ENCHANTMENT. m cAHurm rem The sails we see on the ocean Are as white aa white can be ; But never one in the harbor Ae white ae the sails at sea. And the clouds that crown the mountain, With purple and gold delight. Turn to cold, gray mist and vapor Kre evsr we reach the height. The mountains wear crowns of glory Only when seen from afar ; And the anils lose all their whiteness Inside of the harbor bar Stately and fair ie the voeeel That cornea not near our beach ; Stately and grand the nicuutain \\ hoec height we may never reach. O ' -instance, thou dear enchanter. Still hold tn thy magic veil The glory of far-ofT mountains. The gleam of the far-off sail! Hide in thy robee of splendor. OI mountain cold and gray ' Oh' sail in thy snowy whiteneaa. Come not into port. I pray ' # —JttMfwai. General Jack s Diamond. A STORY OR A mas TOO BON ICST ro ST*:*l W HKM HK TKIKIT TO. Prettr much everybody- has lie.vrd of General Jack's penchant for diamond*, and a great many of us know the man himself, a sturdy character, sound ami tlrm on his feet aa a horse-block. A florid fac*, rather hard, a square chin, determined IRVS closing over white teeth, bold gtay eves looking right at you from under a hedge of eyebrow* a* tidy in color, dusted in gray, a large, straight nose, broad ami fleshy— you've seen the tnan. Dressy in his way, but not as gentlemen dress, ami wearing rings upon hi* fat. white lingers, and a big diamond In hi* expansive shirt-front. Hi* voice la deep ami *tcrn, rather hoarse, too, ami harsh; it* volume is tremendous when it comes freighted with a crash of oaths, General Jack i sell-made; began as a driver of a pair of mules on a canal route,then took the lion car of Herr Kroscher'* menagerie, became dually ring-master to a circus, owner of his owti circus, keeper of a livery -table, millionaire, art patron, political leader. His wife was on the stage once, ami a charming creature she Is; ami General Jack Is universally* known and liked bv the profession—but it i< about General Jack's diamond 1 am to tell you. "First thing I ever bought," says General Jack, "w hen I got to l>e ring master, after 1 was properly fitted out in the clothe- departuieut, wo a dia mond, and I've la-en buying 'em ever since. It's a weakness, am! I've paid for It. Tiffany's people always send for tue w hen they 've got in anything new. and the Amstcrdamuer* know me." It Is said that those who want to come over General Jack—no easy thing to do —always approach him on the diamond side. lie take- it as a compliment to lie asked to show hi* collection, and does >how it. But he U a good judge of char acter for all. The story goes that some thieves conspired to rob him by profit ing by bis pleasure In show ing his treasures. There were three of tlieiu— nobby English fellows—who came over expressly to do the job and thoroughly posted. They male his acquaintance at a down-town hotel where he Is often to he found, and In due course procured the invitation to see bis diamonds. They claimed to lie sporting men, ardent turfites, but connoisseurs in such things. They came to Jack's house one forenoon, in a coach, and he received them alone, opened his safe, displayed all his treas ures, went into their history, etc. "This." he said, is my Goleonda speci tnen —not very large, but remarkable for its brilliancy and pure water. This is my Brazilian —it is a bit >fl color, a -uspicion of a canary tinge—" whack! smack! thwack! "You would, would vou?" and with three successive blows of his fat white tist. his three English visitors were knocked down and put bors de combat. It was a mere suspi cion on his part—something he saw in the men - faces, read iu their eves—but it saved his diamonds. He summoned aid, locked the safe, secured the men, and found tlieui fully artned—pistols, burglar tools, handcuff-, rope. gag. chloroform, red pepper. He disarmed them, bundled them into the coach, and gave them twenty-four hours to leave the country. "As you came here on my invitation, I won't cache you, but— git!" And he -till preserves the gag, the handcuffs and the Cayenne among his trophies. One day General Jack had a visitor, a tuan of forty year*, with grizzled hair and a stoop in his shoulders—a pallid lace, somewhat bloated from long in dulgence in liquors. "You don't know me. I. Jen era 1 Jack f" said the man. The general was puzzled a good deal. "Hooabre, I have seen you somewhere. Stop—l have it: Good Lord. Gary, what have you done to yourself!" •'lt's fifteen rears ago, general," said Cary, apologetically. "Onlv fifteen! Zounds! You were a handsome young fellow then; 1 thought you were a genius. And your wife was lovelv." "Don't mention the pa-t—she's a wreck—six children to care for; and 1 am—what you see. I want you to do something for me, before the black dog devour* uie." "Hombre, it'* the drink that does it." "I want you to ave me trom the drink, general." "TIU man," (the general says, when he tells the story;—"this man, Mark Cary, was what you might truly call one of these here geniuses. When I knowed him—sunt loved him, too, as everybody had to do—he was editing a neat little paper in a Virginia town aud happy as a June hug. One of your Apolloes—tall, square, a step like a spring-board, blue eyes full of fire, Hyperiau curl* like—a man, every inch. The things he couldn't do with the dumb-bells weren't worth trying— he could beat my best man at the square leap- -sat on a horse like a Centaur or a Comanche—and put a pen in his hand, or call him for a sjieech and, by zounds, you couldn't mate him nowhere. 1 used to get him to write my bill* and adver tisements for me—he'd been a treasure in that line if he'd only taken w ages. As for poetrr —well, I'm no judge, but it he couldn't pump all these here cen tennial lers, I'm Dutch! Hi* wife was just the sweetest little lady ever you see, and could pour out tea like an angel. Aud now here he w as, gone to seed. "How come it, Cary !" It was the war, poverty, sickness, long struggle- in adversity, long lassi tude and loss of spirits, chagrin, all that turned in. "1 think I'm gone, general, but Mar garet won't hear a word of it. She toid me to come to see you aud ask you to help me." "Where is the little woman, Mark?" He named a wretched tenement house. General Jack drummed on the table with his fat fingers a moment. "Not In want, I hope, Cary?" said he, at last." "Not quite, general; but the times are hard; I can't get away, aud there's no telling how long it will be before that coiues, too." "Come, let's go and see her," said the general, and Cary, without a word, led the wav to his )>oor lodgings. The general does not say much about the interview that ensued, but I know from other sources that the wife and children had a good supper that night. "Come to my office—down town, here's the number —to-morrow, at 11, Mark, and I'll talk with you. Madame, I'll see you again," and the general withdrew". .. , "See here, Mark," said the general, next day, "you're broke down. The little woman can't do anything with vou and your own backbone's turned to Injun-rubber. You aiu't worth a CU "That is just about the conclusion I am coming to myself, general," said Cary, with pathetic sincerity. "I know better!" cried Jack, vehe mently pounding table with his fist; "I mean to take you in hand now, and make a man of you . "I wish to heaven you would!' cried Cary. "I mean to! You're the fellow I've been looking for this year and more. You're honest aud capable—you know FRED. KURTZ, Editor and Proprietor. vol, IX. all alvmt fpnilogy, minor ilogv and th.it sort of thing, don't you ? if you don't you can loam —stop! Uti>u! You an' up to my diamond invasion—well, there'* \ here I want you. I want a man an honest man—a capable man to go to South Africa for nie, ami tliul urn the biggest diamond there- a dozen of thani, if you're so minded! Will you go * Stop! I'll take care of the little woman if you do, ami provide for her If yon lion'l come Ivack. The sea \ov age will give you ehanee to ta(>er off, drop the drink, huthl yourself up ami all that; when you gel there you 11 te all right again, and then you can use your hratns in rinding tue that diamond. I'll pay you good w ages, and all you Ana is mine. Is it a bargain. Strike hamls on it If It Is!" ••If Margaret savs yes, I'll go, gen eral. Ami God blc.