Outside.
Just s gleam through the dsrkns**
The lift of two eyes from a book,
A glance—but some glances are heaven '
To sr.ch eyes 'tie given
To crea e Paradise in a look.
Just a face in the lamplight ;
A hand, and some glittering hair ;
Rut hearts have been broken, 'tis said.
And white steel turned red
For faces less faultlessly fair !
Merely a girl in her beauty.
Her glory of freshness and youth.
Rut what ha* < artli better to sigh for
To live for-to die for—
Than innocence, beauty and youth '
Monument anil Turf.
Pull in the midst of ibe*e gray hounds
A lordly stone upswsll* ;
The scroll, that thrice its hulk surrounds.
The passing sti anger tell*
Of what renowned line he came.
Who 'ueath the marble lies.
What deed* be wrought of mark and fame.
That live when mortal dies.
And deep i* gravis! how high his worih
Was prised, how widely Known,
What honors crowned him from his lurth.
What grief h*d raised the stoue ;
Yet he sleeps calmly on beneath.
Where Silence mocks at Fame ;
Nor hee>t* the pomp made over death.
This blazon of his uame. •
Some paces off and thon wilt see
A grave of simple sßow,
As lowly and re ired as he
Had l>een who rests below ;
High rsuk and riches kept afar.
While they enjoyed their day.
The high and low - what social bar
May now divide their clay*
No honor* mark the poor man's toiub.
This green, secluded spot,
Yst still the pansy's purple bloom
lVix-laim* him uot forgot;
No graveu stoue recline* above
To aiouru the humhle dead.
But wi>inan's grief and children's love
Redew the hallowed bed.
Nor here is any record bung
Of lineage and race.
The turf alone tell* whence be sprung.
Who fills this narrow space : *
Hi* virtues slumber with his dust,
I'tunwked of and unknown ;
But trod, m Wconi reixwed his trust.
Receives Him for His owu.
c\a'nbrrs' JvurtuL.
What Cured Mrs. Nugent.
A large, elegantly furnished bedroom,
that was the very ideal of luxurious com
fort and convenience. It was a picture
of artistic beauty and tasteful wealth,
and the sweet, lovely faee, lying on the
laee-edged pillows, was itself a picture,
with its pure, ivory complexion, dark,
wistful eyes, heavy brows and lashes,
and the luxuriant golden hair that
trailed almost to the floor as the invalid
swept it wearily aside.
She had been lying there such a long,
wearisome time, and she didn't get any
better—rather, she grew weaker and
more nervous with every passing day,
although her sweetness of temper did
not desert her, nor her patient endur
ance.
Everv day for months Dr. Gnuwmere
would drive up in his carriage and make
his professional visit, anil leave his
orders for the day, and then drop in
Mr. Nugent's study below and report
Ami yet Mrs. Nugent did not get well;
and there came to be a look of fear aud
jam in her husband's face, and one of
puzzled dismay on Dr. Grassmere's
countenance.
" I am entirely at a loss to account for
your wife's persistence in remaining ill,
Harry. I've given lier enough tonic to
euabie her tp shoulder a cathedral, and
yet there she lies as you see her—jiatient,
resigned, obedient, but—no better. I
can't see that there is any organic
trouble anywhere. Beyond a general
debility and depression wf spirits, noth
ing ails her."
Harrv Nugent I<> ked anxiously in the
good-natured l ace of this trusty, sensi
ble old doctor, who had ben the family
physician of the Nugent* ever since the
time he had ushered yonug Harry into
the world—twenty-five years ago—who
had known him well, as baby boy, and
man. and who was fiieud and adviser.
" Ilut she suffers, doctor, she certainly
suffers. Tnere are times when she is
verv faint, and says she feels so deathly;
and her poor heart will pant as if it
won hi leap from side to side. My darling
little Nellie! Oh, Doctor tfrassmere
van know I would give half my fortune
to see her well and about again, light
hearted and canny-smiled as she was six
months ago, before baby came and
died."
Dr. Grassmere was corrugating his
big. bald forehead into a perfect nest of
deep, puzzled wrinkles.
•' Bless her sweet face, I believe I'd
give all of mine if I could get her out
again. Honestly, Harry, my skill is
exhausted. I don't know what else to
do. There's no use pouring any more
medicine down her. I will confess, my
boy, I'm discouraged."
Harry's handsome face blanched.
"Good heavens, doctor ! I* she so
bad as that ? Will she die? She's not
dying, is she?"
He sprang to his feet as he spoke,
agitated and heart-sick.
" Not positively dying, Harry, but I
tell yon she can't live very long in this
passive condition in which she rests,
month in and month out To save my
soul, I couldn't persuade her to be
helped up in the easy chair for a while
this morning—I never was so tempted in
my life as I was to pick her up bodily
and carry her into the next room."
Harry gave a little cry of dismay.
" Oh, doctor, how could you dream of
such a thing ? Why, it would have killed
her—she's so weak she fainted yesterday
when I told her there were a couple of
lady friends in the drawing-room who
wanted to see her."
Dr. Grassmere gave an extra polish
to his speckles* gold-rimtned glasses.
"That's it, precisely ! She won't see
anybodv, and thus get a chance of being
cheered up a little. She's just lyirg
there, lettirg her life ooze away while
her nurse croaks to her and reads pages
on pages of * The Glories of Heavenly
Rest,' and 'Comfort to Dying Souls ' —
two admirable books, I grant, but hardly
the sort of reading suitable to any one
for whose life we are fighting."
Harry's face was grave and thoughtful.
"Do you really think I had better
dismiss Mrs. Carter and get a younger
and more cheerful nurse ?"
"Emphatically. lam prolonjpng my
stay this morning far beyond its pre
scribed limits, just becanse I am con
vinced something decided has to be
done. I want you to spirit those doleful
books away ; I want you to try the ex
periment of reading a little to Nellie
yourself—nothing funny or amusing, for
the change would be too sudden—but
something entertaining. Then—l want
you to get another doctor."
Harry looked at him in blank amaze
ment
" Another doctor ?"
" Just so, my dear ljov. My skill has
been tested to the full. I honestly think
it will be best to treat your wife to a de
cided change. And I want you to send
for a lady,doctor, too—there's a sym
pathy between women that may turn to
advantage in this case."
Harry looked blanker than ever.
" A lady doctor?"
"Yes—one I know, and will strongly
recommend. A sensible, skillful, agree
able woman, to whom your wife will
incline, and whose influence will be
more palpable than mine. Do it, Harry.
Authorize me to Bend Doctor Gertrude
Ashton here this afternoon. I'll see
her, snd give her a history of the case,
and I'll promise to have sn eye after you
all; and, please heaven, we'll make a
desperate effort for Nellie's life."
80 it came to pass that Dr. Grass
mere called at the surgery of Miss
Ashton, and had a long consultation
with her; and at four o'clock of that
afternoon, when Harry was sitting at
FRED. KURTZ, Kdifcor and VroprMor.
VOLUME XL
his wife's bedside, telling her that Mrs.
Carter was oblig,sl to leave her, and that
another nurse was coming, that a
servant anuouucod Uiat Dr. Ashton was
waiting.
Aud a minute after there oaiue into
the room a fair-faced, graceful-formed
girl, of perhajia twenty two or three,
with the sweetest, most thoughtful face
Harry Nugent thought he had over
seen. Evan Nellie, who took so little
notice vif every tluug, was instantly
impressed by the lieauty of the large,
laughing gray eves, overshadowed by
luxurious purple black browa—eyes
that seeuied at constant variance with
the gravity, and diguitv, ami self
posaesaiou expressed by the tlnn, well
sliaped mouth, with its warmly red lij>*.
Mr. Nugent arose and Ixiwed.
