Departed Day*. Like dear, dead friends, to ni'mor* dear Far nion> beloved nine* we may fata No mora upon their faces here, Ara our sweet vanished day*. Within those haarta of oum thay wak* A sad, sweet spell, and minister Unto onr semis ever to make Us better. holier. Though loet to us, ah, who shall Say Wa may not lira tham o'ar again. As wa may rnaat our daad soma day Bayond tha shitting tnaia * Within our breast* lat hope, tha star. With pnwrr to cheer each throbbing till . Shina brightly till wa greet tha lar Flown hi is* bayond tha slrila. —(i. .V. Eorc'oy. is d. Y. K*minf Pj. The Two Mysteries. We know not what itis, dear, This steep so deep snd stil'. The folded hnnds, the awlul calm— The cheek so pale snd still The lids that ill not lilt again. Though we ma> eat! and call— The strange white solitude ot peace m That settles over all. We know not what it mean*, dear, This desolate heart (win — This dread to take our daily way, And walk in it again; We know not to what other sphere The loved who lease us go, Nor whv we're lett to wonder still. Nor why we do not know. Bui this we know; our love,! and dea,t tf they should coiv.e the, day, Should come an.l a.-k u*. •' What is lite * Not one ot us could any lute is a mystery as deep As ever death can tie; Yet. oh, how sweet it is to us. This Ute we liv e and see. Then might they say —these vanished one*— And blessed is the thought. •• So death is sweet to us. beloved ' Though we may tell you naught. We may not tell it to the ijuick— This mystery at death— Ye may not tell us il v would. The mystery ot breath " The child who enters life comes not With knowledge or intent. So those who enter death must go As little children sent. Nothing is known: "ait 1 believe That liod i* overhead. And as life is to the hv ing. So death is to the dead. Nil* Francitco I'ail. BLOWN AWAY. There were three of them—Kitty. Mary ami little Tummv —the children of the station-master at Black River June tion. on the tin-nt Southwestern rai,- road. The station stood alone on the open prairie, tuilc- and tniles front any where in particular. Black river flowed through the mountains, a hundred miles away to the north, and on clear days the snowy mountains could t>e srn glimmering on the grassy horizon. The line leading to the Black river met the Southwestern here, and thus it was the place was called Black River Junction. Tl;e stat ion-ma iter and his wife and three children lived in the little depot ouite happily, but there was not another family within ten miles in any direc tion. At times tin- children thought it rather lonely. There was nothing in particular to be done, except to watch the trains that stopped at the junction several times a day. Once in a while a freight ear would be left on the side track, and the children soon found that an empty freight car makes a capital piav-house. They could k**ep house in the corners and make visits, or sit by the open door and make believe they were having ride. One morning they were awakened by a curiods humming sound out of doors, and thev all scrambled up and looked out of the window. How the wind did blow! It whistled and roared round the house arid played on the telegraph wires upon the roof as upon a huge harp. As the wires were fastened to the roof the house became a great music-box. with the children inside. After break fast the morning trains arrived, hut the wind was so high that the passengers were glad to hurry from one train to another as quickly as possible. Then the trains went away, and the great wind-harp on the roof sang louder than ■ aver. The station-master said it blew a gale, and that the children must stay in the house, lest they la? blown away into the prairie and be lost. Tin- station-masters wife said it was a pity the children must stay in the house all day. There was an empty freight car on the side track; per haps they might play in that. The station-master thought this a good idea, ami he took Kitty by the hand and Tommv in bis arms, while Mary took held of his coat, and they all went out to the empty car. Whew! How it did blow! They certainly thought they would be lifted up by the wind and blown quite into the sky. The*empty car was warm Jand snug. and. once in side, they were quite out of the way of the wind. Mary thought the rear end would be a good place to keep house, but Tommy preferred the other end. so they agreed to keep house at both ends of the empty ear. This was a nice plan, for it gave them a chance to visit each other, and the open part by the door made a prom enade to walk on. Iuder and louder roared the gala. Safe and snug in the car. they went on with their play and thought nothing of the weather outside. Suddenly the igr seemed to shake, and they stopped in Their housekeeping and ran to the door to see what had hap pened. * 4 Why, it's moving! Somebody's pushing it." said Mary. "They are taking us away on tlx* freight train. Come, we must get out. ' "1 didn't hear the whistle." said Tommy. " I guess something is push ing the ear." The girls leaned out of the door to see what Had happened. Why, there was the platform? What was the matter with the station? It was moving away. No, it was the ear. It had left the sid ing and had rolled out upon the main line and was moving taster and faster along the road. "Oh, we must get out! They are tak ing us away." " No. no," said Kitty. " We must stav here till the brakeman comes round. I didn't hear them when they took us on the train." * " There isn't any train," said Tommy looking up and down the line. "Ohi it s the wind! It's blowing the car away. We must put on the brakes • and stop it." This was a good pian, but how were they to carry it out? The brake-wheel was on top of the ear, and they were in side. Faster and faster rolled the ear. It began to rattle and roar as if dragged along by a swift engine. In a moment Tommy began to try. Mary tried to look brave, and Kitty stared fast at the level prairie living past. It was of no use. They all broke down together and had a hearty cry alone in the empty ear as it rolled on and on before the gale. The station-master's wife rolled up her sleeves to put the house in order while the ehiluren were safely out of the way. The station-master, feeling sure the children .were safe in the freight ear, sat in his office nearly all the morning. At last the beds were made, the dinner put on the fire, and the mother wondered how the girls were getting on in their play-house