-a you. anyhow " "Come home to luueh with me then, and we'll ask her she'll likely he there." Not only she, hut all the children were there, and in the new est of clothes, for Mr. Jack had been at work too, ami Mrs. Gary told her husband, with tears hi her eyes, "We needn't go back to that dream of horror any more." So It was all settled In a few minute*. Oary's family w ere to have the cottage on the General's farm ami an amide allowance, the eldest boy and girl to go to school, aud t'ary himself to go after the big diamond, in aw eek Mark Gary sailed, with a chest full of book* in w hicta to study up the subject, and the little woman and her children were happy on the farm—happy, at lea-t, as thev could te with Vary away In quest of lite big diamond. How did that quest fare? I most let General Jack tell it in his own way, as he takes the key of his safe from tiis pocket, preparatory to opening it, and stand* on the hearth before the grate, warming his stout calves, and empha sizing hi- narrative with gestures of the kev . "Never was mistaken in a man in all my life, before that. Made alltuy money by looking iu people'* taoe* to see if 1 eouKi trust 'em or no. And this here Mark Cary—well, there's half a million o' diamonds, great and small, in this here ohist, let alone bonds, and I'd left him here with the safe open and nobody else iu the house, and gone off, say to Europe or the Sandwich islands, t>er fectly easy. But you see—well, there's such a tiling perhaps aa tempting people too far. Cary got along splendid at first. He w rote to ills wife and me regular all along the voyage, ami when lie got t© the (.'ape he sent a photograph, that we might how he was spruced np. 1 could see the old curls was com ing back to his hair, the old tire to his eves, the old roundness to his cheek— and the little woman was more in love with him than ever. He went up coun try, and by and by his letters iiegin to come regular again, ami diamonds, too —■mall ones, hut one or two good-sized ones, so that iu their sum they might be taken to be worth full as much money as I had put up for him. One day he send* me a real brilliant two-carat fel low, and simultaneous draws on me for SSOO, saying he was going to another place, in the ho|*e to find a diamond worth the venture. "After that no more from Mark Cary. More than a year went by, and not a word did 1 get from him, nor did his wife no more than me. The little w oraan was well nigh crazy, and, a- 1 had no good news for her, 1 didn't tell her any. I had written in a private way to a cor respondent of mine at \atul. and heard what i was afraid of—that Cary had gone all to the hail again—and it cut me deep; but 1 never let on, not even to my own wife. No news eighteen months and more went bv, and not a single word from Cary. 1 kept out of the little woman's way all I could, for the sight of her would have distressed a politician, let alone a stone wall; but one stormy night she burst iu U|H>U my wife and me, a wild as she could be. 'General Jack.' she says, wringing her hands, but never shedding a tear, and turning on me a face I couldn't I<H>K at for the pity of it; 'General Jack, I can not be the pensioner of your bounty any longer! You are the best mauthat ever lived and I'm the most wretched of women, but that's no reason why I should keep on ini|>oslng tij>on you.' So 1 says to her, "What's up?" for I was pretty sure now she hail news of Mark, and nothing good. 'Have you heard from Cary? 'General Jack,' she says, solemn like, '1 know my husband is dead ! 1 know that he has been false to you, and it killed bim! It's killing me:' i was struck all of a heap. 'Never mind, little woman, never mind!' I was going on to say, when my wife broke in, 'How did you learn all this, Margaret?'she akeil. 'ln a dream, a dreadful, aw ful dryun!' said the poor creature, and then she broke down, burst out crying, and couldn't say any more. So we set to work to console her the best way we could, but didn't make much headway at it. 1 told her that I would be cruelly hurt if she didn't let me keep my promise to Mark, but her last words were that she couldn't, daresn't and wouldn't live on me. "Jut then the front door bell rang, and when William opened it, the rag gedest buzzard of a man broke past him atiu caine rushing Into the sitting-room here where we were. He hadn't a whole stitch nor a clean stitch on him, that fellow hadn't; his hair was long ami wild and his beard also; his feet tiare and hi* face would a won the pre mium over a Connecticut hatchet for sharpness. All the same, that little woman knowed him as soon aa he stop|ed at the door, turned white as a sheet, held her two hands together tight, and jut sighed between her set teeth, 'Mark'.' 1 thought she'd go over but she was too true grit for that. He never noticed tier, nor nothing else, lie came straight up to me and kind o' steadied his staggering feet by holding on to the table and looked me in the facs and said cool and calm like, but in a monstrous thin, reedy voice: 'General Jack, I've been a thief and a traitor, a sot ami a vagabond, for more than a year; but I ha*'e lived long enough to make yon amends. Here's your dia mond; take it quickly, for I'm dving!' and he put a bundle of rags as liig as your two fists iu my hand, ami went over just like he w as shot! "The little woman gave one cry, half joy, half terror, and had him in her arms next instant, his head iu her lap, and she smothering him with kisses, while my wife, cool :i a statue, turns to William and say*, 'Have some soup made,' and first thing I saw she had the brandy bottie and a S|MX>II. and WHS down on her knees beside him. "He's just starved to death, general, that's all,'says she. Arid I wasn't nowhere iu that ring, while tliein women was bringing him round with little doses of beef tea and brandy, kisses ami patting, aud calling him ail the loving names in the dictionary. By and by he sits up— ' Where is it?' says he, and makes me hand that parcel of old rags out of my pocket where I'd slip|M>d it in the hurry of the moment, and unwrapped and un wrapped until out there shined—but sho! there are some things you cannot describe •" And at this point in his narrative the General always unlocks his sate and produces his great diamond. "There he is! Biggest diamond in America! Finest jewel in the world ! Iok at it! That man fetched him for me all the way from Africa hy way of Australia, and hadn't a cent in his pocket half the time! Didn't 1 tell you 1 never was mistaken in a man's character in my life? Hadn't hail a bite to eat from Omaha here, but held 011 to the diamond and said nothing—only starved. •'Well, he told me all about it—not that 1 believe all his sentimental trash, though. People with his sort of face are honest because it's their nature, it they get wrong their nature beats and kicks them and pulls their ears till it sets them right again I That's all of It. TllK ('KM l!K It E PORTER. His storv was tfi.it he hadn't ltren at tin new place more than"k week before he lighted on the liig diamond—Wit ked it up with Itia toe. lie no sooner saw it than he knew It was a fortune for hint If he kept it. Then, he says, the devil entered into him and tempted him, and he got on an all-fired bust,and run aw ay to India to sell the stone to a Maharajah there. But, just as lie was concluding the bargain he ran away* again—lie don't say the devil templed him lids time, though. Then he lauded in Aus tria, and kept up tils Jollification until he hadn't a red left; hut all this time tie held on to the diamond, tsswusr it w as mine, not his. So one day he makes up his uilud to valine home, ami works his |kasago across to I'aliforuia, ami then, for tear lest he should la* teuiplde again, or gel robbed, liegs ami borrow* his way home. Now, that'! call pretty much of a temptation for a |>oor man to overcome, don't you* hook at the stone— it's w orih |sO,ux) as It '* cut, and that Mark Vary didn't kuow he wa goiug to get a penny for it, outside his wages, as agreed on. But he brought her on, all safe! It Isn't every man that would vio it—but the way 1 got rich was by looking In men's faces ami seeing if they're honest. Aud i never was wrong in judging a mail's charac ter in uylife.'' General Jack will not (ell you. what Is nevertheless the fact, that, after his famous diamond was cut, he had It appraised, and paid Mark Cary Its v alue, less the advances made to him and his family. He will not tell you of CaryC hue plantation and his tine prospects— ol how he is a temperate man, a good citizen and the best of fathers and hus bands—made so by General Jack's min istry. But he will show you the big diamond, it you cali upon biiu, with exquisite pleasure, and relate to you with much gusto such portions of its history as do not redect too great credit upou himself. I.e Cksrharl Whcu Louis I'hilippe had been a year upon the throue appeared the tirat ouuiter of /.