'• Is tills Doctor Ashton f lam glad
to sx> you. This is our iuvalid—my
wife, Mrs. Nugeut."
Then came a U>ug list of professional
questions, then several professional
directions, oue or two suggestions, and
then a general conversation ensued, in
which Harry and the pretty doctor had
their fair share.
And tlicu Dr. Ashton said good
moruiug to Nellie, promising to bnug
her a new book of which they had been
talking, aud vrn* escorted down to hej
elegant little phaeton that uwaited her
at the door, with tlie groom iu livery
perched iu his high back scut.
" Before we say gvxxl morning, Mr.
Nugent, there is one word to lie said
regarding your wife. 1 am convinced
there is nothing the matter with her
that might not be removed of her owu
wilL She is prostrated and nervous
because she persists iu keeping her
bed ; she must be made to get out of it.
ludeed, if 1 may sjeak so emphatically,
I may declare "that Mrs. Nugent will
die of pure obstinacy tu refusing to get
well."
Harry sbus! beside the phaeton, his
handsome face wearing a look of gravity
and bewilderment.
" That is what Doctor Grass mere said.
We all admit she ought to get out of her
sick bed, but what good will it do to
give her the shock necessary to rouse
her?"
Miss Ashton looked the very picture
of professional skill as she answered :
"A shock! Certainly not. An alarm
of tire or a rumor of danger would per
haps kill—perhaps cure her, but tlie
riss is not to be taken. It is just
this, Mr. Nugent. Your wife honestly
believes she is too ill ever to recover,
and you know, as well as I, what won
derful effects the mind produces elec
trically on the physical organization.
Now. for the sake of her life, which can
be saved, we must get hex out of bed
let her know for herself she is able to do
it—and to accomplish this Doctor Grass
mere iias asked me to take the case. We
have arranged a plan of action which he
will tell yon ; and I think iu a very
short time you will see Mrs. Nugent on
the road to recovery."
Shortly after the doctor found the
invalid propja-J up among the lace
frilled pillows, looking very pule aud
thin, and gentle and patient as usual.
" Well, Mrs. Nellie, aud how arc y n
coming on nowalays, with your 11 iw
doctor? I declare, you do look lietter.
Feel better, I should say, Glonoua
weather to convalesce in."
He held her little cold hand in his
big one. and caressed it as one might a
baby's fingers.
" I am comfortable, Doctor Grass
mere. and that is all 1 can expect. I
am glad to see you, and so will Harry
be. Isn't it nearly time he was home
to luuohi-on ?"
Dr. Grassmcre held out his watch.
" Nearly—yes, quite tune. Has Doc
tor Ashton called to-day ? I was in
hopes I should see her."
Nellie twisted her ring ou her jioor
thin finger, her one nug, her wwJdiug
ring.
"We like her very much. She is very
beautiful and fascinating, and she and
Harry have such nice times together,
laughing and talking."
A faint little sigh "uded the remark.
"Si you think Uarn admires her—
not any more than he ought to, eh ?"
Nellie looked bewildered at him, and
for the first tune for months, a flush
crept to her pale f.iee.
" M ire than he ought to ' What do
you mean. Do-tor Grassmere?"
Ami there wa* emphasis in the sweet,
surprised voice as Nellie put the ques
tion—a question that Dr. Grassinere
did not answer, because there came a
rap at the door, f illowed by the entrance
of a servant bringing Mrs. Nugent's
lunch—a quail on toast, a cup of choco
late. a s>ft-b tiled egg, arid a saucer of
lnseious peaches aud cream—of all of
which, jierhaps, a half-dozen tastes
would be taken.
And besides, there was a letter lying
on the damask-covered silver t>ay—a
letter whose envelope was jagged, as if
it had been linrriedlv torn open.
"Oh. a letter for von, Mrs. Nugent?"
Dr. Grassmere put on his glasses as
he prepared to cut Nellie's quail to suit,
but was interrupted by a faint exclama
tion from Nellie, who had taken the let
ter and seen, first, the superscription—
"Mr. Harry Nugent," and then—hur
riedly tearing it o|>en, the beginning—
"My darling Harry," and the ending,
" Ever your <>wn true Gertrude."
" Where did yon get it ?" she asked,
almost gasping, of the maid.
"In lade, and it was a-layin' on the
flare of the hall as I cam' along, ma'am,
and I on'y jist minded me to pick it tip,
thinking it was bist to give it to yez,
Indade, and not knowin' the writin' on
it, I t'onglit it "
But Nellie was not listening. Bhe had
pushed away the little table where the
luncheon stood, and in Iter excitement
and horroT had risen from her lied, and
was leaning on her elbow, devouring the
horrible letter that read that her hus
band had become ired of her whining
invalidism, and had concluded to take
French leave for awhile ; and in auawer
to his entreaties that Dr. Asliton would
practically prove the love she had so
often declared, was this letter from her,
consenting to fly with him, and agreeing
to meet him at the Clarendon Hotel that
very day, at noon, to make their final
arrangements.
Then, when she had read it, Nellie
fainted, and while she lay there several
seconds, white and unconscious, Dr.
Grassmere rend the letter, and laughed.
" Pretty good ' First rate ! I declare
I couldn't 'a' done it better myself!
Clarendon, eh, now, I'll bet on Nellie
when she comes to 1"
And almost as soon as ahe opened her
eyes Nellie struggled up in bed, her eyes
more expressive than Dr. Grassinere had
seen them for many a day.
"Go, for a carriage—quick! Send
Pauline to me. I must get up somehow
—anyhow! Oh, Dr. Grassmere, to
think my Harry—"
She swallowed back her tears, and
looked determinedly at him.
" If I find them—if I find her—do be
quick, Dr. Grassmere—do be quick !"
And the moment the door had closed
on him Nellie Nugeut was on her feet
for the first time in mouths—trembling,
weak, it was true, but fired by a vehe
mence that sent her blood pulsing
riotously along along her veins. With
the assistance of Pauline she wafc soon
dressed and wrapped in her shawl, and
then, chuckling to himself, Dr. Grasps
mere eaoorted her down stairs,Jovery
step she took firmer than the /Sttier,
every moment adding brighter iildigna
tion to her eyes, until when I what
seemed a longer drive than nec^eaaary,
THE CENTRE REPORTER
their carriage drove up t the ladiet
eutrauce of the t'larvudou. Mrs. Nug>*
would never have Iwn taken for tie
woman who, two hour* ago, had be
lying white ami helpless among
pillows of the bed she had not left t<r
so long. At the Clarendon, Dr. tlrne
mere escorted her to the ladies' pari.?,
while he went on a tour of mvestigatioi.
In tlve minutes he retnrnod ami t<k
Nellie on hi arm, and together tlry
ascended ly the elevator to altuoat tie
verv door of a private parlor, hehre
which Dr. (Irassuiere paused.
" Now, Nellie, my dear child, are y>u
all ready for a surprise ? Are you aire
you can bear what you will hear u a
moment ?
Ami Nellie, cresting her head a
iwy\>tid tu nghte.ni* indignation, tk*n
lowering it with sudden augniali of
heart, told Dr. lirassiuere she knew ler
heart was broken because Harry was so
cruelly treadier,ms.
Dr. Orassmere aud she followed the
servant in ; then he dismissed tho nan,
and then he called out
" Harry ' Here she is ! We've an
aged to get her out of her owu fre'iU,
and tlie result is—well, hx>k at her ''
And Harry came out from the sasoud
room of the suite, and rushed up t< her
ami caught her iu liis arms.
"Nellie! Mv darling ! Thank liwven
for this!" said Harry.
And Nellie, bewildered, half frighten
ed, looked inquiringly around.
" Hut—where is—where is l>r Ash
ton ?"