on the tracK. She threw a shawl over her head and went out on the platform. At once the wind blew the shawl over her face, and she could not see exactly where she stood. Turning Iter hack to the wind she began to call the children. How loudly the wind roared through the telegraph wir< •-! Perhaps they could not hear in '■ t this din. Maybe they were inside th car out of hearing. She walked on tov ,rd the siding. Not a thing to be seen! She wondered if there had not been a mistake. Per haps the car was on the other side track? No, the rails were unoccu pied as far as she could see in every direction. What did it mean? What had happened ? She staggered back into the station and startled her husband with cry of despair. FRED. KTJIiTZ, mid Propriotor. VOLUME XII. " Tha oar! Tha children'" Tha station-master ran >ut upon tha platform and looked m> and down tha line. Not a oar in sight! It had )>aon blown awav before tha tarrilda wind, and waa parhnu at this instant rolling swiftly onward with it* precious load to destruction. What would happen it' Would it meet a train or run into a sta tion* Would tha children try to got out, or would thay stay in the car till it was wrecked? He sprang to the door of the depot to telegraph the terrible news down the line, hut just as he opened the door he saw a faint white cloud on the western horison. It was a train. Help was coming. At tite same instant his wife appeared with new grief and terror in her eyes. " I cannot get a call in either direction The wires are blown down." This only added to the danger, tor there was now no means of sending word i.. advance of the runaway car It must go on to its fate without hel or warning. " Help ts coming, mother. Here's a train bound east." Nearer and nearer came the train, and the father and mother slots! watching it as it crept along the rails. It seemed as if it would never come. At last it readied the platform and proved to be a passenger train hound up the Black river road and not intended to go in the direction in which the car Itad been Mown away. The instant it stopped the station-master ran to the engineer and told his terrible story The mother, with quicker wit, found the conductor and demanded that the engine lw taken off and sen: after the children The conductor wan a man of regular habi's, and such a bold request struck him as something extraordinary. Take the engine off and leave lie train and passengers waiting at this lonely station? The idea was preposterous! Some of the passengers gathered near aint askM what was the matter. Three children lost; biown awav in an empty car. Some one said, "Yes, go at once. We can wait here till the engine returns." The conductor said he must telegraph for instructions; but some one said. " The wires are down," and the people only cried out the more, " 1-ct the engine go!" so the mother ran to the tender and began to pull out the pin, that the engiue might start. "Hold on, inarm "said a brakeman. " I'll east her off. You jump alioard if you want to go too. Fire up. Jack, and make her hum " It was all done in a moment, and away flew the engine, leaving the conductor and the station-master staring in surprise at this singular proceeding. The station master did not feel very happy. He had half intended to go with the engine, but it would never do to leave his post. " Fire steady. Jack." said the engineer to the fireman. "It's no use to get ex cited. for we're in for a long race." " It's enough to make a fellow excited to see that woman," said the fireman. The engineer turned round, and there by his side stood the mother, her eyes straining ahead down the line in search of the missing ones. " Oh, sir! open the throttle wide. I\n't try to save coal at such a time as this." " We must keep cool. marm. and go steady, or we shall run out of coal and water and come to a standstill on the line." The woman said not a word, hut nod ded mournfully and leaned against the side of the cab for support, and the fire man gave her his seat, where she could look out ahead over the line. How the en gine shook and roared 1 The little finger of the steam gauge trembled and rose higher and higher as the steam pressure in creased over the raging fire. The engine seemed to be eating up tile track in front, and liehind the rails spun out like shin ing ribbons in the sun. The station and train had falready sunk down out o sight, and the grassy vorizon on either side seemed to fly away in a kind of gi gantic waltz. The wind died away to a dead cairn, and in a few moments a littiv breeze sprang up and blew in at the front windows. * "We are beating the wind.*'said the engineer. "If we ean keep up this pare we shall soon overtake them.* " How long have they been gone?" shouted the fireman. above the roar of the engine. " I don't know." streamed the woman, without taking her eyes from the hori zon where the rails met the sky. "It may have l>een two hours or more. They were playing in the empty ear." " flow did she get out of the siding!" (He meant the car.) " It's one of the new switches," said the engineer. "Cars can easily iump out upon the main line." Ah. something ahead. Was it the runaway ear? No. the next station. What a terrible pai-e! Twentv miles al ready ! "Ob. don't stop!" cried the woman, as she saw the engineer put his hand on the throttle-valve. " I must, inarm. We are getting out of water, and perhaps we can I'-arn something of the runaway." Thesuoden arrival of a solitary engine, containing two men ami a woman, star tled the station-master, and he came out to sec what it meant. He seemed to guess at the truth, for he said: " After the runaway ear?" "Yes. yes." There were three chil dren inside." " Oh, marm. I'm sorry for ye. It went past here, going twenty miles an hour. It came down grade all the way, but the up grade begins about two miles out. I was inside when it passed, and didn't see it till it had gone past the door." How long it took to fill the tender! Thetngine stood hot and smoking by the water-tank, and the water ame out in a slender stream, while the poor mother SUHMI looking on. tearful and impatient. "Hood-bye! I'll put up the pipe.— Heaven help ye!