• CWrirari, a daily paper of four small pages, conducted by an uukuown, interior artist, named Charles l'hilipon. Around him gatli ered a tiuniler of Bohemian draughts men and writers, not ouc of whom ap pcara then to have shared in the social or political life of the country, or to have had the faintest conception of the consideration due to a fellow-citizen in a place of such extreme dittieulty as the head of a government. I hev as sailed the king, his person, his policy, his family, his habits, his history, witli thoughtless and merciless ridicule. A |ieriodical which was undertaken to supply a cloyed fastidious public with three hundred and sixty-five ludicrous pictures per annum must often be in desperatinu for subjects, and there was no resource to i'tiilipoti so obvious or so sure as the helpless family impris oned in the splendors and etiquette of royalty. Unfortunately for modern govern meats, the people of Europe were for so niauv centuries preyed upon and oppressed bv kings that vast number* of |>eoplc. even in free count ries. still regard the head of a govern ment as a kind of natural enemy, to as sail whom isamong the rights of a citi zeu. And. moreover, the king, the president, the minister, is unseen by those who hurl the Imrlied and pois oned javelin, l'hey do uot see him shriuk and writhe. To many an ano nymous coward it is a potent consider atiou, also, that the head of a constitu tional government can not unuallv strike tiark Mr. Thackeray, who w as but nineteen when Louis Philippe came to the throne, witnessed much of the famous contest lietwecn this knot of caricatu rists and the King of the French, and in one of the tirst articles which he wrote for subsistence, after his father's failure, he gave ihe world some account of it. At a later period of hi* life he would probably not have regarded the king as the stronger party. He would would probably not have described the contest as one between "half a dozen poor artists on the one side, and hi* Majesty Louis I'hilimie, his august family, and the nnmberleM placemen and supporter* of the monarchy, on the other." Half a dozen poor art i*t*. with an unserupulou* publisher at their head, who give* them daily acre** to the eye and ear of a great capital, can arrav* again*t the object of their satire and abuse the entire unthinking crowd of that capital. A firm, enlight , etied, and coai|>etent king would have united against these a majority of the responsible and the reflecting, bitch a king would truly have been, a* Mr. Thackerav observed, "an Aiax girded at by a Thersites." But latin* Phi lippe was no Ajax' He was no hero at all. lie had no splendid anil no com manding trait*. He was merely an overfoud father and well-disposed citi zen of average talent*. He was merely the kind of man which free communi ties can ordinarily get to nerve them, and who will! serve them passably well if the task is not made needlessly dif ficult. Hence Philipon and hi* "half a dozen poor artists" were very much the stronger party—a fact which the king, in the sight and hearing of all Prance, confessed and proclaimed by putting them in prison. Th Gentleman Every man may lie a gentleman if he will—uot by getting rich, or hy gain ing access to that self-appointed social grade that claim* the exclusive right to give the badge of gentility— bat by the cultivation of those unselfish, kind and noble impulse* that make the gentleman. It i* too rarely we find among those who vote themselves the geutlemen and ladies of the day, any thing to warrant their assumption. There is but little of the true ruetal about them. Personal contact reveals arrogance and pride, and too often a meanness of spirit and a littleness t ht disgraces human nature. So far as our observation goes— and it covers many year* of contact with high and low, rich and jioor— we are constrained to say that, while among the poorer clasae* there is, as a general tiling, a sad lack of external culture ; of attention to little personal habit* that are not agreeable to others, and which ought to Is- corrcted ; there i* really in the lower and middle ranks of society, so called, quite as many true gentlemen and ladies as among those who claim the exclusive rigid to these honorable designations. The aprentice and the errand-boy, the man who digs a ditch or carries a hod, the mechanic aud the artisan, the shop-girl, the seamstress, the cook and the waiter, may he as truly gentlemen and ladies a* the richest and most cul tivated in the land. The qualities that make the lady and gentlemen are qua lities of the soul, there is no mouopolv or exclusive right to these. Header, no matter what your condi tion in life, resolve to In* a gentleman or lady. Cultivate not only the exter nal amenities and grace of true genti lity. but the iuncr graces that give these onter signs of their glory and i their strength. Aae r Minis The eagle, rsven, swan and parrot, are each centenarians. An eagle kept in Vienna died after a confinement of a hundred and fourteen years, and on an ! ancient oak in Shelborne, still know n as the "raven tree," the same pair of ravens art* believed to have fixed their residence for a series of more than ninety years. Swans upon the river Thames, about whose age there can Ist no mistake—since they are annually nicked by the Vintner's Company un der whose keeping they have been for five centuries—have bean known to sur vive one hundred and fifty years and more. The melody of the dying swan is mythological. Upon approach of death the bird quits the water sits down upon the banks, lays Its head upon the ground, expands its wings a trifle and expires, uttering no sound. CENTRE II V 1.1,. ('KNTBK CO.. PA.. THURSDAY, FEBRUARY *2-1. I7. Auctions all aver the World HY N. s. IHIIMiI. "f/iirugeAiUUj/v,' Artrug*/" or sounds iu*t like lliose, came floating on llie hot sir to Ned I'aullng last summer, a* In lay sw ingiiig la/ily in a net hammock, under an awning, on the deck of the ship "Betaoy." It was in port, af Smyrna, where the venael having dis charged her cargo, was watting for a home freight ol raisins, tig*, sun olives back to Boston, Ned bad Wen bard at ! work for six days. The last voucher had come atx>ard an hour tiefoia, ami 1 hi* accounts being now square, aud nothing more lor the supercargo to do ill! Jacohus Brothers, the consignees, should give notice that the home cargo i was ready, he had dressed himself for a stroll on shore, ami was waiting till early evening should make the heat tolerable In the streets. A tlrst voyage as supercargo, no mat ter how giMd a clerk a boy* may have lieen, trie- hi* mettle, lie must think for himself. His decisions must tie quick ami positive. Yea .INJ No he in list never say. It is one thing to sell gvKxls, or to keep books, or to take slock, or to strike balances, or to average pro tils every day in a store; but it is alto gether another tiling to take charge alone of a cargo consisting of all aorta of goods, shipped froi# Be-urn to a foreign port. However, Ned I'aullng had taken it. He rcuiemtiered his mother's last word*, many years liefore, "Straightforward, Ned! Straight for ward 1* the bc*t runner!" And the "Betsey'a" accounts were as square as any day's account* had ever been in Mate street. So Ned wa- rcadv for a "Ilaragr! liarui'! harage !' * kept ringing on the air, at Nod went ashore. In a -quare, three or four blocks from the whanoa, ou a platform of rough isiardt resting on tw o hogsheads, stood a turbaned Turk, cutting apart a piece of Tripoli silk shawling, flinging it at full length over the heads of the sur rounding crowd, and crying at the top of his lungt, "llarage!" There were Hebrews, with flow ing beards and dusky robes, among the bidders; there were camel-drivers, just like tlie picture one sees of Kleaier, tiie Syrian, at tlie well; tliere were Persians, in their quaint cajvs; dervishes, in their strange dret.*, ami muftis, sailors, (ireeks, Armenians, ltruses, Arahs, Copts, Egyptians, and people of every nation almost. In the motley gathering. The auctioneer is announcing a hid tic lias received, when Ned arrives. The auctioneer is a lin guist, and translates theotier into many tongue-. "Fifty piasters for twenty yards of Tripoli silk! Fifty plasters! Clinquatite plaster-! Humst-en grosh! EIH crnosh!" he keeps crying to his auditors. "Huuiseen grusli! HUHI-.-.