Then Dr. Graaamere laughed iv if he
never would stop, and even Mr. iagent
smiled a* he held her in his arns aud
smoothed her check caressingly.
"I confess 1 did not like the naans to
get TOU here, darling, but iX**to - Gross
mere I M no confident —and TOU see he
was not wrong—and as Doctor Aslitou
is liia betrothed wife—why, I contented.
You will forgive ua all the jiuoceut
little trick, Nellie!"
And from that very hoot Nellie
Nugent dated her recovery, ind tiiat
verv night, in her drawing mom, the
three conspirators laughed vtth her
over their very heroic trtwtnenl.
"It bappeued t* save lue," Nellie
says dubiously. " All the same, 1 shai
never recommend gotni-ooking lady
doctors."
Fashion Notei
Gircle cloaks are growing in favor.
Point laee mittens are worn by brides.
Knife-blade plaiting is as popular as
ever.
The dress all in one piece grows iu
popularity.
Bouuet* of every imaginable material
are seen at present.
Bonnets of kid ami of velvet are con
sidered the most stylish.
Uinlresse 1 black Swolish gloves are
very popular f r demi-toilet.
The most fadiiouabl* fur stoles are of
bluak, white, or silver fox furs.
Fur lining* anl fir Iwirdering* art"
having a decided run it present.
Tiie fashionable fur for the neck this
winter is the fur stole bordered with
laee.
EiulH>ss.-.l aud Jaeqtiard woven velvets
are destined to have only a temporary
reign. . .
Many ladies of faitiJioiis tastes reject
the variegated jot trimmings and em
broideries.
The gviisv ring with the jewel orulvd
ded :n gold >a the engagement ring of the
moment.
Outside facing* sppear on many of the
handsomest eloakawhero a quiet effect is
aimed at.
Box-plaited flouaees of medium depth
appear on the front breadths of the latest
Paris dresses.
B>w* of ribbon with the ends finished
with tassels of various kinds,are seen ou
nearly all dressy Meturaes.
Fringes, ginipi. passementeries, aud
other dress trimming* are gorgeous with
variegated jel beads this season.
Deep collars of lace, with broad
cuffs to match, aud intended to be
worn outside of the sleeve, are comiug
in vogue.
Narrow satin ribbon of various colors,
and shaded from dark to |le tint*,
are used at the moment for trimming
lingerie.
Sleeves are no longer trimmed at the
wrist, broad cuffs of laoc or linen, or
embroidered cambric having come into
such general use.
Lace-trimmed lingerie, in the form of
fichus and chemisettes for very young
girls, is a Paris fashion destined to be
come very popular in New York.
The Lamballe redingote, a simple
polonaise with s small double cajie or
Garrick of the material of the garment, is
the popular novelty of the moment.
Large buckles and slides of metal aud
jet appear on fashionable costume* made
of heavy dress fabric*,*uch a* bourette*.
Astrachan, camels' hair, aiM knotted silk
and wool goods.
I'he Light-hearted Japanese I'hlldren.
One of the first lessons presented to a
foreign teaelirr in Japan is the reason of
the great apparent happiness and light
heartedness of Japan children. One
mav walk for hours through the streets
of tokio, and scarcely ever hear a child's
cry of distress. Four principal causes
of this superiority of the children of
Japan over those of other nations have
been suggested by an English lady resi
dent there. They are worthy of the
attention of the teachers at home. The
style of clothing, loose and vet warm, is
far more comfortable than the dress of
our children. Japanese children are
much more out in the open air and sun
shine. The absence of furniture, and
therefore the absence of repeatedly
given instructions " not to touch." The
thick, soft msttiug, forming at once the
carpet and lieds of all Japanese houses,
anil the raised lintel, on to which the
child may clamlier as it grows strong,
constitutes the very bean ideal of au
infant's play-ground. Children are
tuuch potted, without l>cing capriciously
thwarted.
A child in not cuffed one moment and
indulged the next To these four memt
suggestive reason.. the writer would add
a fifth, which is, that Japanese character
is so constituted as to bring their elders
into strong sympathy with the little
ones. It hna been well said that " Japan
is a paradise for babies," for you may
see old aud young playing together at
battle-door and shuttle-cock in the
streets ; while on holidays the national
amusement of men women and children
is flying huge paper kites. Pnppet
shows and masquerades also have their
votaries in thousands, from among both
sexes and all ages.
A Fourth of July Family.
Mr. and Mrs. Barney Ward of
town, Pa., have been man MAMMMP®"
1867. On the 4th ol July, ISTOfUieir
first ohild was lorn. A second was born
on the 4th of Jnly, 1871. The 4th of
July, 1872, added a third child to Mr.
Ward's family, and the ooming of every
succeeding anniversary of American In
lependence IJUB been celebrated by Mrs.
Ward in presenting her husband with a
tine, healthy child. They consequently
have eight children, born in as many
years, aud with a year to a day between
thorn, that day the "ever memorable
i birthday of Freedom,"
CENTRE HALL, CENTRE CO., PA.. THURSDAY, JANUARY R>, 187 H.
HOW JOE WEAKENED
Ills l.asi tilases al iSr Uraei I'rurlc, lbs
lu that great horse-shoe lieud of the
Little Heai I'aw Mountain, which
catches a great thxsl of sunshine ut
noonday, sixtv strong and sturdy men
were digging into the base of the black
topped mountain in search of silver.
We were not 111 luck, and, though each
man was gloomy aud disappointed, there
was no excuse for murder. We had
banded together to share and share alike,
and if fortune smiled ou one, all would
receive lieuefits.
Ouc night, when the day's toil of ttftr
aeven men yielded an estimate of only
gi, the miners cursed ami swore, mid
felt like striking each other. We were
short of provisions, new Pads were need
ed, and tlie men turned in for tlie night
with a determination to strike for some
other locality if the next day's work
should exhibit like barren result*.
At midnight there was a great outcry.
It was not an Indian attack, as each
miner anticipated when he rushed out,
but a horrible murder haul been com
mitted, ami the murderer captured by
one of the sentinels. A miner named
Joseph Hwaiu, but hardly kuown in oanip
by auy other name than " J*\" occupied
a tent iu <vui|>any with a man named
Arnold. The two were on good terms,
but while Arnold had aliottt j£k>o in gold
iwiu, acquired iu other speculations,
Swam hadn't a dollar outside of the com
mon fund. The gold was buried iu the
earth uuder the Isal on which the
two slept, and Swain could not get at it
by uight without arousing his com
panion. Had he secured it during the
day and made off, he would have lieen
11verliaulsI very quickly, and his punish
ment nothing less than hanging. It
could be uo more if he a tided murder to
the robbery, ami that night, when we all
felt so bitter against luck, and when
partners felt so much like striking each
other, J tie Swain murdered the man who
had done the most for huu. He was get
ting away with the gold when halted,
ami though he made a sharp fight for
liberty, he was tied hand and foot withm
five minute* after the first alarm.
Arnold was dead, stabbed in three or
four places, and the gold was found in
Jiie's belt. There was no siiuwr for tlie
murderer. He could not plead impulse
or heat of passion. Indeed, lie was not
the one to seek to avoid consequences.
He made a statement to the effect tliat he
had deliberately murdered and robbed
the good old man, and ad leil :
" No*. IKIVH, there's u<> IIM' in a Rrcut
fu*s over tin® matter. I'ut a guard over
UH'. and th<' t*wt of you go ImcJ. to your
sleep. You'll hang UJ\ of course. and
when morning comes I shall have a
request to make. I shan't tr to get
away, ami I'm not going to play the
behy when the last hour ooine.v "
Joe Swain WAS known among IIM game
mitt. He had fought Mexicans, trailed
Indiana and killed tiir*e or four white
ruffian® who had made themselves a ter
ror to certain localities Armed with hia
bowie-knife, lie would have boon a
match for four of ua, and it i owing
to hi® preaenee more than that of any
oue elae iliat our village wna n >t troubled
witli the rough* and gambler® who at
tiched themselves to the other cwni|w
like leeches.
