Mar
garet, furionslv.
When Mr. Crazier came to tea that
evening, both ladies received him with
greater tenderness than ever. His
waisiooat was very perfect ; his necktie
and conversation delightful; he was a
handsome fellow, and in love. They
did net tell him how cruelly he had
been slandered.
Thomas Y'arn watched him for a few
weeks, hoping that love might make a
better man of him ; bnt no, it did not
The play went on ; the drinking-bouts
continued ; even Emily began to see
some signs which troubled her, but,
womanlike, she only loved him better.
That he made her heart tremble and
ache was part of the agitation of the
period.
Then Thomas Y'arn took a deter
mination. He went to Jndge Suther
land's office, and had a private consul
tation with that eminent jurist ; and
the next night, as Horace Frazier came
np the tavern-steps, fresh from his
courting and fresh from Emily's sweet
presence, on his way to the card-room,
Thomas Y'arn stopped him.
"Mr. Frazier, Jndge Sutherland de
sires to see you in Number 17, if yon
please."
Frazier sullenly turned toward the
room. He was a student in the
Judge's office, and expected he knew
not what in the shape of a reprimand.
Ha was surprised and offended when
Y'arn entered the room and locked the
door.
Judge Sutherland's dignified pres
ence, however, ailenced him, and he
seated himself, awaiting the revela
tion.
" Mr. Frazier, we are about to make
a confidence to you, and, as a man of
honor, I ask you to give me yonr prom
ise that you will not reveal it."
" Certainly, sir, I give you my
word."
" It deeply concerns yon, as I under
stand that yon are to marry Miss Ham
mond ; it deeply concerns me, as I am
one of the trustees of her supposed
estate ; it deeply concerns Mr. Y'arn, as
he is the real owner of the estate. Ilere
is £ will, which you shall read ; it is a
perfectly legal document, although not
registered. One of the witnesses to the
sigoatnre is still living. Of the con
tents of the will I am not ignorant,
having been consulted as to its form.
I have also known for many years, as a
professional secret, that Mr. Yarn was
a natural son of Governor Hammond ;
but I had supposed that my old friend
had abandoned his project of making
this will. Here It is, and in my opinion
it will stand.'*
Horaoe Frazier read the paper with
attention. It was ruin to bim, and he
looked it; but he said nothing.
Once he turned and gave Thomas
Yam a searching, contemptuous, and
almost amused look.
" You are a good-looking fellow to
turn a young lady out of her property I"
said he coarsely.
Thomas Yarn did not answer.
Judge Sutherland did. "No abuse,
Mr. Frazier. Mr. Yarn is treating you
most honorably. He is not ready to
make this will public just yet, but he
wishes you to know of it, in order that
you may not be disappointed in regard
to your future wife's property. If you
love her well enough to marry her, a
penniless girl such as she is, that, of
course, is a matter into which I shall
not enter. But it is onr duty to let you
know that Mr. Yarn will, in the event
of your marriage, produce this will, and
proceed to claim liis property"—and
the judge pushed up his glasses.
Horace Frazier was stunned, as well
he might be. Judge Sutherland was a
dry, convincing sort of terrible man ;
what he said must be true.
"Do you think, Judge Sutherland,
that Mr, Yarn has any ohance of sme
ws T"
"It mtv be enough to say to you
THE CENTRE REPORTER.
! that I have advised him to try," said
| th< judge, drylr.
Yea, tii*t vu quite enough for
j Horace Frasior. 110 loved Eaitly, iu
hi* British way, fur he rue l( ; but ho wan
not the man to do a generous deed, ami
take hor without a penny. Emily nu
hriias was quite another thuig from
Emily peumieNa. Thomas Yarn had
! not mistakon his mau.
Ho left town very shortly after, and
wrote a few very lover-like letters.
Then he went through the usual pro
cess of pretended jealousy, coldness,
and neglect ; then writing her that, aa
ho know ho was not worthy .f her, ho
must beg that their engagement might
come to an end.
He had told tho truth for ouee. Ho
was not worthy of her.
But it took Eoiilv some time to see
that km s young dream can havo.au
end. Bhe went through tho usual de
luaiona ; thought he still loved her, and
that somo eueuiy had done this thing.
The leaf of music which fluttered off
tho piano in tho evening breeze brought
back tho hour when ho had grace fully
stooped to pick it up for hor ; tho dow
ers about the piazza still breathed of
him ; the west wind brought her his
whispered vows ; the moonlight seemed
but to cast shadows which might bo
hia. It was hard to accept life without
him. Emily had never met pain be
fore ; it came with its usual intensity
to the young and stroug. She sought
to escape it, to believe iu him, to for
give him ; and she would have douo so
to tho day of hor death had uot a news
paper fallen iuto her hand with tho
news of his marriage yes, so aoou,
too ! Ah, Horace, you might have
waited !
Tremblingly old Thomas looked on
the surgical operation which he had
performed ; sadly he watched the pale
cheek and the dejected attitude as she
sat, cnce again his silent companion in
the old library. Ho would huve given
all the fortune that he had not had,
twice over, to hear her langh ; bnt it
was too late. Conld he have foreseen
this, he weald not have frightened
Horace Frazier away. But, before a
year had passed, the healthv and pros
perous youug girl begun to recover
from her Leart-break. The same tem
perament which had induced her to
throw " Thaddens of Warsaw " half
across the room, in her excitement at
its rapidly-changing tone of joy and
despair, came to her rescue, the un
mitigated worthlessuess of her late lov
er's character twigan to come to her, al
though she did not know the half.
That knowledge sometimes is good
medicine for a heart diseased. Aunt
Margaret, too, was as violently dftillu
tionte as could lie desired; but she never
forgave Thomas Yam, nor invited him
to the edge of a chair, forever mors, in
her <x ol parlor.
Before three years had passed, Km
ily Lad replaced Horace Frazier by a
far better man. Thomas Yarn had
kept his secret, and had seen his Kmily,
as lie believed, safe. He crept to the
library not often now, tor his breath
was gettiug shirt, his heart beat pain
fully ; he was going dowu to that quiut
resting-place, by the side of Msry, for
which he had long prayed. Deborah
began to go over to llim, now, with
comfortable soups and encouraging
wines. Excellent Deborah, misnamed
Doolittle!