—the up grade—— ' The rest was lost, for the engine shot ahead on and on out over the ope# prairie. The water-tank seemed to ink down into the earth, and the shining rails stretched longer and longer out he hind. Ah! What was that? A cloud of steam on the horizon, far ahead. The engineer took out his time-book and studi'-d it carefully. " Freight No. 6. bound west, stopping on the two-mile siding." How swiftly Freight No. fi rose al>ove the grass and grew big along the way! Listen! A whistle. The engineer whis tled in reply and shut off steam. Their engine quickly slowed down and they could sis- men Ji-aning out from the other engine as if to speak to tlx m. "It's ten minutes back. Running slow on main line—road—clear—" "Thank Heaven!" said the woman. The engineer said nothing; put at that instant the engine gave a great leap anil shot ahead, at the rati' of fifty miles an hour, up the easy grade. How long tin minutes seemed, and yet each meant al most a mih ! Ah! A speck—a black dot on the horizon! Tne car? Yes. It was the car. It grew bigger and bigger. Now they could see it plainly. Hut the chil dren ! Where were they ? The fireman sprang out through tint forward window and ran along the engine and down upon the cow-catcher. The monster began to slacken its terri ble pace, and in a moment it struck the car with a gentle jar and stopped. The fireman thought himself a lively man, but the woman was before liiai and sprang up into the car. There they lay, safe and sound, in the corner of the ear—Mary and Tommy fast asleep, and Kitty watching over them. •*oh! mother! I knew you would come. Mary and Tommy cried them selves to sleep, and I 1 Nobody could say a word. The fire man tried to rub his eyes, and only marked his face with black streaks. The mother laughed and cried all at THE CENTRE REPORTER. once. The engineer picked up the little ones and ijuielTy took them into tin- oah of the engine. "There, now. my hearties, vou have had a risky ride; hut it's all right. Come' We're tuore than thirty miles front home, and it won't do to he late for dinner. Eire up. Jack." S* AVAonn Needed, Looser Habits. A large proportion of our discomfort itt hot weather come* from our fashion of wearing apparel. Our garments are not adapted for torrid heats t hir dress conforms mainly to fashion and cool weather. The garments of the native of the trop ics tit him loosely. Ours are light \\ e bandage ourselves with stiff linen collars and necktie*. Our feet are now cramped, feverish and uncomfortable in the shoo and stocking of civilisation. The Ori ental has the sandal or slipper, which is merely a -ole caught to the foot. The turluut of light, gauzy material is a let ter protection for the head than our al most rimless and senseless summer hats. We allow tailors, who remain almost entirely indoors, to devise the shajie of garments with which we must brave the scorching sun We must w ear the Ivuul aging shirt collar, though it be required to change it half a dozen times daily. A spring <>r summer hat means in many case* a bat of iiglit color, but wliiclt in other respe.-ts would answer as well ft>r winter as summer. This is another tri umph of the designing hatter But let our garments be of what cut, color or fashion they may. for summer thev must be tight tilting. They must exclude air front the skin, litis is tin law of custom and fashion. In winter, the closer tit ma\ be desirable because we need as much as possible t* retain the natural heat of the body. But in summer we require to rid ourselves of superfluous heat. Thin clothing doe* not answer this purpose if thin clothing " tits like a glove. 1 ' Yet with his tinder shirt, shirt, vest and cvwit. the gentleman of the period goes about with lour tight, natty-biting bandages about hi* j arson and then complains of the heat, lie swathes his legs in tightly-titling drawers and trousers. 11 is feet are likewise actual ly bandaged with close-lilting leather and cotton, sitk or linen, and he corn plains of the heat. He perch** on his itend a hat nearly devoid of rim and com plains that the sun dazzles bis eyes. For protection and comfort in hot weather the European costume is a mass of al>- surdity. We could, with advantage to health and comfort, take lessons of the Orientals. But who will have the cour ige to appear on the street in Turkish trousers? He would be mildly mobbed. Yet we scorn the people of Ixuuion who tltrcw the mud of prejudice at the man brave enough to carry then- the first umbrella, likewise an adaptation from the Oriental. And our women bandage themselves in light but light material even more than the men. and their only comfort in this hot weather is. tirst. to make themselves secure against visitors, retire to their inmost chamber, close the blinds and take it off. And we are Un people who propose to carry the war into Africa and teach*the benighted dweller of the desert how to live! I>*t it IK* remembered that among us. where f>ne person dies immediately of sunstroke, ten of whom we never hear art* seriously and probably permanently ityurcd through the same t-ausc. and twenty more indisposed. The exhaus tion caused through a succession of blazing, scorching days take-, many forms of disease, and some of this might IK* avoided if our customs conformed more to the requirements of this trying season. Our June. luly and August climate is tropical. We need to study tropical summer habits, where nearly all the outdoor lalntr is performs! in the early morning or evening, where garments are worn, not only thin hut loose, save when the Kuropean clings with senseless prejudice to the fashion of his own country.— New Vork (iritphic. Coney Maud. A New York paper discusses about the city's great watering place as fol lows: Coney Island ha* become, since it* rehabilitation, not the seaside resort of Brooklyn. New York and aifjncent towns ar.d cities tnerdlv, but of the country at large, indiaa! of the whole continent. At the Manhattan ami Brighton beaches, a- they are now named. with a view of dissociating them from the rather unsavory reputation ac uuired by the island in years gone bv. :nav be si-en. on any hot day, people from nearly every State in the I'nion, from tlw Territories also, and from Canada, Mexico and the West Indies. Hardly any great city on the globe is so near the sea as New York, is forty miles up the Thames; Paris, 111 miles from the mouth of the Seine; Berlin, Vienna, Madrid, .