Murder was a crime that oonld ii"t he
palliated in a mining camp. Had it l**en
uuytliing else, a majority of the men
would have bcim in favor of letting .' e
jump the diggings aud go uupuuished.
But when thev looked in ou the white
faee and blood-stained corjse of thag-sid
old man, who had been like a father to
them, each heart hardened against the
murderer, and each man said to the
other :
"J<>e Swain must hang for this !"
Thsre was no need of a trial. When
he was brought out after breakfast, he
saul :
" Boys, I don't want any fuss over this
thing. I killed the old man, and it 1*
vonr duty to swing me np to a limb. 1
knew wtiat I was up to, and I knew I'd
have to stretch a rope if I couldn't get
away. I don't deaerve a kind wor 1, and
I shan't look for any sympathy. The
request I want to make is that you won't
hang me until suuset. I know it's had
to have oue of these affairs hanging
nronml camp all day, but yet it won't
make no great difference to you as long
as yon ar workiug for almost uothing.
Now, then, all in favor of waiting till
sunset to hang me, say aye !"
" Aye I" ahonted every man around
him.
" Those opposed will say no!"
Not a voice was heard.
" The ayes have it, and I am to he
hang at sundown," continued Joe. " I
want to write half a dozen letters, sleep
for two or three hours, and I hope you
won't crowd in on me. Select your tree,
get your rope ready, and when the time
comes I'll lie on hand."
If Joe had been n captive iu the hands
of the Indians, and was to be burned at
the stake at anndowu, every miner
would have wagered his outfit that
Swain would hare died game. In this
case, where he was to meet a disgraceful
death at the hands of men who had
worked and fonght beside him for
mouths, most of the miners thought he'd
take the noose without the quiver of u
muscle, but there were two or three who
said :
"He is a brave man, but when lie
takes his last look around he will
weaken."
Before the day was four hours old
there was a strange wager lietwcen two
of onr men. It wan rifle against rifle
tliat Joe Bwain would show a woman's
heart before lie swnng off.
The doomed man was left to himsulf
all day long. A strong guard was placed
around his tent, but no one entered it to
interrupt the work of his last hours.
The oorpse of his victim was buried at
the foot of the lone tree on which Joe
was t swing, and as the six men carry
ing the body passed near his tent the
murderer came ont and st<Ksl with un
covered hea 1 to show his respect for the
dead. He wrote five letters, drew up a
brief will, nte a full meal about mid
afternoon, aud half an hour before sun
down he was ready. Before starting for
the tree he said : " After lam gone you
wilt find my will. The letters in there
arc to lie forwarded as soon ns convenient.
This ia a shabby old suit of clothes to
be hqng in, bnt it's all I had. and I
couldn't go round borrowing. Have you
got the rope ami barrel ready ?"
" Yes,everything is all ready," replied
a voice.
"That's right," said Joe. "Now,
then, form in pnKTssion; give mo n
conspicuous place, and wo*ll march
along."
The man wasn't smiling. His faoo was
pale, his eyes had an nniions look, and it
was plain enough that ho realized the
grimoflss of his Inst hour on earth. Tho
procession was formed, and Jos marched
away for the tree as steadily as a soldier
on pamdf. His hands and feet were free ;
bnt as be halted besido tho old barrel,
with the nooee dangling above his head,
be said :
" Roys, tie my arms behind my back,
and after you lift me up. tie my feet
together. If you make a nungleof this,
you'll get a bad name all through the
diggings."
When Joe Hteod on the barrel, the
noose arouud his neck, the men fell back
a little. He looked from man to man
with steady eye, glanced up at the limb,
i and then looked over the heads of the
j men out upon tbe green prairie. The
I sinking son had filled the graaa with
million* of sparkling jewels. A score of
antelope were trotting along a mile
away ; great birds were nailing toward
the Rockies with la*y wiug ; the Rowers
never nreined so thick and Imautiful as
then.
For a minute we all looked southward,
and there was something m the visiou
that softened every heart.
When we looked up at Jiw* again, we
harvlly knew him. All the hard lines
had melted out of his face, his eyes were
full ->f tears, aud there was a sob in his
throat, as lie turned aud whispered
'• Don't blame me, l*iya—it is my last
look on earth ! Now do ywur duty !"
Not a man moved—not a man could
Taking a swift glance over the prairie
and another up the mountain side, Joe
soft 1 v said: "Clod forgive me that 1 was
not a I letter man -!"
He fell forward till tlie barrel his own
exeeutiouer, and no man dared lsik up
until the body hung limp and lifeless.
Joe had weakened, and those who had
bet ou his game " had lost. Yet, when
we talked it over in low voices at the
camp tire, we agreed that brave Joe's
bravest act of a life time was shown
when the tenderness was allowed to
creep into his heart, and his eyes to till
with tours— when he proved to us that
he hud a soul.—DrtroU /Vrr
A Brest Enterprise.
A wonderful Colorado railroad is dea
eribed in au aiticle iu Srribntr'a Maga
zine, by "H. II.," who says: Ever
simws men began to dig for silver and
gold iu Colorado, one of the many hard
things thev have hail to do, has leeu
the jotiruevtng into the rich silver re
gions of tlie Sun Juan country. Ihe
great Sangre ill Cristo range, with its
unoouuted peaks, all from twelve to
fifteen thousand feet high, is a barrier
which onlv seeker* after gold or after
libertv would have courage to crisis.
Cue "of the most picturesque sights
which the traveler in southern Colorado,
during the past two or three years, has
seen has U-en the groups of white-top
ped wagons creeping westward toward
the passes of tins range ; sometimes
thirty or forty together, each wagou
drawn by ten, fifteen or even twenty
mules; the slow-moving processions
look like caravan lines in a desert ; two,
three, four weeks on the rmn), carryiug
iu peupla by households ; earn ing in
food, and bringing out silver by the ton;
back and forth, back and forth, jmtieut
men ami |>atn-nt beast* have leeii toiling
every summer from June to October.
This sort of thing doe* not go on for
mailv years before a railroad <x>mc* to
the rescue. Engineering triumph*
where brute force merely evade*; ihe
steaui engine ha* stronger luug* than
mule* or men ; and the journey which
was counted by weeks 1* made in hours.
S.ieh a feat a* this, the Denver and Kio
Grande Railroad (narrow gnugei is now
|M-rf-irmiug in Colorado. A little more
than a year ago I saw the plowshare cut
the first furrow for it* track through the
euehura* meadow* at the foot of the
Spanish Peaks. One day la*t week 1
looked out from the car window* a* we
whirled past the same sjait ; little
town stood where then was wilderness,
and on either side of our road were acre*
■>f sunt! mors whose brown-centered
• iisks of yellow looked like trembling
faces still astonished at the noise. I'ast
the Spanish Peaks ; past the new town
>i Vela; into the Veto !'**; tip, up.
nine thousand tect up, aer-w* a neck of
the Sangre di Cristo itself; down the
other side, and out among the foot hills
to the vast Han Luis valley, the plucky
little road ha* already pushed. It i* a
notable feat of engineering. As the
road wtuda among the mountains its
curves are *o sharp tliat tlie iliexiwri
etietsl and timid hold their breath. Imm
one track, running along the edge of *
precipice, you look up to another which
yon arc presently to reach ; it lies high
■ii the mountain-side, four hundred feet
above vour head, yet it looks hardly
more than a stone's throw across the
ravine between. Tlie curve by vliich
you are to climb up this hill i* a thirty
degree curie. To tlie non-professions
mind it will perhaps give a clearer idea
of tlie curve to say that it i* ahapod like
a mule shoe—a much narrower shoe than
a horse shtie. The famous In irsc-sboe curve
on the Pennsylvania railroad i broad
and *ov in comparison with this. 'I here
are three of these thirty-degree curves
within a short distance of each other;
the road doubles on itself, like the path
if a ship tacking in ail verse winds. Die
grade is very steep—two hundred and
eleven feet to the mile; the engines
pant and strain, and the wheels make a
strange sound, nt once sibilant and ring
ing on the steel rails. Yon go but six
miles an hour ; it seem* like not more
than four, tlie leisurely pace is an nu
wouted a one for steam engines. \\ itli
each mile of ascent the view backward
and downward lieoumes finer ; the Span
ish Peaks and the plains in the distance,
the dark ravines full of pine-trees in the
foreground, ami Veta mountain on the
left hand—a giant bulwark f trrowed and
bare. There arc ao many seams on the
sides of this mountain that they have
given rise to its nnine, Veta, which in
the Spanish tongue means " vein.