Happiness did not harden that good
yonng heart, which hud been such a
dear thing to Thomas Y'arn. She never
forgot him, but even on her marnage
dav scut over to see if he could not
oome to the wedding ; but no, he was
too faeble. Deborah said he would
sit up at the window an 1 see her go by !
So Emily, in her white rolxs, looked
np at the tavern-window as she drove
to church, and kissed her white-gloved
hand to the faded figure who watched
her as she passed.
He had given Deborah a message for
her, to be delivered when she came
home from her wedding journey.
" Tell her," said he, " that she will
find my gift in the second volume of
Scott's 'Commentaries,' on the third
shelf of the library."
"Just write that down, Mr. Y'arn if
yon please ; my memory ain't what it
was," said Deborah.
Thomas Yarn wrote a neat hand. It
was the only thing he did neatly. He
wrote it, and added, " among the wild
flowers. "
And when the beautiful, prond,
happy young bride came home, she
went,with her hand in her husband's, to
see the present. Aunt Margaret fol
lowed, saying, " Poor Mr. Yarn has
saved a little money, I don't doubt,and
he has given it all to you !"
There were tears in Emily's bright
eyes. She did not follow Aunt Mar
garet's meaning. BLe was thinking of
his lonely lot and of her own dear hap
piness.
Bhe opened the book, and there, with
some faded leaves, lay the folded
papej.
She and Miss Margaret read it to
gether. They did not understand it
until Emily's" husband interpreted it
for them.
They had been living for three years
in Thomas Yarn's house on sufferance.
He had been their host, knowing that
at any moment he conld turn them out
if he chose.
Ho had not forgotten to add a will
of his own, giving all the property once
again to Emily—the property he had
never touched.
" Where is he?" said Emily, wildly;
" lot me go to him and tell him what I
think of him 1"
" Oh, my dear, hain't yon heard ?"
said Annt Margaret. "He has been
dead a fortnight; he died on your wed
ding-day."
A Shaker Story.
The Ponghkeepsie Press says : A
case that has bad attention from the
courts for two years past was brought
to a final settlement. The story is thus
briefly told : About ten years ago a
resident of New York city, named Har
bor, died, leaving a widow and two very
young daughters. Shortly afterward
the widow took it into her head to join
the Hliaker Community at New Leba
non, Columbia county, which resolve
she put in force, and at the same time
" deeded " her children to that sect.
During the time that the mother and
children remained with them an acci
dent befell the youngest which resulted
fatally. She fell from a wagon and
was tilled. Some two years ago or
thereabouts the woman ooneludod to
leave, and was desirous that the child
fhould accompany her. To this the
Lebanon Community objected, wbereat
the woman invoked tho aid of the law,
and Judge Miller caused the child to
be brought before bim on a writ of
habeas corpus. The result of this
hearing was favorable to the Shakers,
and tho child returned with them. The
mother appealed to the courts, and the
case passed from lowest to the highest,
the Court of Appeals affirming the de
ciaions in each previous trial, which
were favorable to the Shakers. Thus
! the matter stood for Bomo time, the
mother yearning for her daughter aud
the daughter for her mother. Tho
young lady, for she is now fourteen
years of age, became nerveus and
highly excitable under the restraint,
and at lost, fearing that she would find
away to escape and possibly "go to
the bad," the Shakers entered into cor
respondence with her mether, and
agreed to earrender the child.
CENTRE II V EE. CENTRE CO., PA.. THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 1871.
FOUND DROWNED.
I'llc tjllitlul It'tuMl aCliy'i Dmdti
l*Jr llrow Ik (tig .
Tlia death record by "found
drowned," in cities like New York,
Ijoudou, and Paris, is frightful. People
read sliuost daily in the newspapers
the announcement of death by drown
ing. The announcement is so simple,
so frequent and so same-like that the
reader candy passes on from it, careless
of even uoliug the usual description of
the dead bodv ainl the dress it had ou
when found drowned. The two words
"found drowned " ur. often, however,
the epitaph of those whose life and
death, if the story were told, would re
veal the desperation of the worst frail
ties of human nature, of unbearable
shame ami grief, of the devouring re
morse fur a wicked life, of men's acts
who feared neither (K>d nor mau, ami
in as many cases would as plainly show
the evils of intemperance and the con
stant iiutuiueiit danger of loss of life.
It is not a difficult task to follow iu
imagination the footsteps of an intend
ing suicide.
The horrible state of mind iu which
the uufortuuate mau or woman, as the
case might be, was goaded into frenzy
must have been worse far thau the
most crflel bodily suffering that can.be
supposed. Be suicide a cowardly act
or not under any conceivable circum
stances—even supposing that in certain
contingencies it oould be considered as
exhibitiug some shars of courage
still, when the time draws nigh for the
destruction of one's self, for the leaving
behind even of every sorrowful recol
lection of a passing honr of sunshine,
the relief of ihe river cover* over an
unknown something which it is appall
ing to contemplate.
There mti-t needs be urnin dreadful
grief breaking the heart iu the case of
(IVITT suicide. The proud man broken
down, discarded by old companions ;
the unfortunate merchant who dreads
the inevitable exposure ; even the
ridiculous lover, who thinks life is
worth nothing because ho can't marry
some particular yonug lady, each has
so heavy a load to boar that despair
seises him and death becomes prefer
able to life. But the few last hours of
all of them, while thev are creeping
toward the water, looking at it and
dreading it, but still irresistibly at
tracted to its calm and certain depth,
must be that agony beyond endurance,
iu which the doom of the sickened soul
is sealed.
A more tender spectacle is only too
often to be seen in the suicide o' the
young girl who is lost to the world iu
the betrayal from wbick she is suffer
ing. Want, destitution, no friends, no
home, no hope ; sorrow, pain aud de
spair, all hers. Hko may have striven
fully in the consciousness of her secret
to do s little ; but what she lacks her
self she gets nobody to supply, and
with the tirat evidence of the shame
that is upon her, she is Boomed, never
pitied. So she creeps to the river,and.
when all is silent on the dock, throws
herself in, aud next day there is the
usual announcement that, at such a
place.a young female was found drown
ed, dressed in such and sueh a wav,
who si-enuxl to have been very lieauti
ful. Everybody knows this, and still
how few ever think of turning the
vonug woman'a face front the grave.