-ire near the renter of the countries of which they an- capitals. Hamburg is seventy miles from the sea: Bremen is so inaccessible to large vessels on account of sand in the Wescr that Bremerhafen has been built for their accommodation, and is really, : its name indicates, the port of the city. Rome and St. Petersburg are further from the Mediterranean and Baltic than New York from the Atlan tic. Philadelphia and Baltimore are, strictly speaking, river towns; but this city is only eleven miles from the open ocean, aniloffers such facilities for reach ing it that it may le said to be at our very doors. At no other seaside place on the globe are there such crowds a* there often ate at Coney Island on Saturdays, Sundays and holidays. Twenty or thirty thousand people make no show, and fiO.OOO and 70.000 have been reported there again and again. <)n two or three days last summer the throng was estimated at from 80,000 to 100.000. Another resort so popular and populous can scarcely be mentioned. Perhaps Margate approaches nearest to it; but Margate is seventy miles from liondon. and can very rarely exhibit such a Concourse as Conev Island can on a sweltering Sunday, 'f he crowds at the beaches an- curious and interring as studi<"s, much more so than the spot itself, tir any of its material adjuncts. They furnish endless sources of observa tion and speculation to anybody con cerned with or alniut humanity. The island itself is but a strip of barren sand redeemed and glorified by the one fnc that the ocean breaks bountifully on its southern shore. When the mercury mounts into the nineties, Anuiicans will go anywhere for a promise of cooi ness, especially to Coney Island, whirl seems to be the most frequented wntej ing place in the world. Recalled to Life. The recall of a girl to life bj§a sis ter's shriek is one or the local topic* of the Jourtuil, of Evansville, Ind. The young lady bad been auite ill for weeks, and was thought to IK- dying of con sumption. §he had grown so weak and emaciated that her strength was no more than a child's. One afternoon, while lying upon Iter couch, her sister came in from a walk and sat by the bedside. A conversation began, and th • invalid be gan to speak. As she uttered the first won! she felt a iwwildering weakness, and a sinking flutter of her breath. Her eyes became fixed, the lower jaw dropped as in death, and the body became mo tionless, while consciousness disap peared. The sister leaped from her seat and ran to the door shrieking to her mother that her sister was dead. The I sound of the shriek penetrated through j the veil of death, and roused the sinking i faculties. The blood, which had oon ' gested the lungs, was sent hack by the i nervous shock, and gathering her | strength by a strong effort of will, the invalid opened her eyes and awoke to , life again, breathless and amazed at the ' thrilling peril she had escaped. CENTRE HALL, CENTRE CO., l'A., THURSDAY, JULY 24, 187t>. EDWARD I'AYNO* WENTO# of the U iiiuri of the iatlf) Hr It. A New York paper give* this sketch j of the life of K. 1" Westou, lite world's champion pedestrian, who won the Sir . John Astlcybcll wt'< -sled trom O'ia-ary ty KowelJ iii New York in laindoit. and made the uuprwvdwtal nvvird of ,YSO mile* in si v days Kdwmrd I'ay sou Weston, the chain pion long distance pedestrian, wo* born in I'rovnlcnce, K I , March |5, lodti According to a quaint biography writ ten by ltis mother in lr the Turt. AW Id Aiirm, he weighed at his birth only four pounds i\ ounces, and wa* for years a weakly, sickly child. He showed no powers ot eudur&nce in bis v out It. and un to the age of nineteen lie was eonsideied a youth ot feeble frame, lie tirst came before the public in the spring of 1881. lie then walked from Boston to Washington to witness the inauguration of Abraham Lincoln The leat wa* performed in payment of a wager that air. Lincoln would not lie elected, lie started from the steps ol the 80-101 l Stale House <>n the 5M ol February, and reached Washington on March 3. The whole distance traveled wa- 4A3 miles, and the actual time oecu pied was VMS hours. Weston aft.*r ward came to this city, w here he engaged in ; the occupation of selling periodicals . His occupation developed lits walking iK>wer, and he became known among his associates as a man capable of en during great-fatigue. This reputation, and possibly the lik ing for pedestriauistu developed b\ bis walk in I*6l, resulted in bis undertaking, in the fail of I*B7, hi- great walk from i'ortland. Me . to Chicago. This wa> betdre long-distance pedestrians lmd coiue into notice, and tin- announcement that a man was to undertake to walk 1,228 miles on ordinary roads in thirty conseeutive days created great excite nn-nt It was said at the tittle that he was walking for a purse of £lo,last in case he accomplished the undet taking, and $8,01)0 if he succeeded in making led miles in twenty-four hours. On the2tfth of th-tols-r. IMi", at niHin. he set out from Portland. He made four altem.it* to cover the 100 miles in twenty-four hours. In the tirst attempt he made sixty-three tuiics; in the second even l<-s- on ac count of k-ul roads; in the third, ninety one miles, with over three hour* to do th* nine miles in. but gave up. lie says, by the advice of his trainers and friends, who were with him. This failure hurt Weston, who was openly charged with being Isiught off. He always stoutly dented the charge. His last attempt to walk hx> mile* in twenty-four hours was mad.- on the 95th .! November. H< only made eighty-six miles. Her*u*h*l t'hicago on Thanksgiving day. Novem ber fW. and vvas received with great demonstration. This walk made W*s. ton's name a household woad for months. His effort inspires! young men everywhere to become pedestrian*, and gave the start to the pedestrian mania which ha* become so general. His name was upon all lips, liis photograph in nearly ad households. There were Weston sIpH-s. Weston hat* and \N • -ton coats Musicians composed \\ • sion marches, and young ladies danced to Weston waltzes Hie ped*strinn was determined not to give up the idea of walking 100 hours in twenty-lour hours, and. after a lecturing tour eastward. In* made the attempt on Octolx-r 7, IMtS, at White Plains. He accomplish)*! the task in twcniv-tuo hours, ten minutes. ten seconds, ami the sporting papers ~f the time ch;traoteriz>*l the feat as unpre cedented. In the same month Colonel Pari Kice, the veteran circus man. offered to give him a purse of #90,000 if he would wa.k 5.000 nub's m too conw*'Utive days, not to wa.k on Sunday* The com-spond enrc ix*t ween Hit** ami Weston developed the fact tliat the pedi-strian was re iigiously inclined, ami his letters were tilled with pious sentiments. He also was an avow*l temperance man. The result wa- that many exiadlcnt people who wouid naturally have nothing to do with professional p<-dt*trian* gave Wes ton their hearty sympathy, notably Dr. ri.