A Checkered Honeymoon
A young, enterprising shipmaster,
Captain John Carter, Jr., of Mauches
ter-by-the-sca, Mass., arrived home a
few week* ago from a voyage to Last
India. While hi* ship was being re
loaded at New York he went to Man
chester to make a flying visit to his
friends, and to secure a shipmate of a
different sex and of a higher order.
The nuptial honr was appointed when
the voting and amiable Miss Haskell
was to unite her heart and fortune* with
the captain, but they were reminded of
the old adage, " There's many a slip,"
etc., by a telegram from New York stat
ing that his ship was seized by a broach
committed against one of the inter
national laws. Without a moment s
delay the captain proceeded to New
York, gave a satisfactory explanation,
then returned to Manchester, to remain
only long enough to secure his bride.
He hastily applied at the office of the
town clerk to procure tlie ncH-easary
"certificate." when he was informed
that the clerk was performing jury duty
in h difttant town. Tha iintliHroaviHl
captain was determined not to lose his
bude or to delay his ship, but to prove
to the world that " where there is a will
there is away," so hud a meeting called
for the election of a town clerk pro
1' tnpore, procured his certificate, and so
"nrmed and equipped, as the law
directs," secured the prize and took the
first train for New York. The twain
were soon confided to the tender mereio*
of the briny deep. Nothing more was
heard from them until tho arrival of a
telegram from England this week, saying
that the ffattie Qwfiall waa found dia
raastod and abandoned. The fearful
anxiety of the parent* ind friend* of tlie
bride and groom can be imagined
than described. Telegromiteero flashed
here and there without bringing one
word concerning tho fate of either
officers or crew, but in WednemJgf's
Journal the following welcome new*
from London was read: "The crew of
the Hattie CI. Hall, from New York for
Queenstewn, before reported abandoned,
arrived at Falmouth."— Potion Journal.
Forty-five millions is the estimate of
the St.* Louis Republican for the pepu
[ lation of the United State* in IMO.
NEW YORK t'LAIKVOY ANTS
Thr Cl.lrt.rUla.f UMk.M an* lite Peale
Uk. I Tkr lla.lnr.. .Mr* an*
iwlrli Hiart I inert Irwin* Ifcr Cat** •
•• Rapulau " wrilwi from New York to
the Olevelaud IHaindeater, a* follow*:
The whole LUOlber of prufesaiotial clair
voyant* iu New York ia probably about
forty. Some of theui keep atauding ad
vertisement* lef<ire the public, but the
majority do not need to solicit custom
in thin way, their buaitieaa Iwing alumat
an well estaldialied an that of a first elaaa
physician. Mcu and women who desire
to consult them know just w here to find
them, so the coat of advertising i* saved,
and this, at forty cents a line in the
Herald is no small item. Two-thirds
or more of the clairvoyants are women,
and moat of their patrons are also wouu-u.
Among these are many members of the
upjier social circles, but the majority are
from the poorer claaaea. It la aat audi tig
rule witii hundreds of the illiterate
women of New York U consult a elair
voyant about the moat trilling affairs.
If' a child liaa whooping cough or
measles the wise woman must lie asked
whether it will recover or not If a
husband docs not come home quite
regulsriy every evening, tlie name woman
is taiuatilted iia to where and how he
spends hia time. If there has leeu a
peculiar dream, her |>alm is crossed with
fifty cents to interpret it. Sometimes
the woman is employed in cases of sick
ness, instead of a physician and m such
CIUM* she is at least wise enough to avoid
doing the patient any liarm, even if she
cannot do any good. The doctor* would
lie down on lier very quickly if she gave
them a chance to invoke tlie law against
nial prat ice, so she is particularly careful
on that point. All her medicines are
harmless hrrla, nud I'fleii she doe* not
presenile even tliese, but contents her
self with prognosis and ad vice.. The
fee, however, is never overlooked, and
as the clairvoyant's financial formula is
cash in aivance, she has a marked ad
vantage over the regular practionerw.
Some of tlie New York clairvoyants
arc so overrun with business that visit
ors frequently have to wait hours for au
audience. They are uttal!y ushered
into a dingy parlor and required to sit
there, with jM*rhn| a doaett others, till
their turn oomos, as men have to do in
a Imrlier shop. Now and then, as in
the case of some well known patron, an
exception is made to this rule; but or
diuarily the clairvoyant is stnet as a
martinet in carrying out this system. It
is a part of her policy to impress visitors
! with the sense of lier importance and
even inspire them with awe, if site ran,
and the rule requiring all to consult her
pleasure rather than tlieir own is a val
uable aid to this end. When a stranger
enters the consultation room for au au
dience, he ..r she is cloacly scrutiuir.ed
for indications of cliaracter, and if auy
iutenUon to triile with the mystefteo of
the awdul art is sinqtectod, a frigidity of
manner is assumed that would convert
new milk into ice ercani in about five
minutes. The most profitable patrons
of tlie clairvoyants are the wives and
daughters of rich men, who always have
plenty at ixickct money and very little
to do. There are many fashionable
matrons and lielle* who visit theui al
mist as often as they give orders to their
dressmakers. It may seem strange, but
it is a 'recognised truth, that scores of
. educated, intelligent, wide-awake ladies
rhave as firm a faith in the reality of
clairvoyance as they have in their re
ligion. There are some on Fifth avenue
• who would not do any imporUut act
without first ascertaining from some
churvovant or fortune-telling aouree ita
s probable results. It is nor uncommon
for audi persons to dugniae themselves
as servants or working women, and thus
I visit the purveyor of mystic knowledge,
to have solved some matter that, may
hap, ha* worries! them dav and night.
The clairvoyant* patronised byjthi* risen
are the elite of the profewiou, so to
spMik, They have a private ami aelert
line of business, occupy handsomely
furnished apartment*, generally in
French fiats, and require a reference or
an introduction from all persons aolicit
< ing their service. They makes good
dtwl of money and can afford to live
very comfortably, a*} tliey usually do.
; One woman, whose mmltnw i* not
far from tlie Stewart mansion on Fifth
avenue, charges five dollars for every
consultation, and litis as much busiuews,
it is said, as she cau attend to. A few
others, also, live in that neighborhood
andenjov a liberal patronage from the
f&shiouahlo world, but this particular
| one line the cream of the trade.