'The charitable people are all in a state
of pitv when they hear her description
given as a tenant of the Morgne.
At times we have the dead body of
an unknown man or au uuknowu
woman fouud drowned, and there are
sueh marks upon it that those who fiud
it whis|>er that there was foul play.
The laxly i* taken to the Morgue, the
coroner notified, a pxf-morfem held,
and. whatever may be the suspicion,
there is still uo absolute evidence to
show that these might not have been
accidental marks. But even the sus
picion suggests the scene. What a
fearful cry for help that must have
leen from the boat out in the middle
of the river, where three to one the at
tack was made, and the terror of im
mediate death first horrified the doomed
man. How he struggled against the
iron grasp that bent his head under the
water and held it there till they thought
he was dead ! What a qnick, distorted
vision tne drownsiig man had of those
he loved and thus was parted from
forever ! As the boat moved away the
murderers would not look st each other
in the face, though they would all fain
be surer still that the drowned man
could not rise up from tho water and
charge them with the deed. Next day,
or within a few days, the bodv floats to
a pier and is picked tip. The police
are summoned, and from the station
house word is sent to Police Head
qnnrteis, thence to Mr. Kellogg, who
sends an ambulance, and the body is
taken to the Morgne, where it ia regis
tered as " Found drowned."
Iu New York alone an average of over
one hundred bodies sro taken from the
harbor and rivers and to tho Morgue.
This yesr the record thns far shows
that over 150 men, women and children
have BO met death. Many of these
bodies are unrecognized and go to the
Potter's Field unknown.
To t'aa Fro It.
Use onlv fresh fruit, and that which
is perfectly ripe—not too soft, just
right to eat well ; fill your can full of
fruit; put the cau in a vessel of cold
water ; put a few iron rings in the bot
tom of the vessel to prevent breaking,
then put over a slow fire at first, then
making it hotter after the water has be
come not. 100 great a heat at first
will surely crack tho cans at the
bottom. Meanwhile make a nice syrup
of white sugar, and when your fruit is
half done cooking, ponr the syrup over
the fruit in tho cans, and continue boil
ing until done. Remove from tho fire
and seal immediately. Some prefer
cooking their fruit before putting it
in cans, bnt in my estimation it does
not preserve its natural flavor as well,
neither will the syrup bo perfectly
clear. Cooking the fruit in cans is tho
proper way of canning fruit. I use half
a pound of sugar to a quart jar of fruit.
Cherries,peaches,pears and raspberries
will do with six ounces of sugar. Cook
quart jars twenty to thirty minutes, ac
cording to tho ripeness of the fruit.
Keep watch of your cans while boiling,
and as fast ns the fruit lowers in the
cans, fill up with well-ripened fruit.
Next morning test your jars ; if the
cover will not boar np the weight of
tho can, boil over again. In ten days
from the time of canning, test your
fruit again, and if it holds, then it will
keep for years. By this process, you
will never bo awakened in the night
time by a lond report as of a gun, as I
have heard of some people experienc
ing, and perhaps breaking some half
dozen cans near it. Keep your cans in
a cool bat not damp place.
ECONOMY. The most economical
governor ia tho Goveruorof Wisconsin,
{'he Chief Justioe of that Common
wealth rendered a decision some weeks
ago, in the railroad cases, whieh was
thought the most important decision
that was ever rendered in that State.
Bnt the Governor sent a message to
the Oiiief Justice requesting him to cut
down his opinion to about one-third or
one-half its present length, Veoause it
will eost too aush to print ft,
TIIE MONTE KINO.
lit r Hint
TliiVKb lan •( Trtit kre UUr.
i We are gliding through the canyon of
I the Truekec river, at night, nine out of
I ten of the pasaeugers are doting, when
suddenly the door opens, and in with
the eold uight come* the queerest apeoi
j uien of humanity 1 ever saw. Due side
| of the slouched hat is pinned up, and
by the lamplight discloses a face that
is young and not unhandsome, a pair
! of honest blue eyes, and a good fore
| head. The beard is unshorn, however,
i the hair unkempt, aud every lineament
lof the countenance betruya unuiis
! takahle verdancy. It requires no par
ticular knowledge of character to decide
that the fellow is a green Misaourian,
i fresh from the primitive tuocineta of
Pike county. One leg of tiie corduroy
pants it stuffed into the top of an old
| cowhide boot, l'heae, and the woolen
shirt, and the dilapidated visit aud coat,
i render hia costume decidedly seedy.
As if totally oblivious of the situation
aud surroundings, he begins humming
in a low, musical voice—
•• Away down South in l>me.
Away, sway."
Keeping time to his weird song, he
waltzes with a light, shuffling step the
entire length of the ear. and in a twink
ling has disappeared. He has molested
no our. noticed no one, and yet every
body is awake and talkiug about this
strange |>croiige. lie has not awaken
ed them by his humming song or ahuf
ffiug dance so much as by his strange,
indescribable tone, mauuer, and oon
i duct. The boy on the front seat is
■ convulsed with laughter, the young
miss across the aisle giggles with glee,
broad smiles overspread the faces of
men and matrons, snd the more serious
mutter, " Poor fellow 1 he is crazy."
Thev sre as nucouscions of the person
at whom they have been looking as of
the scenery through which thev have
lieeu gliding. Ah ! that good wife
would scarcely have awakened her
drowsy husband to *' look at that fel
low " had she imagined for an instant
that it was " the terrible Slim Jim,"
chiefest of the monte sharps. In a lit
tle time he returns, aud with the same
abstracted air proceeds to walk through
the car. Impelled by curiosity, several
of us follow him into the nmokiiig-oar.
