The Centre reporter. (Centre Hall, Pa.) 1871-1940, December 19, 1878, Image 1
Smiles. Too who Jodgs by what TWO M. Often faff to )o<br* aright, Wars are shining aotamnly In the day aa in the night. All the day they lie oonoeaied By the glqry of the sun, Bnt at eve they shine revealed In the aaure one by one. Ha the daylight of a smile May bnt vail the ham an face. Hiding, tor a little while, Every carp and sorrow's trace. Look beneath the onlward show > Through the sunshine to the uight, And. from what yoa sanely know, learn to see and judge aright! lCWinm lllstr. Horrrobeola Gha. A strangoppreaohed laet Siuxtsy. And crowds of people came To hear a two h,mi> semicu With a barbarous avnndlng uauie Twas all about soaie heathen Tbcusande of miles tfsr, Who U\ed ui a Uud of darkness. Called Borrroboola vlhs. So well Uio'r wants he pictured That when the plate was pssad Kach Ustorie: ft It his pocket. And goOilly stuns were cast. For aP must lend a 1 colder To push the rolling car That carried light and comfort To Borrrolvxvla tihs. That night their want# and sorrows Lay heavy cu my soul. And in deep moduat ion I took my morning stroll. Till eonit-ltuog caught my mantle With eager grasp and wild. And looking dew n with w cuder I saw a little child. A pale and pnnv or*star* In dirt and rags forlorn What ccmld she want, I quoeUooei). lmpstient to be gone. With trembling <n she answered, " We live Jnst down the street. And Buinu sht '* a-dyin . And we've notb. ~ft to eat IViwn in a wreioLid lascmoni, With mold upon the walls. Through whose half-tuned windows Chxl a tuimEine never falls; Where odd. and want, snd hunger Crouched near her as she lay, 1 fotitid t fallow-creature Gasping hor life sway. A chair, a broken tab'v. A bed of dirty straw, A hearth all dark and tireless— But these I scarcely saw. For the mournful sight before me, The sad and sickening show Oh, never had I pictured A scene so full of woe— The famished snd the naked. The bsbes that pine for bread. The squalid group that huddled Around the dying bed; All this distress aud sorr. Should be in lands afar. Waa I suddetuy transplsc'cd , To Borrroboola Gha ? Ah, no 1 the poor aud wretched Were close beside my door. And I bad passed them heedless A thousand times before. Alas for the cold aud hungry That met me every day. Whho ail my tears were given To the suffering far array. There's work enough for Christians In distant lands, we know; Our Lord commands his servants Through all the world to go. Not only to the heathen. This was his charge to them— " Go preach the word, beginning First at Jerusalem.'" Oh. Christian. God has promised Whoe'er to thee has given A cup of pure ooki water Shall And reward in heaven. Would you secure the blessing. Ton need not seek it far. Go, find in yonder hovel A Borrroboola Gha. RrUyicu* Hera i THE TWO ROBERTS. Singing softly to himself, Robert EJ bury rode " over dale and over down " in the sweet stillness of tbe July night. Hardly a breath of air was stirring in the branches of the trees. Now and then an invisible night bird piped a solitary note to keep him company, and soft waves of light streamed over the hills as the queenly moon, well attended by her guards, rode indolently down the broad highway of heaven. The bine dome, looking soft as velvet, was, like the fabled path of love, strewn thickly with the golden kisses of the stars. As he gained the last hill, whose summit gazed on the little watering place which was for a few weeks to be his destination, he iuvoluntanlv drew rein and sat sliest a moment, enjoying the moonlight =cene. On his left an old-fashioned brick house reared its twisted chimneys aloft. So close w he to it that its sharp gables seemed to cut the air over his head, and only a strip of green lawn, bordered by horse chestnnt trees, separated him from the windows, gleaming in the moonlight, " Ka-pter and crown I'd fling them down, If I might"— Robert Edbury hushed his song when he perceived, for the first time, his very close proximity to the honse and the windows. "The substantial IK • me of some sub stantial fanner," be said to himself. " I had better move on, or his daughters may think I am serenading them." Too late 1 Just then a window was opened softly overhead, and a lady'a face appeared at it. In the rush of bright moonlight Robert caught Bight of the long ripple of gold-gleaming hair, and was sure that the face was lovely. At any rate, the voice was. " Robert, dear, is it yon ?" For half a minute Robert Edbury was mute with surprise, and mode no answer. "It is yon, Robert. Why don't you speak ?" He spoke, then, low, and with hesita tion. " How do you know it was I ?" "Of course I knew it was yon." There was a flash of petulance in the sweet voioe DOW. " Who else but you oonld be riding and singing in that ab surd way at this hour of the night, and halting before the house ? Have yon a cold, Robert ? Yonr voice sounds dif ferent from what it usually does." " Perhaps it is the night air," answer ed Robert, wickedly, and getting his wits partially together. "Or I may have cracked it with singing." Bnt still he spoke in the most subdned of tones. "I did not expect the pleasure of speak ig v*h y° u -" "The very idea of your coming np on horseback at this night hour! You know yon ought not to be out. Why did you do it i Where are yan going ? Into Spifleld ?" •• To be sure." " But what for?" "To see a friend." "Who i it?" came the quick re sponse. " Not—not Nelly Cameron?" —with a shade of jeolonsy in the tone now. "Are the Comerons receiving this evening ?" " Not that I know of, returned Rob ert E Ibury, promptly. " I swear to von I was not going to see Nelly Cam eron I have not spoken with a single voung ladv to-day, except yourself." " Poor Robert I" and a little langh rippled lightly on the air " But do go. Yon know what yonr health is, and that you have no business to be ridiug at this time of night. You ought to take better care of yourself. You will be laid up to-morrow ; your voioe already sounds strange and altered. Good night." * " One moment," cried Robert Edbury, earnestly, as he leaped from his horse, fastened the bridle to the gate, and stepped inside beneath the window, where gleamed that mysterious, encbant mg face. " Won't yon give me a flow er—you can easily reach that clustering FRED. KURTZ, Editor and Proprietor. VOLUME XL vine by your curiurat Perhaps—per haps 1 shall wish to ask you some tune to forgive me some gn at offeuse. Won't you give sue a flower tor a token ?" " How strangely you talk. Of course I would give you a Bower ; but these are ouly honeysuckles, and you kuow wo promised to give each other nothingbut roaes. Hut stay !"—tho prettv voioo caught itself. " I have a bunch of via lota on my table. Would you like them ?" " Anything any tiling that cornea from your hand!" wluicrcd Robert, more am cere ly than h always spoke. The bright face disappeared a moment from the window and then returned -a white hand gleamed in the mooulight. " There, take them, and uow yon muat go ! Quick ! 