The business men of New York are
' noted for shrewdness and hard sense,
and would lie the last persons to stis-
I pact of superstitious weakness, yet tin
-1 li*s* tliey nre wrongly accused many of
them consult the fortune-tellers and
clairvoyants qnite regularly. If such a
i man as'Oommodore Vauderhilt had even
i the smallest particle of faith in the fe
male seer, there ueod lie but little diffi
culty in accepting tlie talk that puis
I many lean noted men in the same cate
gory. At all event*, it i frequently
sai.i of this man or that one tliat he
1 habitually calls upon one or another of
our modern weird sisters for informs
: tion and advice about his business. Also
| that there A re tradesmen and others of
' that class among u* who never begin an
enterprise till it has been approved by
some one who pretends that he or she
I can rem! the future.
Learning the Shy.
It is a strange thiug how little iu gen
eral people know about the aky. It is
the part of creation in which nature has
done more for the sake of pleasing man,
more for the sole and evident purpose
of talking to him and teaching him. than
in any other of her works, am' it is just
the part in which we least attend to her.
There are not many of her other works
in which some more material or essential
purpose than the mere pleasing of man
is not answered in every part of their
organization ; but every essential pnr
poee of the sky might, as far as we
know, he answered, if once in three days
or thereabouts, a great, black, ugly rain
clond was broken up over the blue, and
everything else well watered, and so left
blue again until the next time, with
perhaps a film of morning and evening
mist for dew. But instead of this, there
is not a moment of produce scene after
scene, pictnre after picture, glory after
glory, working still upon such exquisite
and constant principles of the most per
fect beauty ; that it is qnite certain it is
all done for ns. intended for one per
petnal pleasure by the (Ireat Being who
made ail, all worlds.
Soldiers Practicing Lynch Law.
At Silver Springs, twenty-flvs miles
south of Hat Creek, Wyoming Territory,
a member of Company A, Third Cavalry,
.lamed K'-nnedy, recently threatened
the life of Sergeant Schaffer. In the
evening Kennedy procured a carbine,
went to a tent where he supposed Schaf
fer would be found, and opening the.
flap, fired at the first man he saw. kill
ing him iustantly, but instead of Schaf
fer, it proved to be John Van Mott, first
tK'rgjoiit ofethe company. Kennedy was
pnt trader guard. Ureat excitement
prevailed among the men of the com
pany, and during the night the guard
was overpowered, a blanket thrown over
Kennedy's head, and at daylight the
next morning his body was found sus
pended to the riilgc pels of the guard
tent.
TERMS: #2.00 a Year, in Advance.
Life en Hruadway.
Life on Broadway is pretty nearly
every thing. It is the broadest fame,
the heaviest tragedy, aud the moat deh
oate comedy ; it i* tender, severe, sad,
uiid joyous—an available tod for the
satirist, the moralist, the humorist. Use
preacher, and the man of the world.
No ambition, paasipu, or creed may not
be studied in its magnificent parade,
which puts togetlier things that by
nature are widely apart, aud effects a
grnud eiiar inbim of vividly dramatic oou-_
trust*.
Topographically, aa well aa by tlie
selection of traffic, the street is the mam
artery of the oily. The beat way of
finding out the inside of an orange is bv
rutting it through the middle; and if,
in a sort of geographical vivisection, a
scalpel should lie drawn down the
middle of New York, it would fall into the
channel formed by Broadway. The
effiuenoe is at tlie southern extremity of
the city, and the affluence la on the
borders of Central I'ark, the street
coursing almost dne north aud south for
u little less than four miles.
On account of its neutrality aud di
rectum*, it is t inched by nearly every
moving inhabitant of the city in his
daily walks ; if he is going from north to
south, he prefers it to tlie other avenues,
I localise it is straight aud its pavement is
god; and if lie is going from any
quarter east to any quarter west, he
must intersect it ut some point in gain
ing his destination. Tlie country viat
tor coining from tlie Jancy and L -ng
Island Terries feels secure when he
reaches Broadway, and while he keeps
to it he cannot go very far astray, no
matt.-r what his destination is. it is
not onlv s channel of commercial traffic,
but a favorite promenade of the idler
and pleasnre-seekcr, and though the ac
quaintances of a man may lie few, a
Walk up or down Broadway is sure ta
confront him with somebody that he
knows.
The crowd is not distinctively fashion
able, though well-dressed lieople pre
|K>udrate; workmen in fustian and
|Kiverty-stricken work-girls apjiesr in
the stream, lieside* threadbare a<ivent
urers and the abject devotees of the
gutter. It is a crowd greater iu num
liers and steadier in its flow than any
thing London cau show in Fleet street
or the Strand, and it mixe* up the most
dissimilar elemeut* of nationality anil
condition. The night is never ao dark
or ao st-irtnv, that the footfall of pedes
trian* and tli rumbling of vehicles are
altogether hushed. The occu|ants of
the front-rooms of the bote's, waking at
unv hour, e*n *'iU lieur the reverliera
lions of the traffic, which swell toward
morning iuto a ileafening roar, and
continue without lull throughout the
day. The procession is eudlewa. When
all the rest of the city i* asleep, Hmad
way is awake, and looking through its
vista lwtwcen the two bead-like strings
>f lamps, we still *<-e s. .me pedeatrians
plodding along on various missions *of
crime, industry, pleasure, or charity.—
William 11. HUltiny, in Harjter't
Magaznu.
Russian Wedding Customs.
When oouple* are engaged a bet
trotlial feast i* held and the bride else
haa a l<ick of her hair cut off in the
presence of witueaaea and giveu to the
bridegroom, who in return preseuts a
Kilrer ring set with a turquoise, an al
mond cake and a gift of bread and salt.
From this moment the two are plighted;
nor can the relative* break the match
except with the o intent of the parties
themaelvea. which 1* signifiM by a re
turn of the ring and lock of hair. So
much importance i* attached to the
ring, at least in the north of Russia,
that among poor )>cople who cannot af
ford *ilver and a turquoise, tin and a bit
of blue atone are substituted. THe be
trothal ring* are kept a* beirlooma, but
mnat not lie made to serve twice—a son
cannot give hi* bride tlie ring which hi*
mother received, for instance : though
why this should be so 1* a mystery
which the clergy, who sell the rings,
could best explain. On the wedding day
the bride come* to church drone.-,! in
white ; but it is ouly among tlie highest
classes, who copy western fashion*,
that the bridal costume is entirely white,
and that a wreath of orange blossoms is
used. Among Kassiau* pure light blue
is the nuptial color, and a coronet of
silver ribbon stands in place of the
wreath. The wedding ring for the
bride is of gold or some yellow metal,
but not a plain hoop ; it is generally a
double ring with enchased stars. The
bridegroom has a ring, too, which the
bride puts on bis finger at the altar after
ahe has received his, anil this is mostly a
plain one. Tlie clergy make much ado
n I tout the rings Iteing of pure metal, and
thereby keep tlie aale of them in their
hands," though it would not always be
safe to test the purity of the ecclesiastical
gold with a toucli-stone. After tlie
wedding service, which comprises in
some of the less civilised district* the
bnnking of an earthernware vessel in
token tliat the bride renounces her own
(siasession (or is ready to Rtnaah all her
father's crockery for ber husband's sake
—explanations differ)--after this there is
n adjournment to a banquet, in which
mulled kvm (small leer) and almond
cakes play a great part. Wedding* need
not IH> celebrated lefore midday, nor
must they take place in a church. In
fashionable circle* it i the custom to
solemnise them in a drawing room and
by candle light. There 1* no departure
on a honeymoon tour. The banquet ia
followed by a ball, 1 lieu by a supper,
aud at this last rej .ist, when held in
houses where old customs are otewrvol,
a new satin slipper, supposed to be tlie
hride's is produced, and need as a drink
ing Teasel by tlie bridegroom's friends,
who pass it round aud drink tlie bride's
health in it till it is soaked through and
will hold liquor no longer. In house*
where speeches sre made it ia not the
bridegroom, but the bride's father, who
returns thanks when her health is drunk
—this usage beiug owing to the fact
that a father still retains authority over
his child after she is married. He may
summon her from her home to tend him
when he is siok. If he loses his wife he
may claim hia married daughter's ser
vices as a hoH*ekee|icr during the first
three months of his widowhood; and he
very often does so. If the daughter's
husband die her father may order her to
return to his roof, and he becomes
cir jure the guardian of her children.