He is surrounded by s group of laugh
lug fellows, who are listening to his
story. At Truckoe, he said, a lady had
stepped tip to the ticket office to buy
her ticket, and found that her purse
was missing. She had asked him for
#4O, stul hal promised to pay him when
she got aboaid the train. He let her
have the monev, and now hail gone
"clean through 1, the ears without find
ing her. He told the story in such a
droll manner that everybody laughed,
even while they pitied the jnair fellow'a
loss. He seemed to caru but little,
however, for he drew from hia pocket a
large leathern bag, fullv eighteen
inches in length, tiiat was half full of
shining gold pieces. He told how be
had been swindled out of some tnonev
by the fellows called "uionte sharp*, '
and proceeded to illustrate the manner in
which thev fooled him. Believing that
he had thoroughly learned the game
from the rascals, he offered to bet that
no one could tell the ace of diamonds,
and in lees than five minute* he lost
fctod to well-drraaed gentlemen who
stood around, llis hands moved so
awkwardly that a child eoald pick out
the right card.
No man ever saw SIB,OOO placed con
veniently within his grasp who was not
tempted to covet the lucre. Bo it was
with the black-visagcd man who sprang
eagerly from bis seat as soon as the
greenhorn lwgati losing Iris money. Of
all the men in the car this man was the
moat perfect villain, if God'# hand
writing in hia countenance was not
wholly unintelligible. Carried away
with the one idea of stealing tlie Mis
souriaii's money, the fellow planked
down hia cash, hia watch, hia gold
chain, and -lost. All this occupied not
over ten minutes, including the waltz,
the game, and the winuiug. Just as
the fellow turned the wrong card, a low
wuiatle from ths further end of the ear
announced the coming of the conductor.
tjnioker than "scat" tho cards dis
appeared, tho capj>era aud all hands
dropped into their seats, Slim Jim
drew his hat down over his eyes, and
the victim, after glaring fiercely
around for a moment, settled back into
his seat in moody silence. The conduc
tor entered and iaas<>d slowly through
the ear, but not a single hint did he
obtain of tho fact that a game hod leen
going ou. Hardly had ho left the car
!>efor the villainous-looking victim de
manded another chance to l>et. From
another pocket lie had drawn $2", hi#
laatl cent, artd eagerly asked for a
"afght." Coolly disregarding hi# im
portunities, Slim Jim said, " No, sir ;
1 don't want to break you." In another
minnte he had disappeared through the
door, dancing and humming, " Away,
away."
Faith.
It is said that one day, wiien Bona
parte was reviewing aome troops, the
brible of hia horse slipped from his
hand, and the horse galloped off. A
common soldier ran, and laying hold of
the bridle brought back the horse to
the Emperor's hand, when he said to
the man :
" Well done, captain."
"Of what regiment, sire?" inquired
the soldier.
"Of the Guards," answered Napo
leon, pleased with his instant belief in
his word.
The Emperor rode off, the soldier
threw down his musket, and though he
had no epaulets on his shoulders, no
sword by his side, nor any mark of ad
vancement, lie ran and joined the staff
of commanding officers. They laughed
at him and said :
" What have yon to do here ?"
" I am captain of tho Gnards," he
replied.
They were amazed, but he said :
"The Emperor lias said so, and there
fore I am.
At Night
nere is one of Thackeray's nleasnnt
touches : " It is night now, ami here is
home. Gathered under the quiet roof,
elders and children lie alike at rest In
the midst of a great calm the stars look
ont from the heavens. The silence is
peopled with the past—sorrowful re
morse for sins and shortcomings, memo
ries of passionate joys and griefs rise
ont of their graves, both now nliko calm
and sad. Eyes, as 1 shut mine, look at
me, that have long since ceased to
shine. The town and the fair land
scape sleep nnder the starlight, wreath
ed under the nntnran mists. Twink
ling among the houses, a light keeps
watch, hero aud there in wlini may be a
sick ohamlier or two. The clock tolls
sweetly in the silent air. Here is night
and rest. An awfnl sense of thanks
makes the heart swell and the head
bow, as I pass to my room through the
sleeping honse, and feel as though a
hashed hlossing were upon it."
Bills of plumbers all remind UH
How they come with lies sublime,
And, departing, leave behind them
Hhatn work ment to break botimo ;
Hh on work which of course another,
Finding leaks In branch and main—
Coma deceiving, faithless brother—
Cevliif, itraifhtwef IUMBI again
The May tfueru.
iim uEti to a nacawaao aaaaov.
If vuu'ro waking, call uie early, call wo eaily,
mother dear.
And we that uiy room ia warm, mother, ami
the tire 1* burning r.ear
And Ullow my maw uiioe wore, mother ouce
more ere you go away,
l'or 1 to to l>e Queeu o' the May. mother, 1 m
to be Quoou o' ihe May.
It froze ao hard laat night, mother, that really
1 oouldui break
The uw in my lltlle pitcher, mother, till 1
thought the poker to take ;
You'll find it there uutho hearth, mother - but,
ob, let the hot brick stay,
Tor I'm to be QUOOU o' the May, mother, l'tn
to be tjucen o the May.
1 shall put on uiy ajua-tru'rm oulaide of my
seal skin ooat,
Aud two or three yardi of flannel, dear, will go
around my throat,
Aud you'll see that the boueeet-tea, mother, la
draw'i while your child's away.
For 1 w to be Queen o' the May. mother. I'm
to be Queen o' the May.
l.lltlo Kills shall go with me, if her now la fit
lo he seen ;
And you shall he thire, too, dear mother, to
see me made the Queen,
Provided the doctor il let you . and if it don't
rain fielead.
Little Johnny la lo take me a part of the way
on hia sled.
Ho, if youie waking, call me early, call me
early, mother dear.
For to-morrow may be the chilliest day of all
the glad Now Year ;
For to-day la the thirtieth mother, and bleaa'd
if your child can say,
If ehe ain't au April Fool, mother, lueteed of a
Queen o' the May.
—l3 tar ilun.
THE OPEMXU HOOK.
I ant a mining engineer. At the
time of which I am writing, I waa man
ager of an extensive colliery in the
Bouth Lancashire district. We em
ployed a largo number of men, verv
various, of course, in character. It u
not my purport- to describe all particu
larly, but we had among us several good
specimens of the collier of the laat gen
eration ; men who commenced pit-life
when wotnea shared their daily drud
gery, who did the toughest part of their
life's work when inert- were no govern
ment inspectors to wslch over their in
tereals ; men, now subdued and quiet,
who could tell tales of coal-pit lite lu
the old rough wild dajs to which the
present are tameueas itaelf. These
men were swjwrstiUoUa to an amusing
degree, constantly on the lookout fur
signs and omens, not in " the falling
leaf, the snapping twig," exactly, but
in the strapping and falling treacherous
roof of the mine ; in the accidental ex
tinguishing of lights; in the simmer
ing of gas-babbles, working their way
through the wet "face" of the coal;
also in dreams, whether their own, or
any one else's. 1 used to laugh at their
sometimes expressed fears ; but the
time came when I conld at least sympa
thize with them.