*Hlore t'uyler. whose correspondence with Weston was nublislied at the tim*. However, the 5.000 mile walk failed from a lack of funds to carry it out. Returning to New York, after a lectur ing t"Ur. Weston gave azi exhibition walk in Steiitwav 11 i... at which HoflCC t Irccley presided, and which many prom inent persons attended. Weston walk)*l little for several vear except when his duties if-|uir*l it. lb ln*-nmc a reporter on th Sim. ami it fell to liis lot to vi-il the poiita* stations on the -a*t side of tin* city at a late hour at night. in <*>ming to the City Hall from Fifty-ninth stn*-t became proverbial, lie used to say tliat he m-v • r rode in str*et curs unless lie wa* in no hurry, and lie often beat them in making atrip. The most sueeessful walk in this eitv was in the spring of 1*74. On May II he started on a six days' walk in tlie American Institute Kink, with the in tention of making 500 miles. In the first twenty-four hours he made 115 miles, but lie faibs! to cover more than 450 in the six days. This was consid ered giMMt walking then. In September of the same year he twice attempted the same feat in the Hippodrome, and each time he failed. On tlie 14tli of 1t tu ber he lwgan his six days' walk in Newark, and he claimed to have walked in tin- six days, b'-s twenty three ami three-iiuarter minutes. sin miles. He coverea Ilsmib*s in twentv tlin** hours and two minub**. In March. !*75, lie beat K Judd in asiv days' walk in the Hippodrome in this city, walking 431 miles. In No vember of that year he vf.*lk<*l against O'Uwj in Chicago for six days, and was beaten. O'ls-ary malting 503 miles and Weston 451. After this walk Wes on went to F'.nglatul. and on the 30th of September. l H 7fi. walked 5004 miles forty-eight yards in six day*, in Liver- JMMII. In December of the same year, in a six days' walk in Isindon. he covered lf>o miles. In that contest lie walked 1151 miles without rest, and 115 miles in twenty-four hours, withonlv eight<**n minutes ten seconds r*st. In April, 1*77, P'l/ arv beat him in Agricultural Hall. lyondon. tnnking nearly 590 miles to Weston's 510. Weston, after this, gave exhibition walks, and on one occasion h! tin* struc ture against tli* wind with hark, and left thi*other I'tul open. They thru drh*l their blanket*, mul made him a pallet in the tent the* liail construct)*!. ITtey woke up tin' old general. and witli ome j ditiieulty persuaded him to crawl in. \\ itll hi* saddle for a pillow, wrapped . up in the drv blanket*, mid hi* feet to ■ the tire, h- slept snugly and soundly all night, well ease.! in hiekory lark. The next tuorninf an old mmifrom the neifthliorhiMMl eame into ramp with a jug of whisky, with whieh, alter imbib ing quite freely himself h< gave the military narty "a treat "as far as the ii |Uor would so. He seemed to le a kind-h \"*ted ovial and patriotie oh! fel low—a sort of " privileged eharaeter " in liis eoun v. While staggering als>ut among the eaiuptires. full of futl mid whisky tie oumieted upon the little hickory hart, tent, which immediately rrvt*t liis attention. After eyeing it a moment, in* < viaitned, " What s k whieh lumbbai .town tbe queer- unking strueture. mid eompletely buried .he old hero in the hark. As lie -IrUggb*! out of the ruins and lookark and join u* in a drink." There was something so ludicrous in the wlijii i-ni that r.-sp.a-t lor hi* pr.**<*nce and rank could not restrain the merriment of the spectators. He v*ry good-humorrdly joined in laughing at the mishaps. As he rose up .utd shook the lark fnun him, he looked so tough and stern that they a'i gar.* bim a hearty " Hurrah for Old lliekoryO This was the hrs. time lie e\.-r beard tllese words, whieh were afterwmd shoutUgh against tin- man. wlo. walking up j to the s.-u k, threw it across his shoulder witli perfect case, although extremely , h.avy, and walked with it twice a. no lle- sion-. went quietly to a large liHk which was fastened to the wall. *nd ! hanging it up turned to the merchant ! , and said: "Then', now. it may hang tle-re till doomsday. I shall never lay it down. What -hall 1 go about, mister? .lust 1 give me p'entv to do. and #IOO per month, ami it s all right." The clerks broke Into a laugh, and the j merchant, discomfited yet satis thai, kept liis ngnx im-nt, and U-day the gns-n countryman is the senior partner in the j | firm, and is worth a million dollars. —— Advice to Hat her*. With a view of diminishing the loss of life which annually occurs fnun drown- j ing. the lloyal llumiun* Society of F.ng land issues the following seasonable ad vice to bather*: Avoid bathing within two hours after j a meal, or when exhausted by fatigue or , from any other cause, or wlo-n the IKMIV I is rooting after perspiration, and avoid i leitbing altogether in the open air if. af ter Ix-ing a short tinn* in the water,there | is a sense of chilliness, with numbness of tin- hands and feet, hut bathe when the body is warm, provided no time is lost in getting into the water. Avoid chilling the lMiy by sitting or standing trndress<*l on tin" bank* or in tin-boats, after having Iwen in tbe water. , or remaining too long in the water, but leave the water immediately if there is the slight.-st feeling of chilliness. The vigorous and strong may bathe ; early in the morning on an empty stom ach." but the young and those who are weak had better bathe two or three ! hours after a meal; the best time for such is from two to three hours after breakfast. Those who are subject to attacks of giddiness or faintness, and who sutler from palpitation and other sense of dis comfort at the heart, should not bathe without tirst consulting their medical adviser. Jeopardized by Jewel*. Cuius arc constantly occurring where the cupidity of thieves and murderers is aroused by the display of gems worn at improper times. The open assault of a. lady on Fifth avenue, when her soltaire diamond earring w*as torn from her ear. and the horror in Forty-seeond street are tin* latest instances. The prevailing ideas regarding the wearing of jewels in this country are in very bad taste. For eigners esteem them vulgar, and they are proven dangerous to the owners of valuable trinkets. The ambition of the girl of the period is to crowd her fingers with conspicuous rings, and the matron, possessing valuable diamonds, wears these all the time, either lieeause she has not nice instinct*, or, as is the general excuse, for the sake of knowing they are safe. Only American women wear diamonds with breakfast and street costumes. (Jems are only worn consist ently with dinner or full evening dress. The single-stoned diamond ring tla*hing over the golden band lias its significance, and may be worn constantly; but only j on certain occasions can a number of I costly rings be worn with propriety. The lesson of tbe hour proves that jewels ordinarily should be kept in asafe, which | precaution may frequently save human life.