None of these privileges is retained by a
married woman's mother.— Pall Mall
Gazette. ___________
What Choked an Australian Fish.
Au Australian paper has this : A large
fish, of the Kathetostoma or stone-lifter
species, was found the other day on tlie
western beach, between the liaths and
the railway pier. It is twenty-two inchee
in length, or four inches longer thau any
yet rejiorted to have been found in Vic
torien waters. The fish was obtained by
Mr. H. A. Smith, of Bathesford, who
takes some interest in the collection of
curiosities, and by him it has l>een pre-
J served. When the fish was opened for
the purpose of cleaning it, a piece of
newspaper containing Mr. John Noble's
name and an account of the fabulous
wealth of Mr. Maekey, n shareholder in
the Bonanza gold mines, in California,
was found in its stomach. Borne of the
jocular spirits at Bathesford state that
although the fish succeeded in swallow
ing the advertisement, the statement
with regard to Mr. Maokey's wealth was
too muon for it, benso ite death on the
•horn of Coroa Bay.
NUMBER 2.
I.ovr, Hatred and Uevotleto
A newspaper correspondent tails the
following rotuantic atory: Twenty year*
ago, near on the Mediterranean
ooaat, them lived an Italian family, not
very wealthy, but in comfortable cir
eumataucea. Tlie familv waa composed
of a gentleman and lady aud their
(laughter. The latter, when ahe bad
reached her sixteenth year (twenty years
ago), fell deeply and paaaiofiatoly in love
with a young uffiaur, who requited her
love. Hut the parents of the damsel
disapproved of the match, and, alarmed
at the pragma of tlua attachment, they
uaed their influence to the utmost and
contrived to marry their daughter to a
count, a wealthy man, clever, welleu
formol and very anxious for the match,
though many yeara older than the young
girl. The marriage took place, though
the count was fullv aware of a previous
attachment. Proliably he thought it
merely a young girl's fancy, and the
parent* did their beat to make him be
lieve it was so. Unfortunately the
result proved their mistake. The young
girl droojaal aud pined—never smiled
iuid could not be persuaded to forget the
jiMt. Her husband fell into the mistake
of taking her to his house, near her
home, near all the eaaoriatioos which h*
should have dreaded and avoided. He
became more and more devoted to her—
ahe turned from him with ever-increasing
dislike. At length her state of health
alarmed the physician, who ordered aa
immediate change of scene. Hut the
mischief was done already. From morn
ing till night the unhappy yonng crea
ture would aob and moan and u< 'thing
could comfort bar. They traveled over
France, Germany and B)>ain, but the
only effect at change waa to Itflllg on
extreme indifference and lutleaaneaa,
which increased till, when they cams
home, the count found that he had dons
no good and his wife had become a
harmless lunatic. Even then, perhaps,
something might have been tried aa a
means of recovery, some return to hap
pier times, but the count waa wild with
remorse and reallv deep affectum, ao that
lie gave up his life in trying to gratify
her various fancier and frequent captions,
For twenty yeara this has gone on.
Tliev live on na ideal villa on a lull over
looking the Gull of Bpetzia, with hand
some, lofty rooms, and .rntaide you
could want*nothing more lovely than the
groves of olive ami the vineyards, The
count spares no money to please the
poor woman in his charge, but his care
is poorly requited, for her madness has
taken Ute form of loathing hia very
presence and no reason can now diaaimi
late feeling which has made her a wreck.
He takes refuge in his books, live* like
a hermit, sjxmta L'.tiu and Greek poetry
in hie solitude, is devoted to astronomy
and has an excellent telsacope. But
his life scarcely deserves the name.
The Coming Pari* EipeaUioa.
The l*ari correspondent of the Boston
Journal say* : The French have decided
not to adopt any of the plana of their
own or foreign exhibition* with regard
to eutrace fees. The tourniquet did not
please them, and a member of the oom
minsioa naively obaervea in hia circular
Uiat as this is a Bute enterprise, a
much stricter accountability than that of
1867 inuat be expected. The visitor to
the exhibition of 187H must therefore
expect to buy a ticket every time he goes,
and thi he can do very rapidly, aa they
will be for sale in packages, just as
borae-ear tickets are in America. They
n be had at ratiwny stations, in omrn
btiKses aiid home-cars, in tobacco ahope,
cafes, hotels, theater*, at the kiowium,
in all kind of eliope, and at the exhibi
tion itself. In order that forgeiy may
nut be poaaible, the Bank of France baa
agreed to manufacture the tickets, and
to provide them with * peculiar mark,
which, will render any falsification im
possible. The exhibition people are, I
bear, counting on something like 10,-
000,000 visitor*, and are making moat
cxtraordiuarv preparations for their
comfort. I am glad to learn that the
architectural feature* of the exhibition
of 1867 are to be revived cm a much en
larged scale. The different countries
are expected to contribute something
original and peculiar in the way of a
building. It i* a pity tbat some of our
great in-urauoe companies cannot aend
over models of tneir beautiful bnildinga.
There is to be one immense avenue
piercing the exhibition buildings, and
devoted to the display of architecture.
I have omitted to sta'e that the season
subscriptions to the great fair will coat
100 francs, and that on no occasion will
the singla admission fee amount to more
than one franc, or twenty cents. There
are a good msnr interests here managed
or controlled bv Americana, wliich will
lie represented. The Hotehkms manu
factorv of cannon, the drilling machine
of McKean A Co., and other mechanical
specialties will doubtless be fully shown.
But tliest* alone will not suffice to
illustrate the growth and progress of the
United States. 1 hope the Terntones
will finite tod make a txillcctiv# exhibit
at Paris next year. It would be infinito
lv to their "advantage. Tbev might
model their exhibit upon that of Holland
at Philadelphia, which **a admirable.
The exhibit of newspaper* would l>e
desirable also. The director of the
7Vm;>, the beet evening paper m Plana,
was aske.l, a mouth or two since, if he
would join in a display of French jour
nals for 1878, and lie answered, "It
would te uaelrws; the Americans would
be certain to carry off the prize."
Which is comforting to our national
pride.
Mexican* Burned at the Stake.
A Mexican correspondent dedans
that a horrible scene wan recently en
acted in the village of St. James, in the
district of Ooncortleo. For six months
a man named Silvester Zwliarias had
l>cen bewitched, and having drank
three glasses of water "to drive ont the
demon," lie denounced Joseph Bonilia
and Diega Lugo as having bewitched
him. These two persons were de
uonnccd to tlie prefect, anil, having been
arrested, Judge Murino, a member of
the supreme court of justice, ordered
them to be burned alive. At seven
o'clock in the morning the witch and
the wiuu-d were bound to the stake,
which stood in the center of a hillock of
faggots, about aixty persons, armed with
long Mexican knives, surrounding the
criminals. "As soon as the tire reached
the witches," says the official report
sent to the prefect of Oonoordeo, " they
crieti out for their gods to be sent to
them" (probably their soothsaying or
conjuring paraphernalia). The lire was
extinguished, end these "gods"
brought. As soon as they had them in
their hands they denounced three other
persons as accomplices, and these
having been compelled to mount the
pile, all five were then burned to death.
Dispersing Crowds at Fires.