I was Kitting in the office, near the
pit, one hot immtner'a afternoon. It
wu a hot plaoe, being adjacent to the
boiler*, and a noisy one into the bar
gain, being situated over a steam aaw
bench. My temper had been a little
diaturlted by the iwrtinacious endeavors
of a traveler in iron to draw an order
from me, a process which, having no
n<-ed of iron, 1 particularly objected to,
and which he, needing orders, particu
larly insisted on. 1 had shown niv
gentleman ont four timca, bnt, with
the brazen effrontery of hia tribe, he
would permit in returning, till I waa
obliged at last to ahnt and bolt the
door, thereby effectually stanching the
flow of hia blandishment*, but alao
making the office more and more like a
drying-stove. I'reaeuUy 1 peeped out
of the window—my persecutor was
gone. I opened the door ;in front of
it, about to knock, stood old Jemmy
Taylor. Jemmy waa one of the patri
archal colliers 1 hare meutioned above ;
in api>oarance, a skeleton, dressed in s
light auit f parchment ; gaunt, grim,
and gray-haired ; no model for Apollo,
or even in hia beat days, for ail liia
limbs hail undergone fracture once, or
oftener, which process is no tteautifler
of the human frame. There he waa in
hia skull-cap, failed blue shirt, and
ragged old velveteen coat and trousers ;
a- lie had stood many a time before
when he had desired an interview with
me upon questions of ventilation ; for
Jcminy was our head " waeteman."
1 may explain here, that, in pit lan
guage, the waste means the old work
ings, that district of the mine from
which the coal has been removed. Most
parts of the waste are left to take care
of themselves, which they speedily do
by closing again into solidity; bnt
through other parts it is often neces
sary to maintain air-roads : passages to
carry on the stream of air from one
part of the mine to another, or out to
the vent, the upeAst shaft. The office
of the watchman is to keep these roads
in order, aud see that they do not be
come blocked tip by fallen so as
to impede or stop the ventilation. It
is impressive, eveu to one accustomed
to them, to travel along these waste
roads. Von mar walk hundreds and
hundreds of yards along the low, nar
row passages, far away from the work
ing-places of the colliers ; and more
complete isolation yon could not feci, 1
believe, in the middle of a desert. It
would be an awkward thing to loae
your light, too, on one of those jour
neys. If well acquainted with the
roads, it would l>e possible to find your
way back to occupied ground, or for
ward to tho upcast shaft, whither the
current of air is hurrying ; bnt it would
be a nasty journey, of much excoriation
of legs, arms, aud bead against the
rough tunnel ; and shonla yon by
chance be so unfortunate as to wander
out of the main current of air, your
safest guide, you miitht very possibly
have to resign yourself to fate, and sit
down in the forlorn hope of being dis
covered by a search-party.
I invited Jemmy in. It was some
thing out of the ordinary way of busi
ness which could make him look so
scared through his oovering of coal
dust. He seemed so upset, that I
thought of asking him to sit down, but
remembered in time, that a collier sit
ting in a chair is as comfortable as the
proverbial cat on a hot plate. Your
collier can kneel, can lie on his side,
can sit on his heels, cau stoop in any
excruciating posture you may please to
name, by the hour together ; but ask
him to sit in a chair, and you propose
an impossibility. Thecauseof Jemmy's
perturbation did not come out quickly ;
it required much questioning, alto sev
eral applications to a flat bottle to get
his not very connected story from him.
11 appeared that, in the course of his
work he had remembered that some for
gotten props had botn left in a oertain
road midway iu the waste. Thay were
lving near an " air- door," a tight-fit
ting, wooden door placed in a roadway,
to prevent the air from passing along it.
Ho accordingly set off in searoh,
found the props and rat down te rest
while deciding upon their merits. He
placed his lamp upon the floor and was
just pulling out his pipe for n smoke
(irregular Jemmy), when his at
taU?u wa draws to tho door through
Ti'rmi: HR2.00 a Yefir.in Advance.
which he hml juat paaaed. It waa
alowly ojteuiog t Well, there would
be nothing wonderful in thet, pro
vided the opener had paaeed through
and made himself viaibie ; only, aa
none did pas* through, and as the
door, after opemug to nearly ila fullest
extent, alowly and silently cloned
again, there certainly waa a little
foundation for Jemmy'a astonishment.
Then, "A. 1 aot theer," said Jemmy,
" thinkiu' what oould make it oppen, it
slurred agen, and kep' cropin and crop
in, wider and wider, till it wur reel
oppen agen ! I ne'er touched it; I
wur three yards off. I wur no' no mieh
feart t' fust time, but aftherwarda "
After the second opening, Jrmmv was
greatly horrified, to toll the truth, and
wished to l>eat a rrtrest; but to do ao
ho must repass through the door itaelf !
lie managed to sarew up hia courage
for thia, opened it, ahook it, toaee that
the hinges were firm, closed it after
him,and on the exureas engine of trepi
dation, commenced to retire. In the
fascination of terror, however, he fell
oum J wiled to look back and hoped that
the sight of the door fast closed might
rcasaure him; but no sooner did he
turn round, than, lo ! open cornea the
door again, in the same toady style aa
before, and closes in like manner.
"Three timea 1" thought Jemmy. "I'm
done for !" lie, a moat oooi and clear
headed fellow in all matters connected
with his special business, was, aa such
men often are, very accessible to feer
of the unknown. What he had witness
ed waa, of oourte, a " sign," cxpreaaly
sent to warn him of approaching dan
er, prolably of an untimely end.
fheu he had tiuiahed hia tale, I natur
ally pooh-poohed Ike whole matter,
said he must have been dreaming, sent
him home to recover himself, and told
hiui I would meet him in the mine next
day and go with him to the dubolioal
spot, and see it the phenomenon oc
curred again ; not that 1 aaid "phe
nomenon " to Jemmy, aa it might Lave
increased his fears, but " words to that
effect,"
I had rather a long round to *tnake
neit morning in a part of the mine we
were just opening, and it was noon
when 1 met Jemmy in the "gal-stable."