-H grosli! ( litjquante piasters!" until Ned, know ing the value of silks, and think ing of ids mother, bid- !l fly-one piasters ami the piece of silk is hi-. Smyrna I- a mart for the whole world. Everybody who wants to trade goes tliere. Travelers to the East buy their horse- at Smyrna. After several months travel, they often return to Smyrna to sell them. A- it l the lirst jort visited in going to Palestine, -o it is the last that is left before cuiliarkitig for Eng land, Selling worn out horses bocotnea therefore, a very considerable business there, and It gives employment to quite a number of auctioneers. The moment a traveler enters the gat* of the town from the East, lie i aceied by several of these jversou- on the look-out lor a job. After nttlch haggling alsait wlist |>er cent, shall le paid UJMUI the price the horse sells for, the man selected vaults into the saddle anil rides off. Xo sooner is be on hi* way, than he liegins his cry, "llarage! harage!" looking around on every side for a bidder. Some one has said, "One hundred pls n-b-rs." Tlie auctioneer takes the man's addr<-s, and crying out, "llarage ! one huudml!" pursues his ride -lowly tlirougli the streets. The chances are that if the owner is strolling tlirougli the tow n, he w ill encounter his Steed more than once during the day. Hi price may have ad\anced to two linu dred and ten, and "Two hundred and ten!" his rider 1- crying aloud, w hen a l urk, who is quietly smoking his pipe, starts up in hi- shop, eyes tlie animal keenly, and -ings out, "Two hundred and twenty." The auctioneer makes no more to do, but dismounts immedi ately, throw-s the horse's bridle over its head, leads it up to the Turk, holds out his hand, and received the two hundred and twenty xlter-, after which lie walks off to tlie owner, ami punctually pay- the price, minus his own commis sion. Auctions in different countries are curious subjecta of study. In an auction in Spain, for int*nce, everything ac cord- with the national temper. There I# no noise, t ouversalton Is prohibited. The auctioneer is held to the description of goods. A bid Is made; lie of the hammer rcjieal* it; silence follows; another hid. another announcement of it. and another silence—all as serious and solemn as a prayer meeting, until the mallet falls. An auction-room In France, l on the contrary, a (wrfeet 11*1**1. In all noisy Paris there is nothing so noisy and boisterous a# a St. Antoine vendue, where piiminit ami fhifnnier* and "old elo* " Jews contend for cheap bargain#. There can Is* no greater contrast to j this hubbub than that which Is pre scnted by the dull decorum of an auc tion sale in Amsterdam or Rotterdam. There Mynheer auctioneer sits iiehiml a table smoking his pi|*e. He states terms of sale, waits for a hid, make# no haste, creates no excitement, watches no countenance, takes no nods or winks. Before him -lands a box filled with taj*er. If there Is too long delay, he lights one of these In sllen*e, and thrusts it on a spindle tixed in tin* table. When it goes out the last bidder takes the article. There is a curious old custom at Bill ingsgate —the great and well known flsh-market of I/ondon—of selling tlsli from the Inrnts a# they arrive every morning by an auction "of reduction, as it is called. Every boat-load is sold altogether. Twenty-five iff thirty sales are going 011 at nine. This "reduction" auction occurs in tlo* early morning, sometimes before light. Men and w nien Indiscriminately act a# auctioneers and the buyers also men ami women, walk up and down the docks scrutiniz ing the cargoes. A Ih'll ring# ami the salt's commence. In a large llat gon dola are bloaters, owned by the strap ping ti#h woman, who now logins to bawl to the buyers on shore as she stands on thelMiw*, "Here's your bloat ers—line, large Yarmouth bloaters; five shillings a entitle! Five shillings? Well, four ami fen|>ence he It tlon! Four and ten I Four and nine, then! Four and nine! Four and eight!" "I'll take 'em old woman, at four ami eight," cries a buyer from the land ing place, and forthwith the boat-load is Ills. Ami so It goes on for an hour, amid chaffing and scolding; screaming and swearing; the word# "Maek'rell," '"Allboat," "Stih*," "Salmon," "Coil," '"Aililock" shouted a hundred times all together; the boat* unloading; porters struggling; boys and girls counting the "hundreds" by themselves; fish monger# from the West End selecting; touters skinning eels and cleaning ctd; errand boys running; flsh women flout# ing each other, and everybody blowing up everybody else, until the great befi rings, which ends the auction hour and Opens the morning market.— St. Mirho- UlB. The Jwiruwra. The jaguar (/eft's unca) is the largest of the carnivora found on either of the American continents; aud its size, strength, and ferocity are such that It is often called the South American ti ger. It is found both in North and South America, generally between the troples, and as far north a# the Red river, 1.a.; and the larger specimen# are but little smaller than the average tlgi-r nl Asia. Ihe bright at the shoulder I* frequently tieaily three loot. The *klu i beautifully marked w Ith black circle* enclosing grayish poi, on a ground color varying from light brown to ashy yellow , nut the configuration of the lualks valie* w Idclv oil different #|K*Vl ineus, ami sometimes even uu the same animal. Humboldt -tales 2,000 jaguar skin* are annually exported from line no* Ayrea, ami liiey are ttiuelt value*! for their beauty. The habitat of the J.ignar I* generally a thick forest, es|e< ially lit the neigh borhood of a river, a* the animal *w iuit well, aud will catch llsli for its llieals w lien flesh Is scarce. \\ lien driven by hunger, it doc* not liesilale lo visit the alxHles of man, and If* strength enables it to kill and carry off a borne or a cow with ease, lu favorite mode of attack Is to leap on the victim's Itaek, and, by placing one paw on the head and the oilier on the muscle, to suddenly break its neck. It, however, rarely attacks man, ami then Its hunger and ferocity are such as to make it terrible. It is verv fond of turtles, and extracts the flesh from the shell with great skill. A writer asserts tlul the variation of the marks on the skin of the jaguar is due to climate influences, the s|>ccie* lieing found over territory ranging from deg. south latitude to 'iit deg. north, from the Argentine Kepubltc to Texas. Like Its Asiatic cousin the tiger, the Jaguar cannot be tauied, long confine ment, ample food, and kind treatment doing nothing to check its ferocity. It is therefore a constant source of alarm to the neighborhood where It lives, which alsrm l> not diminished by the tact tiiat its predatory excursions are always made at night. It Is exceedingly subtle, approaching It* prey noiselessly, and walking behind bushes or other screens till near enough for action ; It then uiakrs some slight noise with its tail, which alarms the victim ami sel dom fails to induce him to move to find the cause of the disturbance. The jag uar then springs ou the neck of the tirey, tear* the throat to pieces (or ireak* the neck, as above described), and carties off some portion of the car cass; next day it probably return tor another meal, and this gives an oppor tunity of tracking (tie least to his lair. Itut although the jaguar* are numerous in the region which we have mentioned as their home, their sagacity enable* them to keep weil concealed and out of t tie range of the rHte. The Old Irian Hn<r A tall, fair-hatred rata? seem in remote tilue* to have gut the up(>er hand ill Ireland, ami to have pors-ed them selves of tile greater part of the Country, the west and southwest becoming the home or the retreat of a shorter, dark Jieopie —the rem.Uti*, as some tiave con octured, of the pre-Aryan slock of tu roje. The same characteristic* were oka ! *• I 1!I Km !ri-h |*>pula!loll b) the KiigUsh wilier* in the country, and after Intermixture of ra.-es, emigration ami other disturbing agencies, they so continue to a large extent yet. l>ul>altacli MacKlrhisigli, a leartiwl Irisli genealogist, whose work was com piled in I'ihO, i* no doubt recording an ancient tradition when lie tell* us that every one w ho i white-skinned, brow n haired, iHiiintlful in the liestowal on the liard* of jew els, wealth and ring*, not afraid of a battle or Combat, is of < lautia- Miled the Irish native lioliillty, tin* "Milesian*" of some writers); every one w ho is fair-hatred, big, vindictive, skilled in music, druidry and magic, all these are of the Tuatha lb- l>aiiatin; while the black-haired, loud-toilglird, mischievous, tale-loving, tnhospttahle churl*, the dlsturhera of assriiiidles, who love not music and entertainment, these are of the Feru-Rolg, tlie Feru iHnutiann, ami the other conquered people*. It wilt l>e seen that 111 this iardn enumeration of Irish race* Mac- Kirhislgh places between the hlg-hodled ami fair-haired people am! the hlack haired st.iek a sort of Intermediate tvpe. Ki-fiTi'iHTf to Ireland iti clawit'al writer- art*. a* l w *ll known, Ipm ami meagre. In Ptolemy *f luvw a bare 11*1 of name* of trH*r ami tow no, and of aoinr leading natural feature* of the country. Here and then* ore find a name that U Identifiable with a modern on. Of■kit, for example, I# probably the river Avoca, ami the trltc name of the Krdlnl perhnp- survive# In that of IxM-h Kirtie. No the Boy tie, Irish lioind, was known a# the IL-r-rirda nearly tan thousand years ago. The people of the neighlmring continent had little tnnre than heard of a remote island where the legion* of Koine aeeui never to have been, known a* Invrrna. lerne, llil>er nia, variant# of the native AVia—or ratlier of an older form—a name signi fying the Western land. It.