An ingenious but simple mechanical
expedient has been adopted in Glasgow
for scattering the crowd that usually
assembles at a fire. Attached to the
engino is a small hose, which ie under
charge of one of the firemen. He be
gins operations as if he were trying to
water a small space around the engine,
but he gradually enlarges the circle
until the retreating crowd gives ample
rtom. This space is kept open
till the police arrive and form a cordon.
Meanwhile the other operations of the
firemen are not impeded, as they had
been formerly, during the precious
moments st the beginning of a firs.
ItNM ef Iwwt.
The pension bureau baa 90,000 daima
mtjwiottMi.
A man in Lonbrtan* married five timet
is eleven mootbl.
The lateet senaation in Dalton, Ga.,
is a female blacksmith.
They have dime saving* bank* in Obi
rugv- "hanka that aave ft* deponitor* a
dim* out of ovary dollar.
Whan a girl bagioa to tab# an mtereat
in a young man * cravat, it ia a aign aba
does not love him aa a staler.
Ex- Fodaral aoldora and life-long Union
men am contributing ®ry freely to
repair (b* damage none by snkocan
pemma to the (Wfedcrate monument
at Chattanooga.
A brother and airier, each of whom
anppoaad the other dead, met by aooi
dent in Charlotte, N. 0., a few day* ago,
after a nepemtion t# thirty-seven veers,
only to find they had baeo living in the
•ame neighborhood all the time.
" I'apa," aaked a little wi-vear-old
daughter at an np*town physician
- waaa't Job a doctor t" 44 I never beard
that he waa. Why t" " Beoaaee mamma
■aid the other day ahe didn't think you
had any of the patienta of Job ?"
In the cathedral at Brugawiek, Ger
many, it waa recently determined to
iewr the walls and pillar*. Aa the
dirt of egea came off, the vindicator* of
cleanluwwe were rewarded by the uncov
ering of old paiutinga of great merit that
bad oeeu entirely forgotten. Hketehea
are to be made of them first, and they
are then to be restored.
A precocious boy. hearing a news
paper reporter complain of a want of
space, wrote the following epitaph and
laid it on hia table:
Het* lias poor Vat.
Who ia kf • rasa.
Swore be bad set
fMktsst apace.
Heron* tba tomb.
Ha uiMtarataod*.
Ha il have mora coom
If heat aipaeda.
"There ia not," wrote the editor of
the Head wood Iniiy Champion, "a
quieter, more peaceful, well regulate.!
and orderly community in the western
country." And then, aa the office boy
entered to say that somebody wanted hi
ace him, he took hia bowie knife between
his teeth, put a Golfs new pattern seven
shooter on the desk in front of him, and
then said : " Jua, gut out another coffin
, * plain one 'f** tune—end let tb<*
critter come in."
Last W*r*i f tkf
Gesthe. —*' More tight. "
flfOOU*.— ■" Be MTKHUt."
Chtfio L—" Remember.
Washington— '* ll>a wsil."
Byron.—"l mailt sleep now."
John Knmt —" Sow it Ucome."
Napoleon.—" Head of the army. "
Dr. Donna.—"Thy will be done."
Char lee Matthew*.—" I am ready."
Taaao.—" hand*, O Lord.
Job neon. " God bleaa yon, my dear."
IsiWwaice.—"Doat give np the ahip."
Haller.—"The artery ceases to beat"
Mahomet.—"Gh. Allah I be Jt Cfeu
an."
Hu Walter Boott.-"Uod bleaa yon
aIL"
Chesterfield. " Give Dayrollee a
chair."
John Q. Adam*.—"lt is the iaat of
earth."
Harden. "God preserve the em
peror."
Charles ll.— "Don't let poor Nally
starve."
Nelson.—"l thank God I have done
mr dnty."
Talma.—"The want of all is that I
aannut see."
Franklin. —" A dying man can do
nothing well."
Alfleri. " Claap my hand, daar
friend, I dies."
Edward Irving. —"I die onto the
Lord. Amen."
Cardinal Beaufort "l* there no
bribing death
Thar low—" I'm abot if 1 don't be
lieve I'm dving."
Queen Elisabeth.—"Ail my peaaaa
MOUI fur a moment of tune."
A tfueer Pre-wrlptiaa.
On one occasion, when 1 was ill, the
general called in Dr. Hunt, his family
physician. The doctor was a tall, lank,
j ugly man—" aa good as gold,"* but with
none of the graces that are supposed to
win vowug ladies ; yet he was marnwl
to one of the loveliest young crsstures I
ever knew. General Jackson accompa
nied him to my room, and after my
pnlse had been duly felt and my tongue
duly inspected, they drew their chair*
to the fire and began to talk. " Hunt,
suddenly exclaimed the Prwident,
"how came von to get such a young
and prettv wife?" " Well, ITI tell you,
repbed the doctor. " I was called to
sttend a young lady at the convent in
Georgetown. Her ere# were bad ; she
had to keep them bandaged. I cured
her without her ever having a distinct
view of me. She left the institution,
and a year afterward she appeared here
in society, a belle and a beauty. 1 in
troduced mywelf. without the slightest
ulterior design, aa the physician who
bad restored her sight, although I cup
■ posed she had never really seen me.
She instantly expressed the most heart
felt gratitude. It seemed so deep and
guanine that I was touched. That very
evening *be informed me she had a
severe cold, and that I must again pre
scribe for her. Well! it don't look
reasonable, but 1 did it. I wrote my
name on a bit of paper, folded it ami
handed it to her. telling her she must
take that prescription. Hhe read it and
laughed. • It'a a bitter ptll,' she said.
|' and must lie well gilded if erer I take
it.' But whether it araa bitter or wheth
er it was gilded, we were nuurried."—
Lipptnroff * Mrtf/azine.
A Fatal Flat-Bee*.
.loh ii B. Painter, of Pittsburg, P* .
with a partv of ooloniaars, thirty souls
in *ll, left ilt*l city recently in *flat
hoet. intending to travel by river to
Arkansas. They launched their boat
about two o'clock, and had only floated
a abort diatance, when one of the steer
ing oars broke, and the boat began to
drift with the current. Jnat ae they
entered the Ohio river the flat-boat
struck a fleet of coal bargee, and the
flat-boat parted in three piece® and broke
np, tliroaing the immigrant* into the
water. Some of them climbed out on
the ooal barge*, and others were rescued
by skiffs. A Swiss family named liifc,
consisting of father, mother and two
children, and a man from Philadelphia,
name unknown, perished. All the rest
were saved, although with the greateet
difficulty. One woman, with an infant,
floated several hundred yards before she
was picked np.
The Nnisance aft eavicts in Siberia.
The Siberian newspapers complain of
the large number of convicts seut to
their country. The chief population of
the towns belong to that objectionable
class. Political convicts, however, are
said to lie a valuable acquisition. On
the low lauds, on the othar hand, there
an many villages in which the number
of convicts distributed over the settle
ment does not exceed one per cent oj
the whole population. Still the villagers
are much afflicted with the vagabond
element of thieves who have run away
from their stations. It is dangerous to
approach them, srooe some of the peas
ants in the villages are in close connec
tion with them ami harbor them, or, if
vhat is not possible, pas* them on to an
other village.
The Guileless Gypsy.
A Granby colored man, by industry
and economy, managed to save op quite
a sum of money by hauling water, with
which he purchased a fine farm. A few
days ago a number of wandering gypsies
visited his farm for tbepurpoeeof telling
fortunes. They told the colored man
and his wife that they were destined to
liecome the king and queen of all their
race in America," and all that was neces
sary to bring this abont was to deposit
their valuables in the hands of an aged
gypsy woman for safe keeping. This
the people finally did, and the result is
thai they are abont 1600 oat, and no
nearer royalty than whan hunishins.
thirst* Gr*ibyite# wfiffe water.—t/opfte
(J*.) Jft**