(All horses are "gals," down Lanca
shire vita ; above ground young women
are " UMBOS.") It was with some little
difficulty that I persuaded him to get
off the provender-box and aocompany
me on the proposed expedition ; but at
last we set out, and were presently
traveling along the silent road in the
doecrted waste. 1 questioned him
closely ; but though be was now 0001,
he persisted in the accuracy of his
story. I eonhl onlv conclude' that hie
memory had failed him iu some im
portant particular, or that he had been
too frightened to notice something
which would at onoe explain the appar
ent mystery. Half an hour of awkward
stooping through half a mile of very
low air-passages, and clambering; over
fallen roof, brought us to the spot.
The passage, just where the air-door
stood, was in tolerable preservation,
and was comparatively wide and high
—some six feet by four. The door was
some four feet square, set in a brick
framework ; a good substantial door of
thick deal, tolerably heavy for spiritual
influence*, I thought. Jemmy had
bung bsek as we approached it, and it
was only by half dragging him along
that I got him through. We anchored
upon the prostrate props. "Now, Jem
my," I said, " let's just see if vonr
door will play any such tricks to-if ay."
I was certain that, if the manifestation
was not a figment of Jemmy's imagina
tion, which sevmed only too probable,
I should, on seeing it occur myself, be
able to explain it.
We lighted pipes ; against the rules,
I must confess, below ground, but an
indulgence which I could allow myself
with oertain trusty meo who never
abused liberties. " He's going to dis
appoint us," I said ; " you have made
me lose an hour for nothing." Hero
Jemmy's pipe fell from his mouth, and
he clutched hold of me nervously.
•• Look, UxOt ! Master Thomas !—look
—it's openin' now !" Sure enough, it
was, and in the manner in which he bad
described it As if drawn by an un
seen hand, gently, almost impercep
tibly, it came open—just a little streak
first, and then wider and wider, till one
oonld peer through it into the dim
darkness beyond, half expecting an
earthly visitor, half fearing a ghostly
->ne. Then slowly, as it had opened,
did it shot, closing np silently with a
perfect evenness of motion.
A little bewildered, I started np, to
make s good examination round it, to
see if the movement was explainable
by any of the snrronnding circum
stances ; but Jemmy begged me to stay
where I was, and see "if it would do
so again." I did so. In two minutes
the phenomenon was repeated ; in an
other two minutes it was again repeated;
bnt although we sat still on the props
for a quarter of an -hour longer, the
door opened no more. Poor Jemmy
was in s fearfully nervous state by this
time, and I myself did not feel alto
gether composed. The dead, op. roasive
silence—tomb-like silence—of the place
we were in; "the darkness visible"
which surrounded ns for a few yards ;
the darkness unfathomable which
closed in sronnd us beyond that ares ;
the feeling of isolation, too, and the
intent waiting to see whether the mys
terious occurrence would be repeated,
all helped, with the puuling over the
thing itself, to upset one's equanimity.
As 1 say, we waited a quarter of an
hour loDger, and the " sign," as Jemmy
persisted in considering it, did not
come again ; he rather wished it wonld,
I believe, for the number three was a
fatal one in his dictionary of
omens ; and say what I would,
nothing could make him shake off his
fixed ides that it was a "death-warrant"
for him. " Now for a good look at the
sign- worker," said L A careful ex
amination I made of the door, side
posts, lintel, brickwork, surrounding
walls, roof and floor; bnt nothing
oonld I discover at all capable of ex
plaining the apparent self-action. A
.luick subsidence of roof, or npheaped
floor, as frequently happens in the
passages of a mine, might explain the
opening; but no such movement of
the snrronnding strata had taken plaoe
while we were there ; and, besides,
though such a disturbance might open
the door, it wonld be hardly likely to
close it again, especially in sac.ha slow
and steady way. IWM puttied, and
more than puzzled, I will oonfees. I
did not believe that anything bnt a
natural foroo could move that door;
but what natural force did move it?
My reader may ask why I should feel
more nervous and strange at seeing this
door movcnnexplainedly, than I should
at seeing a tree fall unexpectedly, or at
hearing a voioe from an apparently
empty room ? It would be, I think,
because, in the case of the tree and the
voioe, the mind would almost directly
fix on a sufficient natural cause for the
occurrence ; and fear would hardly have
time to make itself felt. Prolong the
interval before yon fix upon a sufficient
cause, and fear has time to assert it
self. In the case of the door, the in
terval of suspense was prolonged in
definitely, for I could find no sufficient
reason at aIL I left the mine, as I say,
puzzled, more than puzzled.
That evening, however, I thought I
had found an explanation, and, of
oouroe, instantly all aerrouenoM left
my a!ad, and 2 laughed heartily at the
NO. 41.
matter. I hunted up Jemmy from the
public-honae, where he waa relating to
a spell bound eirele of fellow-workmen
hia experience of the laat two day a
"Jemmy," I aaid, " I've found it out"
" Fun it eight,ban ye, Mauler Thomas ?
What ia't, and what makea it three
timea F* " Why, don't you sea," aaid
I triumphantly and perhape a little
contemptuously, " it ia an air-door,and
the preaaure of the air inereaaing a
little now and then, it get. strong
enough to blow tbe door open I" But
alaa fur my theory—in two ininntea it
waa demolished by Jemmy, wboae face
again loet lie momentary cheerfulness.
" Cannot be that, 'oaa re ace th' door
opens agin the air, be it much or be it
little, ia a'waya preeain'it to." I had
to give in to jemmy's practical reason
ing ; what be aaid waa true ; the pros
aura of air oould not explain it, for
how could the door open of itself
against the current, whether strong
or weak?
For several days I perplexed myself
about the dreadful door and it* opening
and abutting,till I wished it at Jericho.