1 hear aonie one stirring. Suppose it ahould be mamma ! Good night, dear Robert." The window was softly closed, and in an instant after Robert was groping for the violets in tho wet grass. He found them where they fell. Rut, as they were falliug, the quick eyes of Robert Ed bury had discerned something, bright as a stiu, falling too. The small strip of grass where he had atood was entirely n the shade, hidden from the light by the large horae-oheetuut trees, and he had hv grope in the dark for thia glitter ing thing. An instant's search raven'ed it to bo what he suspected—a lady's bracelet. It was a aleuder circlet of gold, studded with crystal. The quick movement had nnolaspod it from her arm ; and Robert, with a smile, put it aide by side with the withered buueh of violets in his pocket as he rode away. " SoeiKer and crowu I'd fiiug them down. ' sang Mr. Eilbury as he rode swiftly ou in the purple dusk of the trees. "Scep ter and crowu, if I hal them, I'd fling them down for the one bare chance of hearing that lovely voice ouoe again. " He was alone; there was uo one to see him ; and taking the violets oat of his pocket he kissed them tenderly. It was moat alwnrdly sillv of him do it ; but who of us does not do silly things in the heyday of our youth's morning ? Silly things thai we blush'for alterward, perhaps; just its Robert Edbury bluahed when patting the violets again quickly away. " Scepter and crown I'd fling them down. If I might"— But his song got no farther than that ; it died away iu thonght. Passing arm-in-arm down the crowded dancing-room of the Hpa the next even ing, with his friend Norton, Robert Edbury's quick ear was caught by a note which at once arrested his attention. He had said that he should know that divine voice again, hear it wherever or whenever he might, and he was not mis taken. A certain remonstrance lay in its tone ; not to say mischief. "Bnt who could it have been, Robert, if it was not you? It frightens me to think of it. It—it was somebody of vour height and figure. It must have been yourself, Robert." "Bat I tell you it was uot, Jessie. 1 should like to know who it was." *' He was a gentleman, I am sure " with a stress upon the word. " You need not be put out, Robert." Robert Edbary turned and saw close be side him, leaning on that other Robert's arm, a young girl surpassingly beautiful. Roses mingled with tlie bright gold of her hair, shone in the liosom of her dress, and a bunch of them was some how intertwined with the slender gold wrist-chain attached to her fan. Mr. Edbury canght his breath, as, ; turning her face, the girl's soft violet i bine eyeß rested for a moment unrecog- J nizingiy on bis. i " Who is she?" be whispered eagerly ;to his friend. " How lovely she is 1 : What is her name ? By heaven ! I never believed in divine loveliness before ; but here it is, pure and undefiled. What is her name?' "It is Miss Chassdane," was the an swer. She and her mother live at the Grove, half a mile out of town." ! " A farm-house," remarked Robert. "No, it is not. It looks not unlike one. They are people of property. Yes, she is very pretty. I'll introduce if yon like." Half an honr later Robert Edbury was bending over the young lady's hand in the pretty secluded gloom of a vine wreathed window. They were as much alone as it is possible for one to be in the heart of a busy, nuheeding crowd. The first notes of a Strauss waltz were beckoning the dancer*, and gay couples went laughing, hurrying by. " Yon are not engaged for this valse?" said Robert eagerly. Some remembered cadence of his voice struck the young girl'B memory, aud, forgetting to answer him, she looked at him doubtfully, while a rosy blush swept over her forehead. She half knew him and half did not. " Will yon let me look at yonr can! ?" he pursued, as, with perfect oourtesy in his voice and manner, be took the bit of gilt and enameled pasteboard which she had tucked away amid the roses at he wriat. " I—l half promised this dance to Robert," she stammered, flinging a quick glance over her shoulder into the swaying crowd. " Then I Bhall claim it," answered the other Robert, with au audacious smile. He stooped and picked up a rosebud that had fallen, and then held it trinmphaut ly before the flushed and startled face by bis side. "See I" he said, gaylv; "I saved it from being crushed underfoot. Will you not give it to me ?" But she reached out her hand impul sively. " I—l never give rosea to strangers," she replied, with a cold, frightened, angry air. "They are Mr. Robert Stonor s roses. Give it back to me, if yotf please." "My name is Robert, too," he said, in the same gaylv-tender voice, though bia dark face changed a little at her frank confession. " My name is Robert, too, Miss Chassdane. Therefore, may I not claim the rose?" The soft bine eyes, filled with tears, flew np and met iiis. Hbe knew him then. Frighten-M and ashamed*aud trembling from head to foot, she rose impulsively to her feet. He took a step backward, anil they atood so, facing each other a moment in the gay unheed ing crowd. " I know you now," gasped Jessie. " How dare you speak to me again—yon are very presuming, sir. I will not bear it. Give me back my flower aud leave me." " Nay," Mb said gently, but in the tone of a master, "is tiiere cause for anger?" And in a low, reasoning, per suasive voice he spoke to her for some moments; and the rising spirit was calm ed. In spite of herself and against her will she was becoming irresistibly at tracted to this man. " Give me this one waltz, MissChass dane, and then I will give you back yonr roße. It will be a fair exchange. But mind what I tell you, as sure as there is a heaven above us the day is coming when you will offer me a rose unasked. Come*!" The old rose-red flush drifted over the yonag girl's face; his words, and more than all, his manner, impressed her as he meant they should. He stood, with proffered arm, courteously still be side her, and, though protesting inward ly with all her might that she would not danoe, she gave him her band, and in another moment they were floating de liriously together to the strait's of the seductive music. . THE CENTRE REPORTER. When it watt over, Robert led her to her seat near acme friends ; her mother had not gtgio to the rv*>tu that uight. She looked very pale. The pretty roue color hail all died out of the sweet round cheek a. " Are you tamt ? " bo asked anxiously, tieudiug over her. "Are you timl? Shall 1 Ret you aoiue water 1 " No, uo ! " ahe cried, ahtiukiuß awav frvim him. "I am not faint —but k>ok at Mr. Robert Stouor. I have offended him. He ia angry Iveoauae 1 danced with you. Oh, what Bhall 1 do? He ia my ooiisiu, ami has ill-health, aud he must uot te excited. Robert Kdbury turned, and saw stand ing near him tliat other Robert, who threatened to be—or perhaps was—uo mean rival. His ill-health was evident. One hand was pressed to his side as if to still some pain there, and on his handsome blonde face, which was marked by uumistakable truces of ixmtiruiod sickness, a cloud of jealous auger rested heuvilv. The eyes of the two men met, and each kuew the other for a rival. A half smile of scorn, as he looked, curled Robert Edbory'a lips. In. a case like this a mail has uo pity for the ail ments of another. With a grave face, he took from his pocket the rosebud and laid it m MissChassdaue's lap. " Here is your rose," he said, quietly. " I restore it to vou at your wish. Hut remember what i said ; and believe me, time will prove me to be no false prophet." Without waiting for au answer, he bowed ami disappeared amid the throug of dancers, seeking her uo more that uight. "Is Miss Chaasdtuie engaged to tliat man ? " he questioned of his friend Nor ton. " I believe there is uo positive engage ment." was the reply. Mra. Chasadane, it is said, objects to it." "On what score does slie object ? Monev ? " "Oh, no; Stonor has a sinail, com pact estate close by, and is well off. On the score of his uncertain health. Alae, they are cousins." '• Wliat is it that is the matter with him ? " " Some complication, connected witli both the luugs and the heart, which, I conclnde, reuders treatment difficult." " Do you think Miss Chcssdane cares for him t" " I don't think she loves him, Kdbnry —if that's what you mean. It seems to me that she likes him more as a brother. When eligible attentions are paid to girls, they feel flattered, yon know, and respond accordingly. Nine ont of ten of them understood nothing of their own feelings, and mistake friendship for love. Robert Stonor and Miss Chaas (dane have grown np together have been like brother