— Ntw York Commercial Adrer titer. Could Wr Lite iu (he I'olur Iteglonvf At t!>■ reception givrn by the Kan KrMidM'K Atwlnuy f Science* to the tin IIIIMTK of tin' Iti-nnHl riplm iitii cxpe (l it lon to tin' North I'ole, Mr. tnarl'-* Woh'ott ItriHik* dicu*ed the questions of tin - existence of mi Ai'< in continent, mill the pioluthiiilv of it* being inhah ited. If we carefully examine, said Mr Hrooks. the ailllost universal feature* of all laiul known to u, we till.l a prevail ing form wherever w< turn. Kadi terri torial area of uumiiituile m ini to have an appendage trending southward. If we apply till* rule, bjf turning the North I'ole of a globe toward us, we readily *e<* at a glance that (Ireciiliuid, which f* known to u, may In-ar to ,ui unknown Arctic continent the R.WIK- relation that South America doe* to North America, or Africa to Europe. 11ncr it i* per fectly logical to inf<-r. by the great anal ogv of nature, that an Arctic continent exist* beneath the North Pole, extend ing three mid a half to four degree south from the northern axis of the earth. A* previous Arctic expedition* have ad vanced W eighty-three degree* twenty. *ix minute* north latitude—or within XMNnilfft of the Pole—the distance thence to such a continent would not exceed alwiut lAOto IHO mile* This intervening space, however, is difficult to traverse, a* it presents a very rough surface If the sea. during the In-ight of a gale, when waves run mountaiiiß high, were in stantly fro sen, it would present much the appearance here encountered. For • thllulogist* the question i* Can an Arctic continent ne inhabited,should one exist? Till* may he met by the we.l-known fact that the latitude of Seventy-eight degrees i* al*>ut the jioilit ol lowest mean temperature. The earth i* aliout thirty-seven miles i-s* in diam eter at the equator than from pole to I Kile, having enlarged at on one point and flattened at mint her tieeause of it* revolving motion Now, it is well known that lower temperatures are en countered a* we ascend high altitudes, and the depression at the poles may. by lessening tliedi*tance of the surface troni the earth's -enter, afford a warmer tem perature. which wiil enable the hardy Esquimaux. Ainosor some Hyper 1> >rean rat* 1 to exist upon mi Arctic contin<*nt. Los* of Life on Steamboat*. The following is a comparative state uicnt of the numlier of lives lost in the United Stt*s from various causes on steamboats during the years ending June 30, I*7* mid lT 1(09. 1878. I'rwtu fires.... 1 21 From collisions 11 31 F ruin r i j 1 3 Collision* 3 18 Snag*, wrecks and sinking 8 A Accidental drowning...... 8 9 M tscellaneou* 5 4 Total 31 47 The almve comparison shows a rrduo lion ot marly tiny-one percent, in the number of !h<** ]o*t mid aliout thirty four per cent, iwduetion in the munis r of at . itlefit* causing loss of life. The in creased efficiency of the slcamlsiat in-' s|>ection service is better shown by the following comparative statement: In 1*76 the nun' 1 * !' of live* lost on steam boats wa* isC: in 1*76. 394; in 1*77. '124; in l*7>, 212 mid in 1*79. 105. llememlM-retl lint Twisted a Little. A letter from Newport, 11.1., tells thi* story: 1 know a lady who k's-ps a ißianling-house—a charming woman, always solicitous of the comfort of her lioui" hold, hut with ape uliarity. She " rcnp'iiiliers fa** - * hut not names." Now it PeV'-r matt<-red to me that Willi • very *ntp of coffee or tea sh<- gave me 1 was v< christened, tin the ••ontrary. I found it very entertaining. Hut this did distress her daughtr. All in vain *he .at* Ted with her mother, wlto smilingly went on in her own way in spile of her. lhit then* came a tini< and ornuion when her daughter set her heart njsin her mother's addn-sing a gi*ntleman stranger correctly, All through the day of the evening on whirl) he was c\jtectsl the daughter could I*' heard to say a* she followial her mother from room to mora. "Now. n memlier. his name is Mr. tV"c --i/ey*'" to whicli the mother in every in stance would reply. " Yes. dear. I am sure I know it. fhirdry The stranger took his sent at the table. That blessed woman, with a smile like an angel's and a self-txsweasion I have never s*'n sur nassisl, looked sweetly across the lxard and inquired. " Mr. />ry-eo?. do you take cream and sugar?" Bedstead Superstition. Having ordered a neatly constructed single bedstead, says- a correspondent in Germany. with somewhat high and orna mental sides. I was surprised when it was brought home to find that the orna mentation of one side of the Ix'dstoad was not repeated on the opposite side, it being, in fact, quite plain. I expressed my surprise and dissatisfaction to tlis* maker, saying that when a bedstead was placed with it- bead against the wall ol a room, the sides, then showing, will ap pear quite unlike —one ornament'*! and the other plain. At this the maker expressed hi* sur prise that I should lx- ignorant of a Her man custom and prejudice; "for." says lie. "in Germany single tiedstead* an' only placed sidew ays against a wall or partition; and only removed from this position, and placed with the head against the wall, to receive a dead laxly." And the worthy maker assured me that nowhere in Germany could a native be induced to sleep on a single bedstead which had not its side placed against a wall or partition. The same objection does not hold against placing two single bedsteads side by side, with their heads against a wall. A Young Lady'* Herni-m. San Diego. Cal., poss<-i-es a genuine heroine in n young lady named Mis- Marv l.twrvncr. Recently a herd of wilil cattle wen' being driven through t lie streets, when one of them singled out a child sit play and stnrtisl for it. The vnquero, who wan drunk, atumlded from Ilia horse as he attempted to turn the furious animal. At tliia moment Miss lAwrcnec came along, and, inking in the situation