I found that several of the meu went,
also two or three together, to aea the
phenomenon, which waa daily repeated;
and it waa further noted that it always
occurred at or oaar on# o'clock ; that
the door aiway i opened and shut three
times, no inore, no leaa, and at about
the first obaerred intervals. They could
none of them explain it. While theories
were started by the yoniger and three
lt d men, such aa, that air poaaeaaed
certain powers of auction, aa well aa of
p mature, and that, when it wanted to
paaa through a door, it waa equal on a
pinch to opening it for iteelf I But the
older meu shook their head* and pro
nounced it uuoanny, something to do
with the next world, a genuine omen.
They were unanimous alio in the opin
ion that the warning waa intended only
for its drat witness, poor Jemmy! The
fame .of this opening door even got ae
far aa the neighboring town, beooming,
of course magnified on the journey;
and I waa written to by some friends
there to say they had heard there waa a
door at the* oolliery which rapped oat
answers like a medium's table ! The
enterprising editor of that town even
proposed to me that be should send
down a special to interview the case;
but I declined, not wishing any facti
tious interest to be given to the matter.
It will aeem strange to my readers,
but it is a fact that the door-mystery
repeated iteelf every day for three
weeks, and waa witnessed daring that
time by doxens of workmen, without
any feasible or probable suggestion be
mg msde as to the cause. Many a night
1 lay awake thinking over it, going
carefully over all principles of me
chanics I was acquainted with, to see
if there larked in soy of them a possi
ble explanation ; but withont result
I discovered the natural cans* in
time; but 1 cannot claim that I rea
soned it out A simple coincidence
gave me a cine tolerably easy to follow.
Before publishing the rationale of the
matter, however, 1 took it into my heud
to give Jemmy aud others convincing
rroof that I bad discovered the secret
gave it on I, that on a certain dav the
i>ht nomenon would take place half an
hour earlier, and would be repeated
five timas instead of three time*. Sure
enough, the thing happened according
to my prediction. Jemmv's faoe cleared
up a little when be found that there was
s Being of fiesli and blood by whom the
mystery was explicable; indeed, 1
rather think that in his mind, and in
the minds of others, I waa regarded aa
" somebody extra," dealing with the
powers that should not be.
Here is the explanation, as shortly aa
I can put it to non-mining readers. The
mine had two shafts, aa i usual—the
downcast, by which fresh air was up
plied to the' working; the nposst, up
which the foul sir escaped. The down
cast waa the ordinary working-shaft;
but the upcast waa furnished with a
winding engine and a traveling oage for
occasions! tine. Now, when this cage
was used, its peassge downwards would
nsturally check the v-oending volume
of foul air, and would for the moment
press it back down the abaft, and con
sequently would, to some degree, drive
back the'air which was in the ordinary
way rushing along the air-roads. Now,
retnrning for a moment to our old friend
the air-door, we shall see the effect of
this.
We remember that the balance of air
pressure iras against the door on the
aide on which it opened—the handle
aide ; bat when the cage descended the
upcast, it wonld reverse for a moment
the Datura I direction of the air-current*,
and then the balance of air-pressure
would be on the aide of the door oppo
site to the handle, and wonld open it
When the cage stopped at the bottom
of the upcast, the natural order of
things would gradually restore itself,
and the door would gradually eloae.
The opening of the door would, of
course, be repeated each time the cage
descended the upcast Its recurrence,
three tims, at a particular time each
day, was explained by the fact that a
set of men, just numerous enough to
fill the cage three times, were then work
ing near the upcatt, and were lowered
to their work at that particular time
each day. They were aleo drawn npand
down at other periods of the day, and
the air-door would hare been seen
opening and shutting at those times
also, had there been any one there to
observe it. Happening to be at the sp
csst when these men were descending,
I was struck bv the coincidence of the
time, and of the nnmber of deeoents
of the cage, with the circumstances of
the door opening, and this led me to
unravel the mystery.
When I explained it to Jemmy, the
poor fellow seemed to get rid of a night
mare ; his parchment face became
lustrous witu relief. The other men,
who bad been quite as much " struck
of a heap" AS Jemmy, anathematized
themselves for not having seen it be
fore, declared Jemmy to be s fool, and
did not cease to joke him for a long
time about his" opening door." But
he took it all very good-bumoredly.
He was, I have no doubt, as rejoiced to
get that incnbns off hia mind as Sind
bad WAS to get rid of the old man of the
sea ; and I waa not sorry myself 1
In Trouble.
Near Exeter, England, a de
serted from an artillery regiment. He
waa pursued so closely on every hand
that he plunged into the river. He
couldn't swim, and was near drowned,
when a man in a boat came to the res
cue and dragged him onk Bat he did
not deliver him to the paiauen. He
landed him on the other aide, and the
deserter got away. Then the man in
the boat waa brought np on a charge of
aiding the escape of a deserter. His
defense was that he yielded to immi
nent peril, as the soldier threatened hia
lifo. All this is now on trial. If he
kad not picked the man np, perhaps
some other process of law wonld have
got at him for constructive manslaugh
ter in oonsenting to a death he oould
have prevented.
According to the Freeman'* Journal,
Gen. Sherman is not a Catholic, but
when he oourted Miss Ewing he was
required, before Father Ryder oonld
marry them, to promise as an officer
and a gentleman that he would never
interfere with his wife in the prnotioe
of her religion, and that her ohildrea
should he brought up Catholic*
Fart* and Fancies.
Flow to be wise -think thit JOB don't
know everything.
Bntter down ! m th# font IMuM
to UimMll mho ut the fanner's wife
crossing the field.
China ha* street* paved with granite
block* laid over 300 years ago, ae good
aa new. The oontraotora are dead.
It ia annonnoed that Hoyt, Borsgu#
A Co. will pay their creditor* fifty per
cent, and that their UabiUUea are 99. •
000,000.
Cotton factories in the Bonth, in
i almost every instance, where well man
aged, pay from twenty to twenty-five
per cent.
Dr. Ayere, of Lowell, will lflhve hia
han lsome daughter 83.000,000 in green
backs. There's n sugar coated pill
worth taking.
The daughter of Gen. Hhennan will
begin her career as a housekeeper with
1 tbe outfit of " twenty-three doaena of
silver spoons."