and sister." Frequently they met after that. It was an unusually gay season at Spa field, and entertainments abounded ac cordingly. In the morning dnuking the water, or making believe to drink it; in the afternoon sauntering in the gar dens, or on the parade ; in the eveuing at the rooms, or at private parties ; two or three times did Mr. E lbury and Miss Chassdane meet, and linger bigether, and converse with each other. Robert Edbury s time was his own, and he stanl on. He could have staid forever. The two or three weeks' sojourn he had in tended had more than doubled itself; for he had learned to love her passu >n ately ; and all the world might see it for aught he cared. She too, might see it, if she choee ; but whether she did or not, he could not tell, judging from the grave and sweet dignity with which she met and bore back his eager attentions. At length there came an evening when he was determined to put his fate to the test ; to go on in this un crtainty was worse thin torment. They hail not I>een much disttirltedby Robert .Stonor ; a paroxysm of his complaint had rou tined that gentleman to his own Inline. And so Roltert Edbury weut np to the old gabled house, la-fore which his horse had halted that first night, and nought an interview with Miss Chassdane. Hhe was quite alone. The long French win dow by which she sat was flung wide open, and the low red sunlurht, stream ing in over her, lighted np her fair gold hair and the roses in her dress. " How beautiful she is !" he thought as he took her hand in his. "What if I should not win her after all! But 1 will make a hard fight for it." Jessie looked up inqninngly into his face. " Yon are verv silent," she said ; and then, catching tLe earnest look in his eyes, she blushed violently and drew away her hand. "I love yon," he passionately broke forth in a low tremulous tone, break ing his emotional silence. " I have come to you tins evening to risk my fate by saying this, to win or to lose all. Jeesie, yon mnst know how I love you ; how I have loved you all along, from that very first night that I spoke to vou, neither of ns knowiug the other. Will you not give me some hope of love in fetnrn ? Do not send me from you an utterly broken and discouraged man ! " Jessie was silent for a moment—one long, cruel moment to Robert Edbnrv —then the small, sweet face was turned to him with gentle dignity. Ho knew his doom l>eforehand, ere she spoke the words. "Yon must know how useless it was to speak to me of this," she said. " You knew—surely, you mnst have known— that I was engaged to ny cousin, Rob ert Htonor." " Engage*] to him ? " ".Yes. We are engaged." Neither spoke for a time The scent of the flower*, blooming iu the lonely ground* on tlrs Ride of the bouse, away from the dusty and bn*y highway, neemed to mock them with it* sweetness; the clash ing *hrnb* and tree* wavel gently in the summer evening breeae. He oonld not apeak at once; the sense of hi* bitter loss wo* too great. The netting sun Btreamed in upon him, lighting UP hi* distressed face. It seemed to him that the great old-fash ioned cluck in the hail tickod ont the jeering word*: "Lost! Lost!! Lost lit" " Engage*! I" he Raid, at length, with a long-drawn breath. " I did not know it. Hut engagement*, where no love is, hafre been broken many time* before now!" " Huflh 1" ciied Jeaaie. "Do not apeak like that again. It would kill him I You do not kuow what yon are saying." " Kill him I" "If he heard it, I meant. He *ay* he trutw me." " Anil you are sacrificing yourself for him ! —for a fancy I Hear the truth, Jessie. Yon care not for Mr. Btonor, except as a cousin or a brother. Ex amine yonr own heart, and it will tell von that yon do not. Yon care for me. You love me. Many a half word, a half look has betrayed it to me. Yes, my darling, it is Robert Edbnry yon have learned to love, not Robert Btonor. Your blushes, my love, are betraying it now. Yon " " What was that ?" shrieked Jessie. A low, smothered sound, half fcroan, half cry, came in from the open window. It was so full of pain that i man wonld not care to bear it twice in a lifetime. Before either oould msh ont Robert Btonor stood in the opening. It was a figure never to be forgotten. His handsome face was distorted with either pain or anger ; his lip* trembled; CENTRE HALL, CENTRE CO., PA., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 1!>, 1878. his left hand n.is pressed, with the old familiar gesture, upon his heart. "False, false that you are!' broke at leugth from his bloodless li|e, seined Jessie with his right hiuiii. "I ou told me that you did uot Wire for Rob ert Bdbury I You told me " A pause, a stagger ; and with a fright ful shiver he fell on the carpet. Robert Kdbury broke the fsll |>artially, but he was uot quick enough to quite ssve luiu from it. Jessie flew from the room for aaaiatauce. " Roliert Stouor here !" crusl the be wildertal Mrs. OhaasJane. " 1 thought he was eoufiued to hia ehamlier at hoiue." He hal been conttued to his chamber; but, alas, he had crept out of it that evening, and come up to the house to see Jeasie. With Uie fond hop® of sur prising her iu the usual evening-rooni, he hail gone round the shrubbery, in tending to cuter by tin- window, and hail heard all. On the floor, tin-re as he lay, hia head raised on a cushion by the bauds of R >bert Edbury, he died. The medical men said he could not, in any case, have lived many months, if weeks, but that the agitation had killed him. It was many long days after that, when she hail : sen from the sick bod to which this shiKi < of sudden death had brought her, that Robert Edbury oauic to say farewell to Miss Chassdaiie. The interview was brief, studiedly brief, for, with the shadow of that dead rnau lying between them, speech was difficult to both. " Good-bye," she cried, reaching out to htm an "attenuated hand. " I hop® you may tin J happinws and peace !" "Hut we shall meet again," ened Robert, eagerly. " Surely surely— some time m the future I may come to you." " Hush !" she cried, the tears rolling piteoualy doani her cheaka " You must not speak of that. Robert's shallow would always come between us. as he fell there on tlie floor. We killed him ! We killed him !" aiud ahe wrung her pale hands together ui strong ex citemenk •'Stop!" said Robert Eilbnry, quite sternly, " You ar<> taking an altogether mistaken view of the truth. Ask your mother; ask any one. Rut you are weak aud ill yet, Jessie, and the time has uot come for me to insist on this. Let us think of him, poor fellow, as one who must, if he had lived, have suffered much, and who haa mercifully found peace in the rest of death." He stood for a moment looking witii a fond longing into the small, sw<-vt face, from which the summer ree had fled with grudging haute. Thtn taking fr< in his pocket a fragile gold and crystal circlet he held it out to her. It was the bracelet she loat that fir-d uight of their meeting. "I found it under tti® window that Die lit with the violets," he said. "It fell from your arm. Will you tfke it back now ?" A faint lovely tinge of ml flickered into her cheeks once more. "Nol" she answered, looking into his dark face a ith tender, gt-utle wist ftiluess; " 1— I don't waut to recall that night, or anything ooliuected with it. Yon may keep it if you like. Ho he kuaied her hand and said fare well. But he left a whisper behind him. " When the roei-s bloom again, re member me." A year went by, ami no message came. The sivund rear he said to him self, " Sur !y the will scud for me now!" Hat May and June crept by, ami July caine; bat not one word came from Jessie Cbassdaue. He wm grow ing nick with a wild and helpless de spair, for he felt bow worst- than useless it would l>e to go, uncalled, when one day a letter came fluttering like a white bird to hi* heart: " The