# inhahitanta called themselves, at a very early period, as their descendant* do to-day in their own touttue, tiaidel; but it is not bv this name that they ttr#t flrurr promi nently on the page of reliable history. It Is In the year Ski, and in years imme diately following, that the Sootl, mar auder# from Ireland, perhaps some dominant trile or tribe# there, are tlrat heard of, ravaging the portion of Nor thern Britain south of the Forth of Clyde, in the company of tattooed I'ictl and ferocious Attacot*. A generation later t'lamliaii, ill well-known lines, makes Britlannia tell how "Stlllcho came to her aid when the Scot moved all lerne, and his hostile galleys lashed ocean Into foam." Porphyry, too, as quoted by St. Jerome, group# the Irish clans as "Scot lea* gentcs." While It Is thus possible to form an idea who the Scot! were, the |x*ople with whom they are found associated in the page# of Atnoiianus, the Picts, who have l*ecn the subject of such long and acrid con troversy, are in some resjiectsan obscure race enough vet. They seem to have lieen the old Celtic Inhabitants of Nor thern Britain, called Caledonians by the earlier Roman writers. It Is cer tain tiiat In the fourth century they punctured the figures of animals on their bodies; hut their name, though thought by the Roman# to designate tlie Painted People, Is, probably, a* little Roman in its origin a# that of their barbarous allie#, the Scot), or that of the Plctones or Pletavl In the modern Pol ton.—Eraser'* Magminr. The Neven Wise Hen. Most people have heard of the "seven wise men of Greece," but very few know who they were-or how they came to la* called so. Here is the story ol them, and the moral of It Is worth re inemlH'ring If their names are not: The seven wise men of Greece are sup|M*#ed to have lived in the. fifth cen tury before Christ. Their names are I'itUieus, Bias, Solon, Tltales. Chilon, Cleobulus, and Prelander. The reason of their being called "wise" is given differently by different authors, hut the most approved accounts state tlmt as some Coaus w ere Ashing, certain stran gers from Miletus bought whatever should la* in lite nets w Knout seeing it. When the nets were drawn In they wore found to contain a golden trl|*od which Helen, as she sailed from Troy, Is sup posed to have thrown In there. A dispute arose between the fisher men and the stranger# as to whom it belonged, ami as they could not agree they took it to the temple of Apollo, aud consulted the priestess as to w hat should fie done with It. She said it must Ik* given to the wisest man In Greece, and It was accordingly sent to Thales, who declared that Bias was wiser, anu sent It to him. Bias sent It to another one, and so on udlll It had passed through the hands of all the men,afterwards distinguished by the title of tlm "Seven Wise Men," ami as each one maimed that some one was wiser than he, it finally was sent to the Temple of Apollo, where, accord ing to some w rlters, It still remains, to teach the lesson that the wisest are the most distrustful of their wisdom. rite of IMet la amiability. G.HSI digest lon ami goo! humor In variably wall upon each oilier. A* there la no one more ill-natured than lite con Armed dy*|>e< He, ao lliere is no one more jolly and genial than the habitual eupepllit. No man rise* from a hearty and satisfying lueal to revile ami Injure his neightror; this comes, if at all, be fore dinner, or If after dinner, a* a |rr tial result of something partaken of that doe* not agree with film. lx-t any Intelligent ainl thoughtful philanthropist make luliiuslr acquain tance with tlii* lovn-r Kriili 1 ) <tf reatao ranla ainl eating-houses In our business centers, let It tut try to nour *h hia own frame with the br<-n<l ami meat ami veg etable* there tertinl to the hungry, ami no one will m-ed to tell htm why there are an many lienor aaioona ami tobuit) thuut In our large cities, or why there la such an inaatlate crating in the lower classes for unwholesome stluiu lua. The rei-onla of crime ahow that our |ieulU*ntiariea are Hilled chiefly froui thoaeclaaaea who are inauttlcieiilly nour iaheit. Hunger in the atomach or in the liaauea ilrivea iliem into crime. Though "matt iloea not live hy bread alone," ami It la possible lo rise superior U mere physical want for a time, vet. In the main,good cheer ami cheerfulneaa are In ae|>arahle.To aatiafy the hunger that suc ceeded Christ's forty day* of fasting In the wilderness no human vlamla could aulllce. Angelic liauda had prepare Ilia food and miuiatered to Him. It la piti ful to think how few of the millions in our country, abounding a It dura in the necessaries ami luxuries of life, are really well fed. How many families suiter every day for the want ol nutri tious ami excellent food, and thla not liecause of any lack in the raw material, hut from ignorance of the w ay in which the material they may have lie advanta geously prepared for ihe table. It would astotiiah many a housewife to be told that the Irritability of her children, the petulance of her hushaml, and her own low spirits, are due ill whole or In |*ri to that starved condition of the tissues resulting from imperfect nutrition; that if site would mix and hake her bread with care and skill and brains, that if she would have her j*iUU<k*s mealy and while, instead of water-logged ami soggy, tiiat if her llieala were delicately boiled or broiled or baked, instead of having all their Juiciness and flavor drowned In a sea of boiling tat, that If she provided only foods for her house hold, rejecting condiment* and all dys peptic provocative*, harmony ami peace and sunshine would reign at tier fire side. .surprising a* such a statement might be, would it not in many and many a <-*ae ire true? If tender calve*, allulrrials during the day, were fed corn ami meal and oat-, instead of milk, would tliey not die? Itut tender chil dren are given meats and sweetmeats ami camly ami cake and pie. at all sorts of Irregular timet, ami when, under tills monstrous treatment, they cry ami sicken and die, their fond mother* won der what in the world ails them, and talk about lite mvsierioua dis|<etisatiotis of I iivine Providence. But those mo thers w ho exercise the sauie regularity and discretion and aelf-oontrol In feed ing their children that they use toward the young of inferior animals, have small complaint to make concerning fretfulliCM, decayed teeth, waulofap- I .elite, ami delicacy of health in their families. It I* not possible when the stomach is in flamed by unwholesome stimulants, such as black pepper, strong tea and coffee, alcoholic liquor*, pun gent pickle*, ami the like, or w hn it I* loaded with rich pastries, highly sea soned di-lies, ami composite culinary alximinatioiiK, for the temper to remain uniformly serene and uiihi. Continual indulgence in such fare wilt bring on some form or other of physical de rangement that wilt manifest itself In infirmity of temper or nervous depres sion, or falling health, thus showing that errors on the side of superfluity ami uuneeded stimulus are a* Injurious as those resulting from scanty and In sufficient nutriment Next to tlie mo ral training of children, and as foun dation for it, the food they cat. a* to quality, quantity, and regularity of *u|- plv, I* of prime importance, and those who will exiM-riment carefully in this matter will flml that In a large degree it is iMwtslhle to diet children ami grown people also into amiability and g*d ties*. Clothes. W hen our woman relates to another the history of some eventful turiiing |siut or crisis iu her life, say* the Um tlou H'orfJ, it is ten to oue if the lallter do not interrupt the story h.v inquiring eagerly, "W hat did you wear?" Ciitil tiiat question ia answered she llmls it difficult to identify herself witli her friend's adventure*, or, indeed, to take any particular interest in litem what ever. I kmbtleas llelen of Troy never forgot the color of the rol*e she wore when she passed for the last time# Paris' sighe ere leaving hitu for ever; and Ninon de I'Kuclos could have told you the prvcist fashion in which her hair was dressed on the day the Abbe de Bern's fell in love w Ith her. seventy-two years of age and a grandmother; or IHana of Putc tlers the shape of the dashing riding hat that shaded her handsome face when Henry saw and loved her so des perately. So that after all the question Is true to human nature, and, indeed, the formula, "What did you wear!