at a glance, sprang into the vacant saddle. ran down the wild steer, threw her shawl over his head just as lie was about to gore the child, and, taking advantage of the eonfuaion of the beast, rode up to the child, and, without leaving her saddle, reached to it and lifted it to IMT lap. and then carried it oft in safety. This was not only an net of heroism, but an exhibition of horseman ship sin It as few eould equal. That young lady deserves a medal, Iwith as an expert equestrienne and as a lady whose courage and presence of mind are only equaled by her skill as a rider. A company of Russian soldiers, woile t' ently on their way to Klisabethpol. weiehi-set with clouos of grasshopper* tlint liightened them more than the Turks ivi r did. At night they could not sleep: their guns, their uniforms and they themselves were covered with these insects, that crept into their mouths, noses and ears. The officers fled into the houses, but the plague of grasshoppers had previous possession. A region of fifteen miles was thicly cov ered with them and all the grain and grass were instantly destroyed. " Time makes all things right," except the disappointment a fellow feels when h* i left ny * train,— WhttHng Ltnd*r, TEHMB: S'-i.OO a Yoar, in Advance. A Clilnaman's (facer itnrlal. W ee-Ka-Vuug, a Chinese laundryman working in New York, died at a little I hincsc settlement near Newark, N. J , mid wa* buried there, The funeral took place alxtul live o'clock in the afternoon, the tifUs-u Celestials of the laundry, the H'-v. Mr Strong, of Ui* IteturmodCfiurrh in lteileville, in* undertaker, lite super intendent of the laundry, two or three other gentlemen mid live ladies lieing present. 'J'he visitor* were ushered into a room ott the mailt eltlralice of the Chinese quarter*. tlie wall* of which were hung with Chinese papers with strange devices, intersperse*! with SBch luottoe* a* "tlod i* love," "Pimply tu Thy Cross I Cling," etr, From the mi. ter ol tlic loom w a* *u*pe|lded a Chinese lanti-rn. The Iwnly waanot then visible, hut after waiting alaiut ten minutes it was carried into the hall and placed alxiut the center, and liie couipmiV were invited to walk out. In the bali were several Celestial* standing bear the coffin, where the body wa* seen clad in the ordinary habiliment* worn by tin* rip*'. Iter. Mr. Strong, standing mar the coffin, offered up a brief and lervent prayer, during which a repriwetitative of the Flowery Kingdom stood near scat tering tribute money—pieces of thin brown paper about four inches long with Chinese character* cut in litem Tin* prayer ended, the ta*ket wa* carried out by tour laboring un-u ami placed in an open wagon drawn by one horsr and covered w itii a blanket. A tin |uui con taining burning ints-nsc wa* niaissl iu the vehicle in mmt of the coffin. Fol lowing the wagon wa* a man carrying a large mm kit basket containing brown paper packtge* and a man carrying strip* of paper, "which he Strewed all the way to the grave, lb-hind hint cauie the rest of the Chinamen mul then the visit* or*. Not a word wa* said during the tuarcji to the grave, ami on reaching the piai-e of interment, whero there are already several o| tln-se people buried, the four liearer# lifted the collin from the wagon mid silently lowered it into the grave. Iter, Mr. strong then made a brief prayer, committing the hodx to it* last twing-place—"Earth to earth. ashes to ashes :unl dust to dust." The grave wa* then filled and mounded up, and when thi* wa* done a hole wa* made at thi- foot ami in it wa* placed mi earthen jar, the contents of which were car< fully com waled from the knowledge of the visitors. The man with the bas ket I-JUUC forward, and from it were taken nai kages coulaining candy, auu, etc., which were opened and their eon tent* poured over tlie jar. Thi* was all covered with '-arth, when a tin pan con *~ **l Uttle mrth. in which were tui k a white taper. a number of lighted incedM -vtick* which in burning gave out a fragrant odor, and also some peculiar red and while taper* were placed on top of the earth. Then a plate < untwining ileal. small birds, and a dressed chicken witli the head on and arranged in a sit ting position was n to be forgotten. While these were burning a Mongolian advanced to tlie grave, made a numls* of prostrations, hi* forehead tourhing the earth, and tiien tawired tea from a IK'WI upon the ground Tea wa* pouretl again on tlie earth, and all the Caesltals then mmle profound bows towartl the grave with their hand* outstretched and then turmai away, and thus the funeral service* were com lnded. Tlif i-ffivt* of the deo-ased, a* is usual with thoe jssij'le, were hurneil after tlie funeral. Ktrange Heath of a Dog. Jack, an intelligent and valuable Xew hiuottland dug, uwanl by Tboma* |*il- Hngton. ol Newark. N. .1 . m l bbdrath in a singular manner. He wan a hitter t nemy ol cats. ami he ha* l*cn known to spring ver an H(lit-fwtl fnrr after a feline that had tnnlaliwd him. When ever a< at convert was Ix-gun near lit* nuuliY'l ltoue Jack scattered the sere nailer* without ceremony, ami he wa> not only much prired by Mr. l'iliiugton. | but wa aiao a favorite with the neigh boi> who. thank* to hi* enmity to the eat erealion. etyoved peaceful slumber. Mr. I'iiiington look Jack to the house olafrirml. w here la-tied the dog to a piece of Wm>ul half way across one side extended a high table very much in the fashion of a bar counter in ati ml-class American saloon, except that the top ol it was covered with matting instead of being polished. Behind this, in the middle, sat the high priest of " Pantan." an enormously corpulent Chinaman, in a very capacious and comfortable arm chair. his legs lucked away beneath him and a " water" pipe at his elbow, from which ever and anon it* inhaled a whiff or two of the coarse ntbauuo generally in use among the natives, tie was the "dealer," and he bestowed a very friendly recognition upon our host sa we cnlervd. Neat to five dealer at the banker, a sharp-eyed and sharp-featured man. who had before hint a large box containing money, in hank-notes, gold and silver, and an "abacus" which Chinamen always use to assist tliem in calculating. Two or three other "solid" looking Celestials in long blue gowns also sat in a sort of re cess In-hind ttt* table, silently smoking and occasionally protruding a hand, adorned with very king linger nails, with which they aiU-red the position of certain small circular bits of jade