roscn art? in bloom, and there t* one fiy yon!" t hnrrhe* In Mew York. A metropolitan paper says: Now York han nit ao many churches as i* generally tnppoaal. The common no tion of the number is about 600, which would not be many for a city containing over l,tk*u 000 peonle. Whila church*** have stesdilv iiemiaei here, it i* thought by many of the orthodox that they have not increased ut arly ao rapidlv aft tl.ey should have done; not, indeed, in pr"iK>rtion to the growing population of the metroiKiliß. Too eburchea at present uuml>er 1175, divided among the following sect* : Protestant Episcopal, seventy-three; Human Catholic, fifty four; Methodist Episcopal, fifty; Prea bytertan, forty-one; Baptist, thtity-one; Jews, twentv-tlve ; Lutheran, tweniy •ne; Dutch Reformed, twenty; Afrioau Methodist Episcopal, nine; United Presbyterian, seven; Congregational, six; Reformed Presbyterian, five ; Uni versalist, five; Unitariau, four; Friends, three; miscellaneous,twenty-one; among the last, one True Dutch Reformed, one Swedenborgian, one Greek (lath olio, It often has been said that there is a mosque here, and also a Josh temple to which Mohammedans and the Chinese resort ; hnt this seems to lie mie of the facts of imagination that so abound nowadays. There may be a place where the Manhat tan (lelestialsworship.t'Utit is not worthy the name of a temple. The churches give, aecording to the population, abont one to every 'J,BOO inhabitants; but a very large proportion of these do not attend church at all. It is sßid that there are in thecitv well-nigh 2,ooollcensed liquor or beer sliopa, or one to every 600 of the population, which would go to show that iiodily thirst for alcoholic or malt liquors is nearly six times as great as hunger of the soul. But iu great citi'-v the worst is always on the surface, and appear ances frequently fail to represent reality. A tramp's queer romance m reported fr<>rn Lebanon, 0., pathetic in it* details ami cruel in its termination. A young woman at Westchester, Pn., had a lover at Wilmington, Del., (tome yearn ago, and her lather smiled on the unit, until William Udderzook WOH hanged lor bntrlieribß (rose, to get the iuaurnnce ou hie life, and it wax known that the lover was a relative of the criminal. Then the father forbade the suitor to come to his house, whieh threw the daughter into an insane melancholy, and angered the young man into a course of dissipation. The old man flnnlly sold his Pennsylvania home and moved to Ohio, but the maiden was trne, and a few afternoons ago threw herself into the arms of a tramp who came to the door to lieg for breud. It was tho miss ing lover, who hod a sad story to tell of a downward career and of wanderings, in which he had been to the Honth Afri can diamond fields. The yonng woman was too glad to find her lover to recoil at his rags or at the story of his dissipa tion, bnt when the fattier appeared on the scene he was possessed with an in sane fury, and beat the tramp so that his life was despaired of. After going for the doctor, the father became inßane, and the danghter was with difficulty per suaded to leave tho wounded man long enough to allow the doctor to attend him. A patent-medicine man posted hand bills in every available spot in a neigh boring village the other morning, and liefore night fifteen goats had enough medical information in them to run an eclectic college. A Strange Romance. The American Reindeer. The artwt. Sir. O. C. Ward, has a paper in Seribnre on "Clrikoii lfttnt lug," from wbioh we quote tut follows : The animal is very compact in Intro, poeaomod of great spaed aud endurance, aud is a very Ishiuaalite iu it* wander iug habits ; changing, uathc pest of flies draws near, frou. the low lying en ami * and woods where Its principal article of diet, the (ladtmta rtmqrfrrina, or rein deer lioheu, abounds, to the highest mountain faatuessea ; then again as the cftld nights give warning of tlic chaug iug season, descending to the plains. llorus are oouituou to both sexes, but the horns of the bucks are seldom car ried later thfcn the month of December, while the does carry theirs all winter, and use them to defend tho Iswus against the attacks of the bucks. Roth sexes use their hoofs to cleat away the *uow in searching for uiot>ss on the Imrrens. lu their biennial migrations they form well defined tracks or paths, along winch the herds travel in Indian file. I have often studied their habit* on the ex teunive caribou barrens lielwuem New river and the head of Lake Utopia, in Charlotte county. New HrunawioA. Theae barrens are aliout sixteen mii*s in extent, and marked with well defined trails, over which the animals were con stantly |*ssing and re passing, here and there spending * day where the lichens afforded good living, then away again on lbeir uever-eiidtug wanderings. A friend of mine, who visited New foundland uu an exploring uX|>®dition, inform* me that there the canlxiu holds almost exclusive domain over an un broken wilderneas of nearly thirty thou sand square miles, in a eonntry woujer fully adapted to his habits, and bountifully supplied with his favorite food—the "reindeer lichen. The caribou is po**c*jd of much curiosity, am! disc* not nastily take alarm at what he seen. Where hi* haunt* liave been unmolested, he will unmu ceroedlv trot up within range of the rifle. I aps inehut-d to believe that a great ileal of thu apparent fearlessness in due to defwt.ve vision. If thia ie o. he is wmj>us*U-d by having a luanruloua gift of mvut, quite mlual, if not supe rior, to that of the mooee. And well for the oaribou that he i* thus gifted. The wolf follows the herda throughout ail thotr wanderings. On tlio plains or ou the lulls, where thu poor oaribou re tire to rear their youug, he is constantly lurking Ui ar, reaily to pounce on any strsgglt-r, or—if in sufficient numbers —to boldly attack the hen!. The woodland caribou isrirerv swift, ' and cunning in device* to escape his pursuer* , lue gait ia a long twinging trot, which he |<erfonua with hi head emit anil scut up, and there ia no ani mal of the deer tribe that affunla better sport or more delieioua food wheu cap tuml. The wandering habit* of the caribou make it very uncertain where one will fall in with him, even in his ac rus bum*! and well-known haunts. When once started, the chase ia an re to be a long cne, ami ita results doubtful—-ui fact so much so that an old huuter sel dom follows up a retreating herd, bnt resorts to strategy and tries to heaa them off, or at ouor proem*!- by the shortest wav to some other twineo in bojx* of finding them there Tne cariboo t very fond of the water, is a capital swimmer, and in jumpfhg he is more than the equal of any other deer. H.s aJveulurou* disposition, no doubt, in some degree ibnueuci** the geographical distribution of the specie*. In the month of December. 