*" or the still more interesting one, "What wilt you wear?" may la* looked u|k>ii a tlie only two certain forms of speech that can Is* safely reckoned on to pro ceed out of the mouth of that most lin es'ruin tiling, woman ; for, ts* #he chaste as Lucre! ia, cold as I Ban. or tickle as Apa#ia, she la neither cold nor indiff erent nor tickle to her clothes. Some one has said that dress forms the delight of one-half of aw oman's life, ami the torment of the other. Then* Is a grain of truth in the remark, al though the originator of it blinked the fact Uiat dress is not outside her life; It Is part and parcel of It as much a# the air she breathe*—no more to la* put away from her than Iter own Individuality, to Im* slighted than her own dignity. From the very cradle a woman child Is impressed with the importance and re s|K*oubillty of her "clothes." "Yes, Miss Mary, you may go and play for a Utile while, but If you tumble your clothes you'll catch it." This exhorta tion, with variations, has probably l**en addressed to every well-brought-up lit tle girl since the deluge, and wUI doubt less continue to In* fashionable long af ter we and our great grand-children have departed tills life, l'he mental struggles of Miss Mary during the pro teas ol her early Initiation into the sa cred rites of the religion of dress are no less plU*otlM than ludicrous. A deep sense of depression w eigli# upon her childish spirit as she see.# her brothers, fortunate In the |ioaession of Jackets and knickerbockers, jumping and rac ing in an ecsUcy of enjoyment, deterred by no aueh fears of "tumbling" them selves as lie heavy uihui her. If she Is a little prig she will work this feeling of envy ott In a 111 of spleen, affecting a contempt for her brothers' romping games, pretending to prefer a talk with her doll—an idiotic sham that at heart she thoroughly despises; if she has a spirit she will lling prudence to the winds, and dash into the melee heed less of rent* and damages, enjoying herself keenly, though she knows all too well the awful punishment that awaits Iter when the powers that be dis<*over the disrespeet she lias dared to show her "clothes." As she grows bigger -lie will show more sense, connecting Sun day with the day when she wears a li lac-silk frock, and a hat with a white feather, looking forward to a children's party as an occasion on which she w ill be able to shine forth in white muslin aud rose-colored ribbons, eclipsing other little girls, whose mothers are not so particular about appearance as her own. .She will even have a mild con- Terms: $2 a Year, in Advance. tempt and pity for Tom, IMrk, ami Harry (whom a short time ago ahe > bitterly mi tried) in that their utmost at tempt at aelf-bedlzeiituenl can go no farther than daneing-hoea ami white glove*, if Ml** Mary's mother ia friv olous, ami addicted to the ooininou weakness of ftriring to outdo her neigh bor* In the magiillh-enee of her apparel (only lo tie beaten herself at the next pas* age of arm*) Mary wilt grow up one of that terrible class of women who *lemi their lives in decorating the jxx>r lierlahable lasiie* that were originally made—lf they only knew It—to lutdo** a aoul, instead of being turned litlo slgiiltoards, on which to display every caprice, absurdity, and extravagance the heart of milliner can oooceive. Yet, If the care and consideration she IM**4OW* oil dres* were devoted to • uie ennobling pursuit or useful occupation, *he might tie transformed from a mere walking to a reasoning, sensible human la-lug; but tliisahe can never lie until she lias renounced the overmastering |ta*aion. and by so doing purged her xrlf of the tie basement slid deterioration of mind that are Its inseparable hand maiden*. It might surprise her tokuow that one tpiarier of the time she daily ex (tend* on her toilet would suffice to teach Iter at least one language thor oughly in the twelvemonth, or thai by using lite hours the formerly frittered away in hesitating over this color or that, she might educate In-rself so thor oughly a* to have some ground to go upon should she ever elect to advocate woman* rights, which we should atronglv adtise Her not to do. It might *haim- her to know that site was not en dowed with life Ui make herself simply an object for tueu'a delectation and wo men's jealousy; for to thl* end does site presumably seek to atlaiu when she spend* her whole existence ill seeking the most becoming modes of arraying herself, although, ala*, she often falls lamentably short of her purpose, since, man, who arc neither fools nor puppies, like simplicity of attire; and among women of fashion U is next to lm|*># sible to be Aral In richness of clothe# fur any length of time. If Miss Mary only knew It, men do but ask to see their mothers, si*ters, and w eethearl* daintily clean and fresh in all their arrangements and appoint ments. a* pleasing to the eye as modes ty and muderatlou permit; but they hate liiis loud, gtewdy, all-absorbing demand fur admiration' and pre-eminence in dre- s that appears U> have fastened upon the girls and w omen of our day like a deadly disea-e, lni{osible U> be shaken off or eradicated. They couhi tell her Uiat more pallid hard-worked fathers and husband* are killed by this same love of "clothes" than by any sicklies* or hurt of body, and that it tnake* them marvel a* to w list uiauner of men the future getieratioM w ill be with such ex amples of levity and extravagance be fore them a* tiieir mother* bid fair to set. t*o far a* we can remember, our grandmothers were not bitten with this ex-e*iie mania for fine taim-nit. I nallsb Wants. We dud uieu advertised for who arc well up in frying t!li and |teeling pota toes ; w ho are accustomed to mind baked potatocan*; who are pie maker*, need to the pie and eel; wbo are <xmifil mak ers, used to steam pan*; who are accus tomed to ojien oysters; who are vegeta ble cooks. Accompanying these are uien used to corks: who can get up clubs; who hate ■ thorough know ledge of dressing; who are doilymeri. or ex je-riemed in washing by liand-piiiich; who can push the sale of hxi.ttns.lt Uiasgow hiM-nits, or have no objection to nu-hlng that readier article of pro pulsion— a truck; who can rub down and flat; who are used to the round knife, or the ground-off saw ; who can do a round; w ho can stuff well; who mre milkers; feeders; used to boiliug room: to cart war-work: to lumpier and shovel; ami who can kill. Sdme men, l<e it known further, are clickers. ~ine are w vbbcra, some are rougli-stuff cut ters, nunc are 1 asters, some are paste titter*, children's pump men. flowerers, military heeler*, leather-*!rap binders, stahlN-rs. and finisher*. Some are sew round hand*. Some arc operator* on -ole-newers, some are needle-aud-Uiread hands; some, again, are cleaner*-up. Kach inenitier of thl* last group lielong# hi the hoof and shoe trade, the lilviskm# lieing further sectioned off. In a by-way sort of manner, into finisher* on wo men'*, finisher* on light women'#, fin ishers on children's, finisher* on light children's, and—a little more bravely— finisher* on men's. Remarking upon the *ani divisions and suislii isioti*. it must Is- said that they are undoubtedly very odd. Turning the Inquiry, for the present, on this one pivot, is the term boot-maker a delusion ? Can one man no more make a jmlr of boot.*, than an <Hher can make the symbolic pin? It would aopear *o. Boot* have—nay, a solitary boot ha* —to he clicked, to be rough-cut, to be lasted, to be riveted, to tie w cbted, to is- paste-fitted, flow ered, military-heeled, sewn round, IMMUUI at the strap, stahlied, fliilshed, cleaned up, to *ay nothing of chosen, tried on. nited, sold; and a small bat talion of men would be required for It. No blame to the British workman for quailing, single-handed, from the un dertaking. ami rejecting it!