11 Brigham Yonng dies, tha scramble
for widow's thirds will drive every
Judge of Probate in Utah to tbe nearest
madhouse.
" A few days ago Lewis Fletcher, of
Newtown oounty, contributed an arm
to a thrashing machine," is tha way thay
mention it ont West.
Practical and philanthropic ladies in
Chicago have opened a restaurant where
business mea gat wholesome lunohee
and the poor get the profile.
The New York School Journal recalls
the fseta that there are 221,000 sobool
teachers in this country, and 14,000,000
children of school sge who come, or
ought to come, under their tuition.
This averages one teacher to about 86
scholars. To support oar schools we
spend 805,080.000 annually, or about
86 50 for each child.
A prospective mother-in-law at Mo
hawk, N. Y., who wanted to find ont
what sort of a fellow ehe waa going to
have for a eon-in-law, went to a ball
disguised as a yonng fop, got into a
fight with bin and had to be Uken
home in a hack. The yonng man rec
ognised her when too late, and hasn't
been round to see the daughter since.
A telegraphers' newspaper, spanking
of tbe employ meat of woman aa opera
tors, aays that their power ia already
felt in tbe higher style of conversation
between male operator* over the wires. '
Low jests and vulgarity have grown leae
frequent, and an intimation that there
is a female operator on a circuit puts a
quietus on the most viruleot of blas
phemers.
A "claimant" has convulsed the
quiet neighborhood of Freeport, 111., by
attempting to palm himself off as a long
loet husband. He satisfied the widow
Gaylord and her children of his indenti
ty, bat a skeptic in the family brought
the matter before the Grand J ury, and
the result wee that tbe fellow was found
to be an impostor end sentenced to n
three years' residence in tbe peniten
tiary.
No two leaves ia the forest ere exactly
tbe same form and texture. No two
grains of sand taken from the seashore
or the great African deaert are indenti
on! in balk and outline. Even the two
drops of water the most alike in the
universe will exhibit some marks of dis
tinction when submitted to n powerful
microscope. The law that excludes
duplicates from the visible kindom of
nature is also a law of the moral world.
A Cheese htery.
The greatest ammunition that we
have heard of lately waa used bv the
celebrated Commodore Coe, of the
Monteridian Navy, who in an engage
ment with Admiral Brown, of the a
Buenos aenrioe, fired every shot from
his locker.
"What shall we do, air?" asked the
first lieutenant; "we've not a single
shot aboard—round, grape, canister
and double headed all gone."
" Powder gone, eh . asked Coe.
" No, sir—got lota of that."
" We had confounded hard cheese—
a round Dutch one for dessert at din
ner to-day ; don't you remember it ?'
said Coe.
" I ought to—l broke the oarving
knife in trying to cut it, air."
" Are there any on board ?"
" About two doxen—took 'em from a
drover."
"Will they go into the eighteen -
pounders V
"By thunder, Commodore, that's
the idea ; I'll try em," cried the first
luff.
And is a few minutes the fire of the
old Santa Maria (Ooe's ship), which
bad ceased entirely, was reopened and
Admiral Brown fo.ind more shot dying
over his head. Directly, one of them
struck his mainmast, and as it did so
it scattered and flew in every direction.
" What the deuce is that the enemy
are firing f" asked Brown—but nobody
could leJL
Directly another one came in throngn
a poit hole and killed two women who
stood near him ; then striking the bul
warks burst into flinders.
" By jove, this is too mnch ; this is
some new Paixhan or other—l don't
like 'em at all!" cried Brown ; and
then as four or five more of them came
slap through their sails, be gave the
orders to fill away, and actually backed
ont of the fight, receiving a parting
broadside of Dutch cheese.
This is au actual fact; our informant
was the first lieutenant of Ooe's ship.
—Monitor.
A Fast Tmur.
The New York correspondent of the
Boston Journal says in hia last letter :
Trotting horses are to New York what
race horses are to London. If a horse
has speed he will bring any prioe. The
arrival of a fast team produce# an im
mense excitement on the street The
men who keep the market in a turmoil
are the men who buy the fast trotters.
It is not difficult to buy a single team
that ia fast The story that Vanderbilt
kept a standing offer of SIO,OOO for a
first-el ass horse ia a canard. He oould
get speed at any time, if he wonld pay
for it The "old Commodore wants
something besides speed. He wants s
fsst horse—a horse kind snd quiet—
thst will drive on slack rein—one per
fectly safe—and at a low figure. But
to get a fast double team is a difficult
matter. It is so difficult to match
horses in the spirit snd motion and
bottom. There ts one team in this city
thst always producess sensation on the
road ; one of these is the bone Con
nors, owned by J. F. Merrill, of Bos
ton. This horse is black as jet. The
other horse is 8k James, belonging to
Rochester. He ia mahogany in oolor.
The two horses are of the same height,
about fifteen hands. The recorded
time of the the teaxu ia 2:22j. Oon
nora's record is 2:19 J. 8k James's
reoord is 2:18. It is said be baa shown
the speed of 2:17. This team was sold
reoently, and Bodd Doble was the pur
chaser. Everybody knew that he did
not buy it for himself. It turns out
that the real buyer waa a California
miner ; he made an immense fortune in
abont ten days by the rise of the Ophir
mining stock. It is said on the street
that for an hour or more he made a
million a minute. The prioe paid for
the team was $40,000. The team has
been expressed to the Pacific Co ask
Breaches of Trust.,
In pronouncing sentence upon
Phelps, the defaulting New York State
Cashier, who was sentenced to fifteen
years' hard labor in the penitentiary at
Albany, Judge Westbsook made some
very timely strictures upon the loose
way in whioh it is becoming the fashion
to palliate or cover up such offenses.
He remarked that " the enforce 4 bor
rowing of another's money by "an un
lawful taking against the owner's will,
hoping, by subjecting it to the hazard
of gambling speculation, to return its
equivalent, is just as reprehensible in
wholesome morals and sound public
policy as the taking with no suoh in -
tent." Judge Weetbrook pronounced
the defense of simple " breach of
trust" to be as unsound in law as it is
false in morals, and accordingly in
flated upon Phelps the maximum
penalty of tbs lew under all thrsc in*