1H77, a cari bou was discovered floating out to w* on a cake of ice near D dhousie, ou the BasUgouohu river in New Brunswick, and was captuml alive by aorue men who put off to tmn m a host. It is said thst til very severe NSUIH Urge number* of csriliou cross Irom Labrador to Newfoundland c:i the ice. His admirably-eousUuctisd hoof, with il sharp, shall-like, cutting edges, enables him to cross the toy tk*s ; when travel ing in deep snow, ita lateral txpausiou prevents him from sinking. Carry lag Out HH Cost rai l. The Boston JWwiwipf recalls an in cident which happened in Huston with in a few your*. A young fellow, fresh as a daisy and full of enthusiasm for work, was employed by a then well known firm in the dry goods business. The contract was a simple one, but it wan a contract. On his part the youth was to give liis services anil do whut he win tola. The firm was to pay him slt>o for the first year's work and teach him the busmen*. The money oouaideration was insignificant ; the knowledge ol tbo business was what the youth was after. He was put down the cellar, kept open ing and nailing up boxes, running er rands anil sweeping the store; in a word, he WMS madu to do a porter's work, and his employers no doubt chuckled st the thought they were getting for two dol lars a week work that was well worth fifteen ilollars. But like a sensible fel low, the youth said nothiug until the time VIM up. On the morning of the first anniversary of his coming to the store he was ou hand early, and, when ! the aeuior partner came in, respectfully asked to lie allowed to see him ill the I counting-room on business. The man of business acceded to the request, and the two entered the laek office. "A year ago to-day," said the vonth, closing the door, "I entered your service and agreed to give yon my time and work. Have I done it to tour satisfaction ? " " Entirely so," said the merchant, " and I am willing to increase ' your'"— " Excuse mo," said the youth, "I have more to say. Ton agreed to I pay me SIOO, and you have done it. You aim) agreed to teach me the bnsinesi., and you have deliberately and kuowiug ly broken your promise. I know nothing about the dry goods business, and It is your fault. Ton have robbed me of a vear's time. What do yon propose to do about it?" The merchant looked at I the "boy," but he did not flinch. He had right on his aide, and his employer knew it. He, the roan who jwided him self that his word was as grind as his tmnd, hail been accused by a t>earille*B boy of having failed to keep his agree ment, and knew that the charge was true. He said nothing. " What I want," said the boy, " is au extra SIOO as an in crease." " ion shall have it," said the merchant. "And lieaidoa that, ' con tinued the youth, "I wnut ftUHI addi tional to partly make good your broken promise.' Again the merchant looked iu his eye, hut got no comfort. " Well," lie said, " it's a good deal to pay a boy tbo sec ond year, but I will see about it," and lie did " seealamt it,"for the next morn ing the " boy " was a salesman on a S4OO salary. Debts of I'hlcago Churches. The combined debts of the churches of various denominations in Chicago are estimated to he as follows : Presby terian, $27.1,000 ; Congregationalist, $222,000 ; Methodist, $210,000 ; Bap tist, $200,000; Episcopal, $130,000; Lutheran, $115,000; Unitarian, SBO,- 000 ; Universalist, $50,000 ; Miscrllafic ous, $100,000; total, $1,880,000. A cor respondent of Ihe Golden Itulc says ; /The bulk of this debt may be fairly set down as the product of an almost unpardonable pride of worship within higher walls aud beneath finer frescoes than one's neighbors. massacred in red casus. t altfsrals Mill, Ike Hals narvlvar la fail, ul Srvrs. Trills# ikr Mlarv. A recent RlacJt Hills letter saya : Our ' discussion of mining locations, prospect mg parties end other subject* kindred to a mining centre lin beeu suddenly chuugid Ly the return to the frontier of Witliam Q. Kellou, better known as " California ltill," whose reputation as a scout is widespread ou the plains. His return brings to mind the Indian mas sacre of April lit, iNTfi, known a* the Red Gallon inaanucie, I ruin which lu a party of five men and two women, Cali fornia llill aione escaped. The Jarty, consisting of Andrew Slot* and wife. John liurgeasi r, of Carson, Nevada, fu Mr. (Irnvitsm, of Missouri, Mr. Htimp i son, of Colorado, and a Oolorni woman, otart.-d from Ouster City for Cheyenne April lA, !*<'.. They were attacked by ludiatia in Uci Canon two days after ward, aud all the above were killed out right, or received mounds that mjou re ' aulted hi death. California Kill received . a uutier of wounds, but eeewped. Tliese wounds, however, have made an invalid of him. Though as yet not really recov ered, he has returned to the frontier full of fight. He has related the story of tbe massacre, particulars of which have not before been published. " I started from Custer City on my way out of the Hills to Cheyeana uu the morning of the 14th of April. The first night wv spent in I'leaaaut vallrv. Next morning we moved on, reaching Ihg Hp rings early in the afternoon of the HJtb, and there going into camp. 1 felt aasured that the passage through the . Red Canon would b unsafe for a small jiarty, nnd concluded to await the arnval of a larger one that aas expected to overtake ux A short time afterward. MM**# party arrived with two two-horse teams, hating Mr. Mini Mis. a uegro woinu) from CuUr. and a Mr. .Slimpaou tut passengers. Tito* stopped to water the stock at the spriug, and laughed at uy (tar of trouble ahead, MA vtug tlint they were not afraid of lit diau*. With thia they went on, and at the continued urging of my paam-ngcra, though agaiuat JUT OWU judgment, 1 hiUdiod up aud foliowciL We traveled together undisturbed iu the afternoon, and went into carup at the head of the canon about five o'clock. Everything went off peaceably during the night, aud early oti the morning of the 16th, Raster minday, we started down the canon, seven in number. About half way down the canon, where stands a giant cotton wood tree, there it a line of tow hills, and close to the aide of one of them, skulking well down, I discovered ten or twelve of the painted impa, under the lewd of Hioux Jim, well known at the Itnl Cloud agency, waiting for us. Tbia was about ten in the morning, and my jwrty w*a then about a quarter of a mik ahead of the M-tx ontflt. On seeing tiiat thev were discovered, wiiii a terrible veil the Indian* fired at ua, putting a bullet , through Horgtwaer's leg and one through my hip. Boeing the attack upon na, the Met* party turned about tlieir tHssia auo tu.ieuvur-d to turn up the canon. Oraspiug my r-de. I'jumped from the wagon, sud using it aa a ' breastwork, returned their tie with in terest, knocking two of the cowardly woouiidnds off ibeir pina, and keening the dual in a aloud around them. where aioet of my 1 urriedly sighted abota ••truck. A* I <fui to tire, Graham started t.< run, and vw ahot through the atouiach. He fell. After several voile J, sending a ahower of bullets over oar bead* and into tbe wagon, but doing no further damage, the lnuiana disappeared behind a neighboring hill, and thinking they were running after their ponii a to cut ns off, we mouuted tin wagon and agsm ataried to ruu the gauntlet. We had gaiueti only a few and*. however, before the tienda aa ruddenly appeared on an adjoining ridge, and gave ua another unexpected volley, plugging rae through the left arm into the breset, thrctigh the fleshy psi t of the calf of my right lew, ami again through my sinmlder. For a moment it seemi-d an though I waa per fectly riddled with Irelleta, but I leaiwd to the ground Just aa another volley came, one of tbe bullets striking Itnr geaer in the thigh, knocking him into the wagon box. Keeping close to the front wheel fnrtbeet from tbe Indiana, I drove and ran alongside the wagon for half a mile down the canon, when in cr.x-MDg n Mu all *tream the axle tsroke, and the wagon waa left in the mudi There we wore, all severely wounded, Uie Indiana dose upon ua, and we limbic to more. There was no time for thought, and though rapidly losing courage ami str<*igth from many woutaN. I quickly unhitched the two load mules, wausgeai to get ltur/ user on omj, and while G rash am. whodni not then appear to be severely wounded, ran on down the canon, 1 mounted the othi r and sent tlicm forward as fast as poaiW<. After riding about a mile and a half we met n party of six rn muff la Ouster. and they took na to the Cheyeuue river stage station, where Uurgeaser and (iraaham dual ou the fol lowing morning. " The mutilated bodies of Met/, and his wife and Stimpaou aud the oolored woman were found the next day. Metx and Stinipson had evidently t>een shot oul of the wngoti. Mrs. Meta and the colored woman must have jumped from tlie wagon, tried to escape, and been murderod some distance from where the IKKIIOS of the two men were lying. The liodte* were brought into camp, and all buried side by side, and ou the evening of the 17th of April I found myself the sole survivor of this ill-fated narty. " After lying, more ilee.l than alive, for eight weeks at Cheyenne Hivcr, con tinued the scout, "a few of Capt. E.igau's oonip&uy took me to Fort Tjaramie hospital. Four montha after ward I was sufficiently recovereil to return to my home in Colorado ; bnt two years linve passed, and the wound in my hips is not fully healed. I'm ba *k again in the Hills," he concluded, witji ranch emphaaia, " and though a little the worse for wear, am ready id any moment to mount the saddle, tliP'W the cartridge# into my pet rifle here, anfl give tin* nil men another chain to get the scalp of California Bill." How Ue Astonished the Bull. A Ulen Buttou (Vh) correspondent relates that while a young mau named Pelkte was out hunting s few days ago he ehnneed to espy a for industriously digging for nuce about n decayed stump. Between himself and the mouse-hunter, reclining upon the prouud, quietly chewing his cud, was Z. D. Wilson 9 bull. Cautiously advancing, our hero reached the unsuspecting boviae ; drop ping upon his knees and carefully rest ing ills gnu across the animal's back he pulled the trigger. The aim was true, and sly Reynold fell dead. But wasn't the bull astonished though I Springing to his ieet with a roar, he ran over Pel kie about forty times, and rushed awuy snorting with terror. Tho first thing our friend aw on opening bis eyes was the hull's Ml cleaving the air like a me teor, about a mile away, and the dead foi lying upon the ground hard by. The night of the latter reassured him, and semiring it, he limped homeward, re solved that though great the tribulation bo would never again use a live bull for a breastwork TKRMH: a Yoar, in Advance. THE AMERICAS ULLAGE. Worlal NK<I utrtil IMOM Haw •• Haii a IJfr flaaaaal aai frallaUr. The social potentialities of the average American village are quite beyond any luau a calculation. It Would l>e difficult to find any village in the country which , ha* not the material* and the form* of the l>eat civilsatiuu and culture. If j liieae toieea aud theae material* were not j under reatraiiit, if they were only free to follow their natural impulse* and counter, there would tie universal pro I green. The fact, however, la Unit aliuut universally thr agencies muoerued in raining the aocivi life of a community are, for various reasons, held in cheek, or altogether repreaeed. Let ua try to pa tut a typical village. It ah all oouaiat, sav, of a thousand people, more or loan. The village has its two or three little churches, and these have their pastor* —men of (air education and faultless morals. Bull further, the village has one or two physicians and a lawyer. In addition to theac, there is the pjatmas ter, who is usually a man of activity and influence ; there is the rich roan of the village ; there are the three or four men who are only leas rich than he; there are the young, well-educated families of these well-to-do people ; there are a dozen women who are bright in intellect, and who read whatever they can lay hands on ; there is a fair degree of worldly prosperity, and the schools are well supported. One would say that nothing is needed to make it a model village, full of the liveliest and brightest social life, and possessing all the means and institution* of intellectual culture and progress. To repeat a phase with which we Iwgau, the social potentialities of the village are incalculable. All the agencies and materials aud appurte nance* for a beautiful social life and growth seem to exist, yet the fact proba bly is that the village 1* socially dead. If we look into the condition of things we shall find that the little churches are, through their very littleness and weak ness, jealous of each other; that their pastors are poor anil are kepi upon s starving intellectual diet; that the doc tors and the lawyer are absorbed in their professions ; that the rich men are bent upon their money-getting and money saving, and that all the young people are bent upon frivolous amusements. The village has no public dibrary, no fiublic hall, no public reading room, no jneum, no readiag-eluba, no literary dubs, ami no institutions or instituted mesas for fostering snJ developing the intellectual and social life of the. vil lagers. Wc have seen exactly this condi tion of things in a village many times, and we have seen, under all these pos sibilities and the hard facta of indifTer eaoe or social inertia associated with them, a universal desire for something better. We have seen churches ashamed of their jealousies and the meager sup port accorded to their ministers. We have seen young people dissatisfied with their life, and wishing that >t could be changed, and we have seen our dozen of bright, reading women ready and long ing to make any sacrifice for the pro duct ion of a better social atmosphere. Nay, we believe that the avenge Ameri can Tillage is ready for improvement, ready to tie led. The best social leading ia the one thing lacking. Sometimes it does not need even this ; only some fit ting occasion that shall bring people K> gether, and reveal the under-harmonica which move and the sympathies which bind them. The probabilities are that there is not a village in America that needs anything m re than good leading to raiae its whole social and intellectual life incalculably. The village that is most dead and helpless needs but cue harmouiaiug, un selfish, elevated will to lead and mold it to the b-st life and the beat issues. We aanuot illustrate this power of leading better tiian by citing the result" of the recent cfode of raising church debts. One of the two or three men who have become famous for raising church debts gov* into the pulpit in the morning and stands before a bankrupt congregation. He ia tohl before he enters the building that every effort has I wen made to raise the debt,"but in vain ; that, indeed, the people have not the money, and Oottld not raise the required sum if they would. Yet. in two hours, every dollar is snlwirribed, and the whole church aits weeping in mute and grateful surprise. : No *dvantage whatever has been taken ! of them, and they have simply, under competent leading, done what they have all along wanted to do, and what they have known it was their duty to do. Any man who has ev< t lus i anything to do in organizing the social life of a vil lage has, wc vculare to any, been sur prised, amid what seemed to be univer sal stagnation, to flud how general was the desire for reform. Everybody has been ready. All were waiting for inst the right man to set them going, and he OLly needed to say the word, or hft and point the finger. It ia not necessary to break up any legitimate family feeling that may exist m churches, or to inter fere with social cliques and " seta, or to break down any walla between class es. We talk now only of the general social and intellectual life whtth brings people together in common high pur suits, ami gives a village its character an J influence. It is only from this life that a strong and efficient public spirit can come. A village must hold a vig orous general life outside of sects and clique* and parties before it can make great progress, and it is astonishing how qnieklv this life may be won by the right leading. We assure them that all the people need is good leading, and that there must be one amon*hem who has the power in some good degree of 1 catling, organizing and inspiring a united and better life. It is not an office in which personal ambition has any legitimate plane—that of social leader ship. Auy man who enters upon it with that motive mistake* his position and hopelessly degrades his undertak ing. But wherever there is a slnggish social life, or none at all that is devoted to culture aud pure and elevating pur suits, somebodv—and it is probably the one who is resiling this article —is n<, K" lectmg a duty from which he is withheld, most probably, by modesty. Wc assure him that if he is really fit for his work, he will find an astonishing amount of promising msterial ready and for his bunds. —Scribnw • A Romance of the Press. A gentleman of talents and means is connected witti the press on the Pacific 1 siont. At the house of a friend, uewly arrived, he saw an album filled with por traits. The editorial gentleman wan at tracted by the picture of a New York lady. A correspondence was opened, portraits exchanged, an engagement entered into, and a contract of marriage made before either had seen the other. The gentleman shosred that he meant business by sending on a royal sum to pay expenses. The lady showed her pluck by setting out for the land of gold, all alone, for husband and adiome 3,000 miles away. The parties met at Ogden and exchanged salutations. The lady found her expectations more than met, as her intended weighed over 200 pounds. The oouple reached the coast in the even ing and were married the Bame night. As may be presumed, so excellent a business man did not fail to have a dominie engaged for the arrival. There was no bridal tour, as the ante-nuptial ride of the bride was sufficient.—" Bur leigh'* " New York Letter. NUMBER 51. A Tarpeda-Baat Tb* second exhibition of the Hardy torpedo-boat took place at N. J., in tb* presence of numerous 11***1 offloera uui r]ir*HObtiTn of foreign governments, and waa * com plete success—the opontor director.? tb* BOTMDWti of the destructive hoot ball * mil* *t ae* By mean* of an elee tne current, transmitted through a wire unreeling from the *t*m of the craft. Tbi* formidable opponent of the henry Jronclad* is an iron abell, cigar-like tn form, and t*j*riug at both ends to a point In the ahell ace three chamber* That in the bow ia prepared to bold dynamite, which will be exploded either bv perrnaaion or an electric spark. ftf centra] chamber of the shell contains tank* of carbonic acul and the engine which propel* the torpedo. Tbi* en gine ta driven by the expansive force of carbunie acid gas generated under prea aure in the tank*, and drive* a screw - |iropell*r. In the chamber in tb atera of the ahell ia a r*d of ineolated wira connected with a b*V<cry on rhore. By touching different key* of tbi* battery the torpedo ia put in motion, turned to the right or left, backed or a top pod, aa desired. A apark from tiua battery can ln be used to explode the torpedo, if exploakm by oonteet ia not found to tie the better method. The length of the shell ia about twelve feet, and ita greatest diameter nearly eighteen inches. At 1.30 o'clock the signal waa given and the torpedo waa goullj lowered to the water. It waa nearly submerged by it* own weight. Little red j*ennunta floated from slender rod* at the bow and stem. Hardv, the inventor of the torpedo, who baa worked for more thai twenty yean, ■draggling against .lmooaragernents at : every kind, in order to perfect bia in vention, manipulated the key* of the battery. The boat rented for an in stant quietly, and then Hardy touched a key of the battery. A sharp hiaa of es caping gas followed. The water bab bled under the atern of the torpedo and the blades of the screw began to churn the water. The torpedo moved for ward, at first alowly, then faster and (aster, beading straight oat to sea, and cutting through the water like a rocket, A broad ripple extending many yard* on both side* marked its oouxae. It ; swerved from aide to aide in response to the varioua keys of the battery, the trail ing wire running off the reel like a long serpent Hall a mile oot Hardy pressed another key and the boat stopped abort. Then it began to tnrn alowly to the left and swung around with a grand sweep, under jierfeet control. The torpedo - was out of sight under water, bat the | line of the little flags at her bow and stern marked her motion* perfectly. Coming np from her sweep to the la/ 1, she described a corresponding circle to the right, and returned to the same , point, having cut a figure eight M the water. Then she shot backward and forward, aa Hardy tonched the key*. " Let her go at fall speed, Hardy," ex claimed a delighted stockholder. The torpedo obediently started off, biesmg through the water, while a slender jet of *praj forced by the escaping gas through a bole in the bark of the shell, 1 drenched the little flag in Hie stern ss it felL The spurt of the torpedo ended, it turned docilely and headed for the wharf. The little flag at the bow was seen plainer and plainer. The bow was driven under water, but the iteni rose above the surface as the reel of wire uncoiled. Near the wharf the hissing gas was shut off. The shell shot on with its own momentum and came quietly to a stop st it* starting place. Ike HUthM Index. Mention is made of s device adopted on the New York ekviitd ruilrofcl to supply the piece of the meilow-vcnoed brekc'man in letting the psaaengers know the QUUM of the etalu>n* the train oomes to. The detail* of the iuvention are a* follow*: A shaft made of wood of iron, one-third of an inch in dutnekert ran* from end to end of the oar abore the windows, and to it is attached a crank wheel that ia worked by the con ductor, who stand* on the platform. The wheel is just abore the window at the aide of the door, and is t" be about six inches in diameter. On the shaft is a spooi, around whftch thin canvas or linen-doth rolls aro wound, ami on this canvas are painted at regular iutervais the uames of the different stations. In the sides of the boxes which inclose these rolls are windows about fifteen inches long anil six inches wide. One turn of the wheel by the oonductor on the platform revolves the spool in the indi cator-box and places tnffore the window the name of the station the train will next reach. The m<dl shows throe in dicator boxes, one at *ch end of the car and one in the middle. windows are painted the words " Next Station." The boxes at the cod of the ear are jast over the doors. The boxes inn be put on any part of the shaft and as many of them as may be necessary can be* put on. When the conductor closes the platform gate he turns the wheel and tbc name of the next station appears in the windows of all the indica tors. As the train neurs a station the conductor pulls a knob attached to a wire, which strikee a gong near the cen ter indicator, and that warns the passen gers that they are new a station; ami when the traiu starts from the station the gong is sgain struck. The ap|>ara tns can be operated from both end* of the car, and thus one man can work two cars. The wheel is turned in one direc tion until the end of the route is rowched. On the return trip the wheel is worked in the reverse direction. The indicator-boxes are to be of wood, and ibont twelve incbee souare. Tbo namee of the stations painted on canvas rollers will be in plain, bold letters four inches in height. ' What s Woman's Were Holds. A woman's glove is to her what bis vest pocket is to a man. But it is mare capacious, and in niuety-uine instances out of one hand fed it is much better regulated. A man will carry two dol lars' worth of small change, four match ra, half a doaen tooth-picks, a short pen oil aud a pack of busiuess cards in his vest pocket and yet never be able to find a nickel or a match or a tooth-pick or a pencil or a cant, when be wants it. Not so with a woman. She has the least bit of a glove, and in that glove she carries the tiniest little hand and a wad of bills and memoranda for her intended pur chases and dress goods samples and car tickets and maybe a diminutive powder rag. We have no idea how she -does it —how she manages to squeeze those thousand and one things into that wee epaoe. But Bhe does it eveiy time, and the glove never looks the least bit dis composed or plethoric or ruffled. And when the woman wants any article con cealed abont that glove she doesn't seem to have the least, trouble in the world getting at it. All that Is required is a simple turn of the wrist, the mo mentary disappearance of two fairy fin gers and the desired article is brought to light. It is a wouder that no savant can explain I— £>t. Louis Journal. In less than thirty years, 72,000 miles of railroad have been constructed iu the United States. The value of property in this oountry has in the same period increased from $8,000,000,000 to SBO,- 000,000,000. Exprrtatiea. W. tod into U>* ood*d way. Mow Miridttt* shadows Uy. Ws rod*, sad wst *• k*dtof 4bj; Ws mid, "It is too lata. -n. wwti Th. bokU hto *o W brmat- Rb bolls sod bush*# hi* to r * C For.mrßU too>t# ••To mo Us loaf taks Bro now, TOM*, mm) than to wood** how Tb* glory psass* on tb* bough, Wliil* paettog g*s*-to|>* ■*•* Wb-*, lo! tb* mlfMl* omm on A rosdstd* turn—* mommt |0- Aod for tb* win low-tytag oboo*: Tb* for**t wood lo ataia. TrsnsflfUrad *prM<! tb* Ab®l spaes i Tb* glomnar laapad about tb* ploo*. And tooofaad ns. swept ,ro ® lum 10 W* orWd, " Mot JT*t too I*l* " But on*, who o**m to* tbon *ll. Lssasd (ow ond Wbkpmnd "Sana *f * Or fta*b, daarbesrt I I ap**h sad e*U Tow soul onto IU f*l*. Tread brovsty down lit* a seanlng *Jop*. liafore tb* n#gbt MM*; do not grop*' Forever *hla* ton* wsaU, ho P* And Ood b do! too Hit*." _ jQooMA n*4 /*Mjw < Harper"*. Items of latere*!. Bailable apartment* for a castle in the air—A brown study. Mr Astor. of New York, tm in in omnr of *6OO an hour. (toots are made on the Pacific coast with pocket* for pi*tola> their tope. Patience is s commodity which always brings a large price, but the market is seldom overstocked. Tea waa used in China loag before it wan cultivated, several varieties of tb Sh growing wild We pern our litre ua regretting the paat, complaining of the present, and indulging faiae hopes of the future. Every j-erebo ha* two education*, one which be receive* from others, and one, more important, which be ft*"* huß ' self. Everv <e is the poorer in proportion aa he lima more wants, and count* not what he has, but wishes for what he has oot* The Haekiwesek Repvbhmn savs " a good pfaymemn snatches many bodies from untimely graven, aad gets paid for it, too.** •• Always pay as yon go," said sa old man to hui MMv. ** But, uncle, sup pose I baWt anything to pay with ? •• Then dent go." There is no groat difference between man and man. Superiority depends on the manner in which we profit by the lessons of neoausßy. There are 777 potteries is the United Btatea, paying annually *2,347,731 wages, and tarofiig out product* to the value of *6,045,586. Little joTi refresh tu constantly, like liouae-bread, *ju<l Deeer bring diagnst; and greet one*, like ragmr-bread, briaf !y, and then astietw. By the mde of the Telle theater, in Roma, Italy, a ehoseh, built by the Biptut* at a ooat of HO,OOO, baa jnat been opened. haul a mother to bt*r hule aon: "There! Your totfi are oat erf yoar stockings again. Seema to me they wear oat in a hurry." Giwinga comical leer, he aaid : "Do yon know why etoekiags wear oat first at the toeer "Kfc" " Beoaoae toaa wriggle, and beela don't." Western swindlers happen into m |,.M mhe bats on future erent# and See the atakee to the landlord# to hold ; en, a few days later, happen bank, and agreeing to draw the bet, obtain good money from the saloon-keeper, their baaa oonterfeita baring meanwhile been mixed up with bin each. When Prof. Wataoo, or aome other pro feasor, diaeorera a new star, it ia tel egraphed all OTer the conn try. Bat when an unscientific gent steps on tha slippery mde of a pool at frozen water, oanwae* the cerement with the back of hia head, and aeea millions of new me teors trending at the rate of two billion miles a aeoomf, and a whole firmament of new stars shooting hither and thither, he keeps the wonderful dwjem-ry a ae oret. He doesn't hanker for newspaper notoriety.— XarrxMtovn Htrald. I hare opened and read TOOT fra grant epistle, dated the fourteenth day of the third month of the year 1878, ac cording to your honored reckoning," writes Kusumoto Masataks, prefect of Yeddo, to bis excellency Charles S. Grundy, prefect of the city of Manches ter. scan'.*lodging the receipt of aome desired information as to munxapal management in Great Britain. The mmn nniea to on ia iueJoeed in k beautiful Japanese casket, adorned with gold and and silver flowers and other objects in relief. ____________ Wards af Wisdom. - A uhie man compare* aad estimates himself by an idea which is higher than himself, and a mean man by ooe which is lower than himself. The one pro duces aspiration, the other ambition. Ambition is the way in which a vulgar man aspires. An infant, a prattling child, dy*ng in its cradle, will live again in the oettar thoughts of those who love it, and plays it* part through them in the redeeming actions iff the world, though Its body is burnt to ashes or drowned in the deep eat sea.—Wchtu. Nothing at fir* frames nA false in mates as an imaginative temperament. It finds the power of areafcon to easy, the path it fashions ao actual, that no marvel for a time hope is its own . jcur ity, and the fancied world appears the true copy of the real. The family is the miniature common wealth upon' whose integrity the safety of the larger commonwealth depends. It is the seed-plot of all morality. We express the noblest longings of the hu man heart when we speak of a time to come in which a!! mankind will be united aa one family. Men, aa a rule, are easily attracted by a beautiful face, but stall it ia an in ternal beauty of character by which a woman can exert the greatest amount of influence. A true-minded man, though *t first enamored by the glare of per sonal beauty, will soon feel the bollow neM of its charm when he feels the lack of beauty in the mind. Inestimably great is the influence a sweet-minded woman may wield over those arowff ber. Yon are walking through a forest. On the ground, across jour path, lies stretched in death a mighty tree, tall and strong, fit mast to carry* cleud of canvas and bear unbent the attain of tempests. You put yonr foot lightly on it, and how great your turprisa when, breaking through the bark, it sinks deep into the body of the tree—s result much less owing to the pressure of your foot thsn to the poisonous fnnjfi and foul crawling insects that hare attacked ita core. They have left the outer rind un injured, but hollowed out its heart. * Take care your heart is not hollowed oat- and nothing left you but a crust and shell of an empty prof fusion. Shallow rivers are commonly noisy rivers, and the drum is load, because it is hollow. A "Novel Way of Destroying Sharks, Best of all modes of shark chase, be cause most scientific, and ooflseqnently most; amusing, is that recently adopted in her majesty's navy, of combining tor pedo drill with shark fishery. ' A minia ture torpedo is inclosed in a bait of jonk orpork, and lowered with proper care. Tne battery is duly charged, and at the moment when the huge fish seizes —and as a pike fißher would say, • pouches "—the tempting fhorsel, the oireuit is completed. Hie effect is in stantaneous. The head snd jsws of the monster are blown into fragments, and a bubbling circle in tiie water marks the spot whore a few seoonds before his dorsal fin was showing sur face.— London News, , Every man is made better by the pos session of a good picture, if it fi only a landscape on the back of a hundred dollar note.