— All the Ymr KOIUHI. SflMsi* The love of self I# the root and centre and animating spirit of all evil. But It* forms and aspect* are indefinitely diversified. It exi*t and operate# on many different plane* of thought and life. Sensuality t# It* lowest, inoal gen eral expression. But it also takes the ap|H'srance of covetousue**, or of some oilier of the gros* and vulgar form# of vice. It Is, however, coni|*lible with all excellence of external behavior. For a man may sliun all open sin, and give aim*, and be very u#effl, and do all lhl from the love of self, lie may expect hi* reward in Hie applause of men, in the advancement of his position In the world, or ill promoting hi# success In life. He may find full recomjiense for lit# self-restraint in the complacent be lief licit, oi Ids own strength and by hi# own unaided effort*, he ha* become better than other men. lie lias done the work, aid he give* himself the glory for it. He is a god unto himself, and hi# apparent virtue* are the morn ing and evening sacrifice upon the altar of self. This is the last, and it is the worst, form of self-love. Krllrr Ininllmiln Srll In Rail rmxl Arrldrnlt. The KnglUh accident did, however, establish one thing. If nothing elae; it showed the Immeasurable superiority of the system of Investigation pursued In the case of railroad accident* in Eng laiul over that pursued in thU country. There n trained expert after the wx*ur renoe of each disaster visit* the spot and sifta the affair to the very bottom, locating reA|on*lbliity and pointing out distinctly the measures necessary to guard against its repetition. Here the caw* goes to a eorotter's Jurv whose findings as a rule admirably sustain the ancient reputation of that august tribu nal. It Is absolutely sad to follow the course of these investigations, they are conducted with such an entire dUre gard of method and lead to such inade quate conclusions. Indeed how could it be otherwise? The saute man never investigates two accidents, as for the one investigation he does make lie is competent only in his own esteem. — The Atlnntir Monthly. PlfSMßlr}. There is as much merit In catering to the humorous side of our nature as to the sober and sedate. Men and women were made to laugti and indulge in pleasantries just as much as to pray and fast. Because a face Is uncommonly long instead of wide, it docs not follow that its possessor is a first-class saint. We would as soon trust a countenance got up on the broad as the long guage. NO. 8. rot mir rotrn*. A Str liny to sleep.—Many of yon, children, hare your maida who go witii you when uuture tolls yon that you need a nap, while your little brother and aiatei have their nurse*. or per hapa the kind mother aomefituee. to "iiuah a-bye" them to aleep. How do you suppose the little one# are put to aleep in the mountainoua district* of India t Years ago I saw It and it la a tuoal curiooa diatom. Wherever there ia a Honing atreaiu of water conveni ent, a alied ia built and under it troughs of atone tilled from the stream. From theae (tough* there are liuie hollow ieed* which ap<nit out the water with a gentle and light fail, and under theae ■prays of water the children are placed juat an that the water play* on their foreheads. It pat* them to sleep in stantly and they aleep aotiudly and well, too. aud don't wake np every few minute* with a little whimper, like some children do whom I have heard of. These little Indians never catch cold in tiieir heads sud they grow up strung and healthy men. Whether the water-eleep does (much to make them healthy. 1 do uot know, hut I have seen dor-en* of children sleeping this way and they all MM*UI UI like it. 1 never saw one who didn't. Tell your uid family doctor about it, and see if be think* a* much of the process a* Grip doea. Little /feefle/iew.—< n of the great est or German musical composers was Ludwig Yon Beethoven, who was born at Bonn, on the. If blow, the 17th of De cern tn-r, 177 U. While quite a child, be would leave his plays and Ins ptrture-books when ever his father sat down to the piano to practise, and would stand by bis side, and listen to the tnuaic with de light. When his father woold take him on his lap, and show turn how to strike the keys with his finger*, Ludwig would pay the chmeat attentiou; ana. when his father roue to leave the instrument, the little fellow would cry, ".Show ne more, dear papa: please show me mote." Ludwig began to take regolar lea son* in music when be H only five years old. At the age of thirteen, he published several compositions, which showed that be had been a diligent scholar. He soon proved himself to be a musician of the highest order, and n*>k rank with Haydn and Mucart. There is a fine bronze statue of Beet hoven in the Boston Music Hall. He lived till the year The study of his music in this country, within the last few years, haa greatly extended. lU* ft rating Provtrla. —One day, the little school ui a'am asked the children to select a proverb among themselves for illustration. Tbev didn't quit# un derstand thia, but, nevertheless, they settled upon one and handed it in : "lt*a4auoa* l tt UuJudm IfcMS." ''Good!* said she. "Now I should like to have you each bring on Friday a composition or a quotation, or an ob jeeW of some kind, or whatever you please, illustrating this provarb." Welt, they did so. Some, lam told, brought little *torte; others brought < <>igpo#:tion*; "tie little girl brought a warm but faded siiawl; and ooe home ly, clever little chap audaciously iu ought his owu photograph ! Ooe and all came off with honors, but the crowning illustration of all was Tom McC'lintock's -, lie simply brought a picture of a camel's bead, looking aa if it had iust leen saying "prunes" and "prism, and knew quite well of it* own excellent qualities. Not a word did Tom Mrt'lintock writ#, beyond the proverb. He knew his camel could speak for itself.—Nf. A itkoUufor Fe bruary. Calahath tret. —One of my turd* bus {uat Ix-en telling me about a tree that, ie said, "grew dishes." In hi# native iaiands— of the West Indies— be has seen a tree, in height and size resembling an apple-tree, calletl a calabash-tree. It lias wedge shaptKl leaves, large whitiah, fleatiy hloMMuus. that grow— where do you think T—not like those of moat other fruits, on the smaller aud outermost branches, but on the trunk and btg branches. The fruit that succeed# the flower is tunch like a com ntmi gourd, only a good deal stronger, and it often measure* twelve inches in diameter. Tbe hard shell of thia fruit is cut into vat ion* -hape* bj the natives, and ia sometimes handsomely carved. It ia made into dripking-eops, dishes, pail*, and even pota. lea. they aay that these calabashes actually can be used over the lire for boiling water, lust aa yon would nse a pot. But the calabash pot gives out alter a few such trials, and i unfit for further service.—Nf. \irholnt for February. Flourrt >m sew (Wore.—Well, well! What will your Jack hear n#rt T The bird* tell liini that a Professor Gobha has succeeded in changing the colors of cut flowers to suit his own fancy. Bather an unnecessary piece of work, one wonld say, as Mowers generally choose their own color# pretty wisely. Still you may like to hear about it: The Professor simply pours a small quantity of common uqu a ammonia in to a dish, liver tins he places a funnel ihig end down), in the tube of which are inserb-d the flowers he wishes to to change. What happen# then t Ah. my ruicka, that'# just what your Jack wishes to know! Wonderful change* take place, I am told. The first time you have a flower to spare, just huv ten eeuta' worth of aqua am monia at the nearest drnggist's, try Professor Gobha'# experiment, and re port to Jack.— St. Nirhoht. ,1 Fine-hundred-dofhtr (3 at. —"Yes. sirs,—a five-liundred-dollar cat," said lVai-on Green yesterday to three little chap* who were walking with htm. "Lately, at the Sydenham Palace, near London, was held a Cat Show , where over four hundred were exhib ited. Thepriw eat won a premium of A's—twenty five dollars. He's a splen did fellow. nam>d 'Tommy 1 >odd'— nine years old. and considered worth Tilth or five hundred dollars. Tbe Heaviest specimen in the show weighed .# few- ounces over eighteen pounds. There's s cat for you, young gentle men !"