on tb- table which represented the stakes of gam blers who were not present, out who still participated in the fortunes of the game, being quite content to trust the Ivonesly of the proprietors as to the winning or losing, lligbt in front of the dealer, and riveted to the table, was a piece of white metal about one foot square. This is the Tom Fiddler's ground upon which thegambiers try their luck. The four sides represent the numbers one, two. three and four—that neat to the dealer being number one and that neat to the players number lour. The game commences by the dealer taking a hand ful of bright new " cash" from a heap at his right hand, putting them in a separ ate heap at his left and covering them over with a little bras# rap. Then the player# put their stake# on the table on whichever side of the metal square it may please them. tine thousand dollar# is the limit in live Macao gambling houses, hut the smallest coin is not rejected, and it i# not an un freuuent oecurmt.-e to see the European or American " punter" risking a rid! of banknotes alongside a coolie who is stolidlv "hocking tlte tiger" with two or three " cash "at a time. Considering that one hundred " < ash ' equal only one cent, the passion for play, it will be s*cn. can be gratified a'. small cost. W hen all have staked the dealer removes the brass cover from the small pile of "caah." and withn ivory "chop-stick" proceeds to count the coin# out by four#, lie takes care to bare It is arm. anrough a dilapidated house? One cries (lirougb the sack and the other sigita through the crack. As well might the toad swell to an elephant, a sheep acquire the courage of a lion, or a tiger the harmlessm-n* of a iamb, as an insolent man to become bfarc, noble and dignified. To dream gloriously, you must act gloriously while yoU are awake; and to irring angels down to converse with you in your sleep, you must labor in the ■ auae of virtue during the day. The Czar of Russia orders that his isentinei* shall carry repeating rifles at the half cock; but he doe* not espect tJwm to go off that way —Pfmymm. The total amount of bullion In the Rank of England has reached the im mense sunt of g 175,000.000 —the largest amount on record—ao says tin? fxmdon 'A met. A I>r. Jackson offers the opinion that the refusal u> take proper physical r"*l when tired from labor is one of the most powerful induivmtents to the consump tion of ardent spirits. Atmospheric air is so heavy that ita weight upon the hodv is fifteen pounds to the square inch. People can under stand now why it is so hard to raise the wind. Wbsao'cr you feu at the uweqmjtu fa Us# twilight lovely and gmr. It folds up it* little anger. And gsnonUly gets away la spila Mut Use dying, but we do know that the living suffer pavin'. particularly if it pavin's tulwcriptton to s newspaper. Saturday Styht. Packages warranted u contain the means of sure death for potato * itliout poison, were sold si a fair in I litnois. Each contained two blocks of wood, on one of which was written. •• Place the bug on this block and smash him with the other." A great many marine disasters for this year have been reported, but of the number of (partner)ships that hare Men wrecked, of barks (of dogs) that have I Men lost, and schooners (of beer) that have gone down, no record has been kept. Walking matches between young ladies and gentlemen are getting to be quite common. You can see them any pleasant evening by going out along the bluff Any young couple who are en gaged are a walking match when they are out for a stroll, aren't they *—Keokuk (htlt City. A bridegroom at Grinnel. lowa, re ceived a cigar by mail, accompanied by the written assurance that it would be found to be of uncommonly good flavor. The bride recognised the hand writing aa Hint of a rejected suit sr. and unrolled 1 the cigar, to find several grains of strychnine in the end that a smoker would bite off. The widow Ik**, of Evansville, Ind. had a cuitor in the [*TWB of Matthew S iituiut 7.. and tb<-\ had made a marriage engagement. Although she waa only thirty-one year* oid. ah* had a daughter of six two. and wbca Schnautx am a the girl, on lirr return fnur bo*rding-soi, he transferred hi* kr3 to her. Th mother tlien committed suicide. The Ihmknrd Church forbid* a man to marry a divorced woman. George Hoover, of Hagerstown, ind., wa* a Hunkard. vet be married a woman who bid been divorced The Church warned him beforehand ami expelled him after ward. The expulsion grieved him to much that he refused to eat, and itarred himself to death, in spit* of hia wifa'a entreatiea. TM now within the liearea* O'nr valley will and mountain The kt<* are drapnd in porpln— The warm king oriflasnaiae. And now heaida the oceaa. The gnutU nmiewie ocean. The average voung mai tawv Lightly tame to thonghu ot ciame. - Vhf r*rt SUr A SilfMe't Ilarr Mr*. Josephine A. Coiton. who com mitted suicid- in Sew York because site had lf mind. God forgive you. William, if you drive me to my death, for you have 'much need to prav." On tlie next day. April 30th. she writes: "1 have answured an adver tisement by a lady who wishes a lady to share her rooms and do light Imusek* ep ing. She has been to see m> and 1 raher like her." She did not write intiiediary again until May the 11th, when she re fers again to her husband's infidelity. The last entry is dated June 23d. " 1 1 have not touched my book sines' May 11th. How many changes have b en since then. My life, the last year, has lieen one continnal round of sadness and 'ill-luck. 1 often wonder if my spirit ran rest after death. Oh! William, tuy husband, you luive wrecked my life, but I forgive you. If your conscience let* you rest I am satisfied." The lMnner-Horn. There are several ways of expressing the same sentiment, tor instance, By ron writes: "That nil-softening, overpowering knell, The tocsin of the soul—the dinner-bell." But the philosopher Killings, who uses had spelling to set forth good sense, thus speaks of the bell's rival: The dirtner-lrorn is the oldest and most sakred horn thare ix. It iz set tew musik, and plays " Home, Sweet-Home" about noon. It has bin listened tew with more rapturous delite than ever any hand liaz. Yu kan hear it,further than yu kan one or Rodman's guns. It will arrest a man and bring him in quicker than a sheriff's warrant. It kan out-fi>ot enny other noize. It kauzes the deaf tew hear, and the dum tew shout for joy. Glorious old instrument J long may yur*> lungs last!