— St. Skhohut far February, A little oil iM VM once asked how WHO came to he a t bristiau, aud answered: "Why, I just aaw the uoor open, and I wont in. I hf Trlrirnpb In lb* Afrlcnn Dfwrla A correspondent writing from Berlia, in iropieabnifHca. says; "It was singu lar to meet willi the telegraph 'u the heart of the desert beiweeu Aryab and Herbs; not the telegraph put up In working order a* we see It In Europe, but all theappurtenHiioesof that Instru ment of civilisation carried on the hacks of hniidredsof camels, which l&deu with coils of wire and hollow iron josts, trod their toilsome path through the burning sand. Kvcrv now and thou we met one of tiiese poor boasts,which overweighted and broken down by the weight of his load, hud fallen 011 tin* ground and been abandoned a victim totbe vultures. All this telegraphic gear was marked "Se mens Brothers, London, and was en route to Khartoum, from which town it will he forwarded 011 to span the desert between Kordofan and Darfour. A good many lives will probably be sacrificed las fore the line can be considered open, as the Arabs, who eagerly steal every piece of iron they can meet with for their spear points, have to be very se verely punished before they leave off cutting down the poles. How ever, this difficulty once got over, the telegraph will IK* ns easily w orkea as one between Khartoum and Cairo, which when it was first laid down was continually be ing interrupted. -London Times. Love Is shown by actions, not by words. m FOOD FOR;THOOOBT. Kit in yoor own place, mid no man can inake ju rise. Hoft hoarta often harden, but soft head* never change. Talent and virtue are #a frelequantly hereditary than the gout. In deception. Faith diet; Happiness l* more ciedulou# than misfortune. To confide too much la to put your lemons Into another man'* squeezer. No one ran he happy without a friend and no one ean know what frlenda he haa ontll he La unhappy. A good action is never tlirown away, and tliar la why ao few of thorn are neei) lying around Jooae, We all are at una*t the lieauUful colors *t reaming all over the weatern sky, but no one oo caq behold the hand that overturn* the uru# whence these *tream* are poured. ' The great t*ll of China, at IVkln, la thirteen feet in diameter. The daughter of ita founder la raid to havo thrown herself into the molten ma** lit order to aeeure through huineti sacrifice, a per feet eaatlug. !n a collection of tan* la London, la one made by a lady of Normandy. The beautiful lace work (a woven of her golden hair, and the *tlek* are inlaid with delicate |o|Dhed crescent* made of her finger nail*. The successor of Lord Kortbbrook a* Governor-General oi India, Lord Lyt lon, ia Liter known by hi* how Jr plums UVB Meredith. flfe entered diplo matic service In lit* eighteenth year, at Washington, and haa been in sendee ever 4ncy. lie la how forty-live year* of age. Wllkie Collins i* aald to he the author of till* valuable hint: "No other human pursuit I* so hostile to the influence .of the fenisle *ex as the purult of athletic sports. No men are so entirely lieyond the reach of women a* the men w how lives are passed in the cultivation of their own physical strength.' Candle liglit Is generally considered to en hams- the beauty of oue'a face and com|dexion, and we are told that It will he the ia*hiou this winter to use wax candies at |*rlie* instead of apt*. Young ladle# who have more freckle* than they know what to do with, wilt read thl* with gratification. There are now eight pin factories in the United Slates, which make 47,000,- UOO pins daily. In addition to these the importation* of (tins reach J5,000,000 dally. A* these are easily sold, it D safe to ssy that 71,010,000 of pin* are kt dally, or &2,OU> every minute. Where they all go is the wonder. "Healthy I**l v. healthy appetite, healthy feelings, though *< come oiled with weillor-rity of talent, unad rned with wit and imagination, and unpol ished by learning and science, will o#t rlp In the rare for happipes* the splendid irregularities of genius. anl tne mo*t dazzling success at ambition." —Greet lie'* Mr mole* of Grortft IY. In some exquisite hints on "every thing," Goethe remarks, "that the best composition In picture# ia that which observing the usual delkata law* of haruiuuy, so arranges the objects that tlsey by thr'r position, toll their own story.'' A d the rule thus applied to cosiposStio i lb |ialnting applies no las# to composition in literature*—{Bulw Ifffia The gam- at love is the same whether the players he clad in velvet or In hod den gray. Beneath the glided ceilings of a palace, or the lowly rafters of a cabin, there are the same hopes and fears, the sane jealousies, and distrusts and drqiotidiug; the wiles and strata gem* are all alike; tor, after all, the stake l human happiness, whether he who risks it be a peer or a peasant! A custom observed In many old French castles at this epoch Is the fete of the first fire. After dinner an Im mense bowl of punch Is introduced and the ho#tea invite# her gnests to sit around It; it l set on fire, and Hie blue flame# nerve to light a piece of pajx-r which In turn Is atqded to the logs, and soon the chimney Like* the bright as pect it will retain for seven month*. It ia Mary Murdoch Mason who di vide- her sex Into three classes—the giddy butterflies, th<- busy bee# and the woman*# fighters. Ttw Am are pretty and silly, lite sacond plain and useful, the third mannish aud odious. The first wear long, trailing dresses and smile at you while waltzing; the second wear apron* and giro you apple dump lings; and the third want your manly prerogative, your dres* coat, your money and your vote. Sir John Bennett, the AM>-rutan and well-known watchmaker in the city at London, <Miver*d a lecture the other day, during w Inch he weir the follow ing happy metaphor: "You ean slop a nock at any moment," He said, "but • you cannot *top a w atch. So it la wllli the talk of men and women. Man i- a great, ugly, coarse machine, imt you can silence him. H omau ia a beauti ful, fragile. Jeweled thing—but ahe will run on till she stop# of herself. Imagination I# central; faocy Is su perficial. Fancy relate* u surface, in which a great |*rt of life lie*. The lover I# rightly ald to fancy the hair, eyes, complexion of the maid. Fancy is a wilful, imagination a apontaneou* act; fancy, a play a* with doll# and pup|iet* which we chouse to call men ami women ; imagination, a perception and affirm log of a real relation between a thought and some material far*. Fancy ainu-e*; iinagiuatioti expands and exalts us. St. Andrew the a|***tle 5s the "patron saint" of Ncotlaud. He was tir*t a dis ciple of Hi. John the Ra joist, and ap pear* to ktft been the first to follow Christ. For tiii* twon it Is supposed that the place of honor hat boon riven !to him In the Anglican praver book, where he come* fir-t of all tbote com memorated. But little it known of hint, although he is believed to have suffered martyrdom at the Patra, In Greece, A. D. 70, by being rradfltd on a cross in the forni of an What folly la it, that with such rare about the body which la dying, the world which is perishing N*re our •yc. time which is perpetually disap pearing, we should so little care about that eternal state in which we are to live forever, w'heu this dream la over! When we shall have existed ten thou sand rear= in a net tier world, where will be all the can and fear- and en joyments of this f In what light shall WE then look U|HMI the things which now transport us with joy or over whelm us with griet?—J. lea*. Longfellow was at one time a profes sor in Bowdoio College, and the college paper, 7V Orirut, recalls an amusing anecdote of him. I taring a French rec i tat ion he called a pen a student who had evidently made Utile or no prepara tion and w a-'prouipted by liis classmates very audibly. The professor gave no heed to the prompting, but let the stu dent blunder through his paragraph, and w beu the reugg man was seated quietly said: ' Your recitation reminds tne of "the Stuuiish theatre, where the ' prompter plays a more, important part than the actor," Sir Edmund Deuiaon the designer of the Westminister clock, recently gave a sort of "clinical" lecture upon it at Ixmdon. The oloek-room, a lofty chamber, 28 feet by 18 fleet, waa well tilled. The cluck was made in 1854. The lecture delivered from behind the clock itae-if—the frame of which is nearly 18 feet long by 4 feet 7 inches wide, the flies revolving some 20 feet overhead. The winding or the striking part, which is done by band, is con tracted for at 4500 a year. It takes place twice a week, and lasts bve hours at each operation. The first stroke of the honr is given when thecluck reaches the 60th second of the last minute of the hour preceding the fourth quarter, being let off about twenty' seeouds be fore the now;, so that it has finished le --fore the hour begins. Never put off until to-morrow what you can do to-day. Never trouble another for what you call do yourself. Never spend your money , before you have it. Never buy what you don't want because its cheap. I*ride costs more than hunger, thirst and cold. We seldom repent of having eaten too little Nothing is troublesome that we do will ingly. liow much parti the evils have cost us that never happened! Take things always by the smooth handle. When angry count ten before you speak; If very angry count a hundred.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers