Her King. Bh* haii not found her king u yet. The f.Milan days glide hy. They bring no sorrow* to forget. Nor any cause to *igh. No heart tor her devotion made The passionate *ttramers bright; Unharmed he walk*, and nnafrraye>l She haa not found her king. Men bring their titled, and their gold ; She turn* in xcorn away. The man must be of different mould She aweara she will obey. Though |ioor in honor* and in land*. Rich in a rarer thing. Titled by thai alone, he atanda. Whom aho will own her king ' Rut wlian he eomea. aa eorae he wil, Strong to support ami grand, With application that shall fill Her aoul, like a command, She'll place her hand in hi*. an.l take W hatc'er thu world may hrint. Proud and contented tor hi* aake. Whom she hath crowned her king ' Hamilton drif, ii Ttmpir Bat The Dignity of Labor. Those who toil to urn their bread Need not blush to own thai r lot; Die, hi uohlr footstep* treed. And a claim to live have gv' Toil is nol the wage ol siu, For in Kden work was given, Man was made to work and win Sjsiil ol'earth and hi.** of heaven. He ho at the asivil stands. Striking while tlie iron glow* Diongh he work* w uh horny hands, Notify strike# th# ringing blows. At the loom, and in the field. Ia the shop, and on the soli. Where men wisely power wield. T here is dignity in toil. tie win) works with throbbing brain Thinks to teach men how to live, Writes, that others good may gain. Speak*, to truth freali test to give. He can chum the manly right With the sons ol toil to stand. He asserts lis mental might. Helps to hfoss hia native land. He who lives a life of case. Idly wasting all his days— Aiming only self to please. Killed wih pride and courting praise. Call him not a noble man. Such existence is a shame; And when ends life's blank span. Soon will die his empty name. labor brings reward ami rest. Educates the latent powers. And he serves his age the best Who employs his golden hours , Working not beyond his might, Toding not against his will. And beneath his master's sight txiad his mission to tulAl. All things labor lor our (vast. He who made us never sleeia; lie ho tills the ground for tood. For his ;am a harvest rvwps. None who work neei teel ashamed, As they do what goo ! they cau; an honor to be named, As we toe. " A wnrkiiigtuan ' EUSTACE CARROLL'S SKETCH I'K ACTIO XL AIMONtTKN Tv> lI.MPLK ANCE. 'Shant go a step further?" "Only ju.t a little way—we shall soon home now, ami mother's waiting." " i don't care. I've made up my mind that I've walked too far already, and I'm goingto sit down and rest; they must wait, and 1 shall do as I choose." " But father—" " Now don't you talk to me about ' huts.' C harlie, b cause I wA't have it. I shall sit down here, and you can go alii tell your mother not to wait—not to wait." tin- nvoi repeated, rni: ing his voice with :h" stuoid anger of intoxication. Sti'., iti spit< of threat and refusal, the p' iai per-ist.-d in pleading that his father should go home : but his words only stained to strengthen the man's obstt n y. and a,, the bo> could do was to get h - father to turn aside drum tlie high r S into a ;i id close by. where the man threw hints-if full length on the grass, soiucvrhat under tlo sonde of the hedge, and in a lew minutes he was sleeping heavily, whilst the child sat down at a iiule distance, with a strange kind of uiichiidish patienee on his features, to wait until h father should wake Poor little Charlie ! he knew too well how useless any attempt on his part would Ih to rouse his father from that sort of sleep. Rather more than hail an hour had i" this dreary waiting, and Charlie was beginning to lind all his small sources of amusement fail him. He had watched a largo bee that kept hovering over the convolvulus hlo*sonis in the kedeo. and. wondeml it he had noi neariy finished his day's work, had placed a snail out of harm's way. and Jad been tempted to chase a beautiful painted butt<-rtly that flitted past hiui> Iut he began at last to lose his interest in bee® and butterflies, for it was now u-a time, and Charlie was growing ter ribly hungry. Still he did rot think of i! nis post, for no one but the child himself knew how often he had kept his tipsy father off the country road when carts or carriages were coming a.ong, nor bow he had managed to guide Liin in safety over the narrow bridge that led across the river to their cottage. S* Charley sat there quietly, though lie was growing more tired" and hungry every moment, until the sound of a whistle at a little distance attracted his attention, the sound gradually coming nearer and sounding more distinct, until a young man jumped over the stile at the end of the field and approached the child, who then knew him to he a gen tleman he had often met during the last few weeks, sometimes sketching, some, tirres wand* ring afiout with his knap sack n his ia<-k and his portfolio un der his arm. Indeed a kind of half ac quaintance had sprung up between the young artist and Charlie—one attracted by the glimpses he had caught of the pictures contained in the wonderful portfolio, the other by the child's wist ful glances and his rustic beauty. Busy with his own thoughts.and judging from his happy face they were very pleasant pnk lien', do you know what this is'" Charlie glanced at the little picture Eustace held out to him. and then he gave a scream of surprise. " Why. it's me and father!" Atnl so it was, anil even though Eus tace should live to bo an old man. he will never succeed in making anything mote true to nature than that hurried sketch. He had hist caught the lirxtl, wistful look i>n the child s face, :utd it was ail the more striking as it was brought into such contra.-! with the va cant countenance of the tipsy sleeper, who liKiketl so thoroughly out of place lieside the child and the pleasant green background of the hedge, where the con volvulus blossoms mingitsi with the wild roses and blackberry flowers. " Wait a moment," said Eustace, and then he wrote at the bottom oft he sketch three lines from a jHcni of Burns: Oh wa.l lotus power the gitlie gie u# To see oursels as it her* see -a*. It wad tree utotiy a trouble tree us " "There." he ia>ntinuel. putting the picture in the child's hands. " You shall have that, and if you like to show it to your father one of these'day s. do so; it may teach him a lesson." And before the child could make any reply. Eustaee was off and away, tramping along the high road. Five years had passed In'fore the young artist had the time and chance to visit the quiet village again. In those five years he had done good work—had thought, and worked, and painted, until people liegun to believe in him and talked of him as one of the most prom ising painters of the day. Still, in the midst of it ail, he often re membered his little sketch and won dered—without much hope in tlie Won der. though—whether his idea that i; might do good had come to pass; and on the day he traveled down to Merston the memory of the scene came cleariv before him with the thought of the grand old words: "Cast thy bread u;.o:i the waters, for thou shall find it after many days." "Such a poor little crumb of good, though it was," said Eustace to himself, "still I wonderyl wonder—and I'll try to find it out. too." And so it happened, Eustace did find it out more quickly than lie expect<-d, fortliat very evening as he was return ing front a walk, in the course of which he had visited some of his old haunt.-, there passed him on the road a man and a handsome hoy of thirteen. " My little friend and hi* father." sud denly thought Eustaee. whose quick arti-t eye seldom forgot a fa e or figure, and he quickened his pace in order to keep within a short distance of the boy. So the three went on. past the corner of the field where the sketch had been taken, down the road ami across the narrow bridge, till the man and boy reached a little cottage, the small front garden of which was gay with bright color. d. old-fasltioned flowers. "That looks promising," thought Eu stace; "no drunkard ever had a garden like tiiat:" and determined to ascertain the facts of the case, he went up to the door with the intention of asking the nearest way to the next village. Through the open door he caught a glimpse of the neatly-kept cottage kitchen. a* Cliariie came forward to an swer th" stringer's question; hut before liaif tin right turn- had been d'-scrib'-d, a bright smile broke over the bov's face and, half turning around, he exclaimed : " Father, it is my painter!" and to his surprise. Eustace found that in that hous-hoid,at least, he was a hero, and the young artist never felt more rever ence for bis art than lie did as lie lis tenisl to the account of the good his pic tur had done. For some time Charlie had kept the sketch and had been afraid to show it to his father, hut the man found it by ;lianceone Hay, and— "lt was more than I could stand, sir." he said, addressing Eustace. " 1 did not need any one to teli nte what it meant, hut although I wondered where it came from I was ashamed to a*k. Somehow I could not get tlie picture out of my head. I even used to dream of it at night until it fairly worried m<. so that I gave up the drink; and I had the picture hung up there, that I might not nave a chance of forgetting what I dragged myself down to once. So the story ended, and in his heart Eustace Carroll is prouder of that little sketch, hanging in a common black frame orer the mantelpiece of the coun try cottage, than lie w-ould 1m- if he should paint a picture that would ntake his natue famous throughout his life.— fhtUttrbox. The Population of New York Pity An erroneous impression seems to prevail in regard to the foreign popula tion of New York city. It k commonly spoken of as a city substantially foreign, and many well-informed persons think the foreign population exceeds the na tive, but this, it seems, is not true. The native population exceeds the foreign by fully 125.000 The common belief is that in New York city there are 400,000 Irish. 200,0n0 Hermans, 25.000 French, and 15,000 Italians, Spaniards, and Cu bans; but this is an exaggeration. The censusof I*7o put the foreign population of the city as follows: Irish. 201,990; English. 21,442; Scotch, 7.562; (It ••nans, 151,216; French. 8,265; Italians, 2.795; Austrians. 2.737; Poles. 2.393; Swiss, 2.178; Hollanders, 1.237; Russians, 1,151. This makes a total of 405,974, a large number of foreigners, but not so large by 20,000 as is generally supposed. In I*7o there were 13,702 colored persons in New York eity, and there is no doubt but that this numiier lias largely in creased since tl.atHime. The Chinese, too, have added to their number very largely. In 1870 there were only twelve in the city, and now the numlier is esti mated at 1,000. The excess of women over men at the last census was 28,000, and it is believed the disproportion will still be greater at the next cf nsus. The census next year will show a large in crease of population, as several subur ban towns have been taken within the corporate limits since 1870, besides the natural increase that has taken place. Sea-Water Gargle In Chronic Catarrh, Professor Mosier, of Greifswald, says, in the Berlin Klinischc Workewhrift, that he lias for some years most success fully treated patients with chronic catarrh of the throat by garglinc with sea-water .Special rooms for gargling have beet, erected on the seashore in some of the watering-places, according to his directions. It is, hoVever, es sential that the patients should be given special directions how to gargle. As the affection is generally located in the nasopharyngeal space, it is necessary f hat the part of the water should come in contact with the nasal cavity. In order k) attain this, the gargling move ment must be combined with move ments of deglutition. A marked im provement in the state of the patient follows as soon as the latter has acquired this particular art of gargling. THE CENTRE REPORTER. Thank-git lug Day. We have few holidays liere in Ameriea. People take more or Ims pride in the idea that " we are tint busy tor pleasure." It smacks of business and tlirift and enterprise and American " push." And we as a people are a busy people- some of us too l>u> to play and too busy to pray; our working hours i are spent in the restless rush for the goldeu goal, our sleep is disturbed by dreams of money-making; we have one grand motive iu remaining here on ; earth and to that one idea we devote all our strength of l>odv and mind, ail our energies and too much of our affeetiotis. Would it not he better for us to hall by the wayside oft tier, and hy the light of tlie past map out a better and wider : eourse for the future' A path that would mot< frequently turn into the pleasanter I fields ofcharity, gtHd-will and love for our fellow men? Thanksgiving has long lieen the one great holiday of lite year in New England, although Christmas now disputes its claim to pre-eminence. The day dates back to the time of the Puri tans, and in the sot! where they first planted the tree its roots have taken a firmer root titan in any of the sections to which it has been trangplanted. The first I hanksgiv ing in this country of which we have a record h-ars date US9I, the year after the landing of the Mayflower colony, when Coventor Hmdford "sent four no n out fowling tiiat they might after a more special manner rejoice together" for the !ir*t , harvest iu the new world. Some writers trace the origin of the day hack . to the Hebrew Feast of the Tabernacles, but it. is scarcely necessary to-day to go further back than our own colonial days Two years later, in duly. 1693, a day of tasting and prayer was appointed to pray for rain. The drought bad been a protracted one, hut while tlie people were praying rain Ix-gan to fail abun dantly. This special answer to prayer has not. we believe, lieen referred to by those to whom Tyudall recommended his prayer guage, but so rejoiced were the colonists thai, a day of thanksgiving w:is iiumedialeiy appointed by the gov ernor. which was signalized tiy religious services. Tlie next Thanksgiving day of which we turn record was in 1831. In June of the following year, rnor Winihrop, of Massachusetts, invited the Plymouth colony to join in giving thank* for specially favorable action of the British government. Again, in 1833. 1831, 1837. 1638 and 183U we are told Thanksgiving services were he! 1 in Mastutehusetts. and in Plymouth in 1889 and 1690. In the latter period it would seem the custom had been an an nua, one. At this lime thanks were invoktsi for some special favor, but gradually the day became an annual time for prayerful recognition of Divine care evidenced in the bountiful harvests and general blessings. In the New Netherlands the Duteh governors appointed Thanksgiving days in IM4. 1645. 1655 and It'eVi, and tiie English governors of New York in 1755 and 1780. Annual Thanksgiving days wer ■ held during the Revolutionary war. ind in 17t there was a Thanksgiving for peace. Not until five year* later was there another, and this was ordered hy President Washington upon sp,s ial r> - commetKiation of Congress fortheadop tion of the I 'institution. Washington i--ued a second proclamation in 1795, ' after the suppression of tjn* whiskey in surrection (Shay's rebellion) in Penn sylvania. Thus was celebrated the breaking up of tlie first whiskey ring of which wt have record. A Thanksgiv ing was ordered bv President Madison in 1615. During this time the day was annually observed in Xew England, a day leing set apart hy thecivil authori ties. Tlie re.igious bodies gradually grew to recommend the day in various parts of the country, and since IS|7, the governor of New York has regularly ordered its observance. Tlie custom -pread slowly in the Southern States. In 1655 it was observed in Virginia, and in 1856 in eight of the Southern States. Special thanksgivings were held in 18691 and 1863 by pro, \am at ion of President Lincoln, for victories by the Union armies, and since that time the Pr<**i dents have issued annual proclamations, and custom has fixed tne day for the last Thursday in November. — Arte York oy. Other sticks were piled over tli" body, and the whole set on lire amid the wails and superstitious incantations of hired mourners. In about an hour the body was con sumed. After the lire had cooled down, the ashes were carefully gathered up. and placed in a basket until a suitable box could be carved for their perma nent preservation. When all was ready, an old Indian woman, bowed down with age and infirmities, took up tin* Imsket and start'sl frr a pine tree which find previously been selected for the purpose. She was followed by the mourners ann friends with bowed heads and loud wails of sorrow. At the base of the tree two poles, about eight feet high, were driven into the ground two feet apart. Tlte basket containing the ashes was tied between poles, and a muslin bag. like a large pillow-slip, pulled down over the poles anil basket and closed at the bottom. On tli out side of the sheet is sometimes rudely painted a face, through which the spirit of the departed j., supposed to look out upon the bay. Morning and evening the parents of the hoy come out from their hut, and turning their faces to the north utter loud cries of distress. And this will lie kept up for months, for they have never heard oft fie great Comforter, who alone enn comfort -orrowing hearts. Those whose bodies are burned arc supposed to la- warm in the next World, ami the others cold. They believe in the trans migration of sou's from one body to another, but not to nnimals. And the wish is often expressed that in the next change they may lie iwirn into this or that powerful family. The funeral ceremonies of chiefs often last four days. If slaves are then sacrificed it relieves their owners from work in tlie next world. Dead slaves are often east into the sea. At the funeral of chiefs, the traditions and history of the tribe nre rchenrsed. If these ceremonies are not conducted properly the water of death swallows up the departed soul, or it is lost in the forests. But. if conducted properly, the chief of the gods speaks the word, and the water of death is small, and the soul is carried to a place of rest, or forgetfulness. Then after a longtime it comes back to some descend ant on its sister's side and lives another life. To such superstitions these people are bound, body and soul, and to rescue them from this, ameliorating and ele vating their condition in this life, and presenting to them a glorious immor tality through the crucified and risen Savior, is the work of the board of houje missions. Chinese maxim: Man cannot become perfect in a hundred years; he can be come corrupt in less than a day. CENTRE HALL, CENTRE CO., PA. THURSDAY, NOV EM HER 27, 18711. Brother l'oggles isaphUaiitmpist. liut is also a practical man. lie la always ready to aaaist the deset \ ing. but detests tramps. Consequently he was not favor ably iutpressed by the appearance of a seedy - looking man vx ho < abed upon liiui tfie other day, whose hands had e\ i dently not lieen soiled l>> labor.hut who earnestly protested that lie wanted to find work hy whirh he might support himself and his interesting family ol two wives and several children. "Are you sure," asked Brother Bog gles. a-s he looked suspiciously at thcap plicant, " tiiat if you should find tie work you are looking for, \ou woUid neither run awav from it nor go to so t p hy the side of it ?" " I tell you. sir. that am a worker; and I never neglect my business when I can find anything to do. The last job I had 1 worked at so hard.sir, that 1 was actually taken down, r. and had to be confined, sir, - "To your bxl—hey? Boor fellow'" eiaculatid Boggles. "Uotilined, sir, as I said, for a >otig lime; ami it is only two wicks since I got <>ut. During that time I have con stantly sought employment; hut every avenue seems to be nosed against inc. 1 have trnm|M-d tlie streets of this city day and night booking a uh. but have found nothing that I could turn my hand to, whi!'- niv wives and children are hungry for sealskin a acq u-* and veloeipctYr*; but 1 can do do nothing for thetu, because I have not even enough to drink!" The PI K>R fcl.ow IHIWIHI hi* intellectual lirad utHiu his delicate luuidi and sobbed: " This is a *ad case," mut fVfn a two-spot dealt to him in t great game of human progr-.s. In ait this large city he can lin-nl glaciers near Fort Wrange!, Alaska. Standing at the mouth of the tiord, lie says, the water foreground is of a pale, milky lilue color, trom the suspt ndetl rock-mud I issuing from beneath the grinding gla cier—one smooth sheet sweeping hack lire or si\ miles, like one of the !<>wer readies of a gl'iat river. At the head the water i hounded by a lvrriui t together" in a general, varied way into walls, like those of Yoseiuite \ alley, ex tending Iwyomi the other, whih their bases arc buried in the glacier. This i. in fact a Yosemite va.i-y in proems of formation, the imMleliing and sculpture if the walls nearly completed and w 1 planted. hut no groves as yet. ot gardens, ir memiows on the raw and utitinislu*d bottom. The whole front and brow of I this majestic glacier sir gashed and sculptured into •• mare of yawning •hasins and crevasse*, and a bewildering variety ol strange architectural forms, appalling to the strongest nerves, but novel and beautiful beyond measure— ■lusters ot glittering lamso-tipped spires, gables and obelisks, hold outstanding bastions and plain mural cliffs. adorned ■ long the top with fretted cornice and •ott-eim nts. while every gorge and en v.asse. chasm and hoi low was tilled with • igllt. Along the sides we could See the nighty lliKhl grinding against the gran ite with tremendous pressure, rounding tfie oiitswelling 1 losses. deejM ning anil smoothing the retreating hollows, and shaping every portion of the mountain walls into the forms they were meant to lave, when in the fullm-xs of appointed •.iine the ire-tool should lie lifted and set iside hi the sun. Bark two or tlins miles from the front the cutreat is now probably about l.dllff feet deep; hut when we examine the wails, the grooved and .ounded featun s. so surely glacial, show , *.liat in the earlier days of the ice age . - .tey were all overs wept, this glacier taving flowed at a height of from three vo four thousand feci above its present evel. Hie Wonderful Farmer int. Ito 11 up your sleeves now, hoys, take a very long breath, and then sre if you can jump over these two words —"Po- go-no-myr-mex Bar-ha-tus" —for this Item is going to teil nliout the I'o-go m-myr-mex Bar-ba-tus. Indeed, the I*. B. is no more nor less than the farinei ant of Texas, or an ant that is about as big as your father's thumb nail. The Iter. Mr. 11. C. MeCook, of this city, has written a hook about this ant. hut wliat follows is taken front an account printed by Mr. Hale, of < 'hieago, who went to Texas just to see the ants, some weeks ago. 'i he farmer ants have a million cities in Texas. They build a eitv under ground with streets, houses and public halls. The city is entered by two gates on the surface of the ground. Around these gates lie their farms or plantations. They cut down all the grass except certain kinds— which bear the seed they live on—and so make a " clearing," just as a farmer does when he cuts down trees. The jaw of the mayor ant . or l*st worker, is as sharp as a knife, and with the help ol minor ant, or lxy worker, a farm eight feet square is cut. The queen ant does nothing hut attend to the children. The male ant. or drone, is the lazybones, and struts around the street comers. Thus there are four kinds of ants in every family. They have regular roads through tiie farms. The roads are two ineiies wide. They have granaries, and when the seeds are ripe till the gran aries with seed for use in cold wcathei They are great fighters, and a dozen can soon kill a wasp. .They clean them selves after eating, taking good care of the sick, and carefully bury their dead. It is not certain whether they have schools or not. hut it is likely that they do. — lltihulclvhia Titne*. Chips. Thare haz been menny a hero Ixirn lived, and died unknown, just for the want ov an opportunity. Thare ain't nothing that will slio the virtews and vices ova man, in so vivid a light, asproluse prosperity. Mi dear boy. allwuss keep sumthing !in reserve. The man who kan jump six i inches further than he evei* haz juiupt, ! iz a hard customer to beat. I Most wiinmin would like to have their husbands lions—hut well broke to their 1 halter. Thare ain't nothing on arlh that will take th<> starch so klean out ov us. ax to git kaugiit hi the phellow we are trie ing to ketch. It Is a good deal ova bore to have others luv us more than we luv them —Josh Billings. " Shooting the moon" is a oh ruse ap plied in England to the act of skipping a boarding-house without paying the laudlady. Looking for n Job. A Mad MolTs Ravages. Alniut? a u., the peasant* from the ; adjoining villages had collected at u fair witieh Mas lie.il at the iH-ltieiuriit of Barvenkoff. district of humf, and the male portion of the assembly had dis persed to the drinking shop* to make iwvrg'iin* ami drink each other's health#, leaving the women ami children in ; eharge id the earls. Suddeuly llierr re sounded through the square a heart tending shriek lor assistance, ami then ail was quiet. The peasant* rushed out of the drinking Itootli* into the street, and before they had time to collect their thoughts there appeared from la-hind a building sit tinted on t lie edge of the square an enormous wolf. Everyianly rushed in ! great confusion to their carts, shouting, "Mail wolf!" Meantime the gigantic wolf frothing at the mouth ami witlt hi* tongUi liatigtlig out, made for the carts. A dreadful tuiiiua occurred. The horses utd oxen dashed in all directions, but the majority, getting entangled, fell, i overturning the carta, while the noise made by til* pigs, sheep, geese, fowls, ■•te., added to t e uproar ami confusion. The wolf when witliin a short distance j of the first group of carts turned round, sprang on to a woman who was running past, and in a moment she was prostrate ion tlie ground, having lost tier nose, | scalp and lower part of her far*' The wolf than ran further and attacked n small lad of almut seven years of age. but lUst al that time a pig rushed at the ! wolf and bit its tail. The wolf turned on his assailant, but not before it bad bitten tlte boy's face and hand. Leaving the pig, the wolf ran down the main -ms t,and attacked awotuan with ahaby. then two boys atmut four years of age, and having bitten tin ir In ml* through to the brain, rush i up tin- street, and alter biting several other persons, turned off on to the railroad. By this time a large crowd, headed by the village elder, and .truml with whips, scythes, etc.. gave ' .-base to the terrible animal. They came up with the wolf alsiut one mile from tlie village, and a peasant, allowing it to approach him williin about fifteen paint, shot the animal straight in itaopen utaw Notliwitiistandinr the wound he had received, tiie wolf sprang up and at lat ktd the peasant. I'he latter tiJ not lose his presence of mind, and struck the animal with tlie butt-md of l.is gun. which aliatt' red at the blow, and the wolf selred the peasant by tin side, but ..wing to the man wearing three eoat.s i hi* skin was only scratched. The cour ageous man then flmtlv griptsai tlie ani mal with both hands. During this struggle Iwtween a man and a mad wolf Ihi crowd which had come up hcsilatv-d through far to attempt the rescue of their i oiurade. Fortunately a local policeman gnUojx-d up at this juncture, and drawing lii* revolver shot the wolf i through the bead. The wolf had bitten no less than twenty-two persons, ten of whom arc 'n a dangerous state. Tb -ufferer- were isolated front the rent of , the inhabitants and no dical aid was at once admtnisfi rs-d to llictn. It is r fK>rt • tin- wolf came from the sett h-ntent of lKivgmikoff (situate atmut eighteen miles from Barvenkoff). wheten mad ox liail di-l and had l-cn burit. but so eareh-ss'y that on the following tt orn ing hi# l*lv was found scattered nlaiut. tt. ftUrfi'tiry iiaiot. lakittg the Children Home. At Uie Union depot yesterday fore noon wa* an old, gray-headed man it. j charge of three children—two laiys and agiri. The oldest *.v about ten and the little girl almut five. The whole party won dressed very plainly. nnl as to who they wcr>* lie old tuanexplained • tw any of the boys to clinih uie. if I up ward of sixty. I'm going to take 'em down home and bring em up. and it their fattier ever coon-* witliin a mile of u* I'm going to pi. k hint right up and break hi* back acr<>* a-tone wall'" Atniut ten mintib * before the train left the old man called tli* eldest hoy to his knee and said "Now, voting man, **" here' I'm your grandfather and I'm Inking vou young 'uns home to Norwula. We'll get there with nhout seven cent* to spare, if no a.rident happens. Now, then, when the boy on the train comes around with chestnut* or apple* or candy. 1 want you to look straight out ol the window!" "Why can't you buy wane for me'" asked the boy. "Come over my knee!" exclaimed the grandfather, a* lie battled tlie foy nearer. " Now, sir. do you want chest nuts?" "I—l--I want souie, hut I'll wail till next year!" gasped the boy. as he felt the spanking-machine making ready for business. "Wry well. Yoti look straight out of the window at corn and pumpkins every time you hear the train-boy yeil 'chestnuts'' Here, Alonzo—you come up here Alonzo was the second boy. W hen he was within reaching distance the grandfather grald>ed him and saiii: " When the train-boy comes along with apples and candy nnd hickory-nut meats, what are you going to do?" "I'm going to ask you to buy me a whole lot!" "You arc, ch? Come over my knee "Oh! no I won't—l won't—l won't!" shouted the IKV as LIE danced up and down and hting back. " Very widi—you ace that you don't! Now. my little girl, I want to nay—" "Oh! grandpa. you needn't say a single word to me!" she 'interrupted. " I just liate the sight of chestnuts anil cand v. and just as soon as we (jet on the cars I'm going right to sleep, and never wake up once!" If the train-hoy tackled that family he didn't make a cent.— Prtrfil /We /Vc.w. The Remaining l'nblle Ijtnris. The iand area of the I'idled States is 3,.'Ho,"rtH square miles, or il 1 491,3.W.530 acres. If you add the water surface ot the great lakes and rivers the total area of the I'nited States is 6ver 4.000.000 square miles. The public lands iu the different States and Territories, leaving out—l x'eausc they never 4iad any—the thirteen original States and the ad mitted States of Vermont. Kentucky, Tcnni*ss< 4 Maine, Texas and \\ est Vir ginia and the District of Columbia, amounted originally to 1.014,769,910 acres, or considerably more than two thirds of the entire landed territory of the I'nited States. Of tills there had hern, up to lO7H, surveyed 714,572,737 acres, leaving unsurvoyed 1,101,197,1H3 acres. None of the unsurvoyed land had l>een sold, and a great deal of lite surveyed had not been. It is estimated that the unsold public lands of the United States amount to alwtit 1.300.- 000.000 acres. than half of the lands disposed of were sold for cash or donated in small lots to actual settlers under the homestead or pre-emption acts. The remainder, aggregating up ward of 250,000,000 acres, were donated to railroads, other improvements, to Slates for agricultural colleges, etc. The surface of unsold public lands exceed in area by over 1,100,000 miles all Europe outside of Russia. THE CANE OF Ml** Jl l>o. Il.i Uxatrri 1 11 ml, lt.iUi.ll l l l> !• I*rar*r. The t • • *P -l.inr.l tllnrl.tl.al ha. (rMUd .th a Ullr In M aalvru K.w l'aih. A letter from Buffalo. N. Y.. to the x'ew York Sun. give* the following par ticulars of t strange cane : Our w llw moat marvellous cases of restoration to health has U-i'ii made public iu this fit). \li** Carrie K, Jtuld, eldest daughter of Mr. CI. K. .fudd. of Connecticut street, tliiti city, is the prrutu who has Ins-it |< urrf nearly twenty-ofte years of age, ar.d subst an tinted by her father ami Mrs. Ilainhleton. Iter nurse, i* a* lollows ■ For some time prior to January. 1*77, Mil* Juud fell illlo a decline. On the -ixth o! January.ltC7.ulte was prttstrated ! Ity a violent attack of nervous levtr, having its origin, it watt conjectured, in the spine, which ltae bare, and the slightest noise or jar in the room made litem vibrate The nain h her head was acute an>l the aching of 1 tfie eyelids was so intense that for flours site could not open them. She had to lie kept in a darkened room, for a ray of light could not Is- withstood, sensi tive bad lor etc tls come. Her bearing was unnaturally acute, and great care had to Is- taken to prevent rude sounds from falling upon her sensitive nerve*. So person wrnj permitted to lie in the risitn except the nurse and oilier ment is r of the family whose attentions were bsoluleiy neci ssarv. This state of tilings continued until Miss Judd became so weak that she could not evt n turn in bed or move bi-r --etf in any w a>. For over eleven months the w as unable to sit up n single moment. During nil that time she was under the care of Dr. lloksie, one of the mo-t pop ular homeopathic practitioners in the city. After the eleven months of strug gling almost Is l ween life and deal It site Is-gan to improve, and in tin- following summer wa* able help herself, and in Ic ing taken from 'ter b'-d the attendants hat to place their hand* under Iter arms, for she could not boar any pressure witatevif upon Iter body. At the time when she was gain ing very slowly the weather was very hot. which, in addition to the great effort she made to help herself, threw her into a relapse, and she again grew worse. This violent renewal of the oid Uouble continucd nil that fall and winter until ■ ast spring, when site was so far reduced tiiat she could hard'y whisper. During all these weary monUts aii i th; t the Inrenuity of the lw*t physicians could di-vii- was done for the patient , little sufferer, but nil to no av.c. Dr. Davis, a well-known phvsieati.of Attica, tried hi- skill, but failed. Dr. lbo-llng. , of this i ity. aiso treated lite case with a like rult. Tint, Dr. Dm See On. a Chinese physician, ed.icat.ai in I,its own country, was called. He is a giAed fel kw. and totaled the case-, but wa* unable to do .ny good. Alsiut sl,llOO it ad lrn paid >ut by Mr. Judd; j the daughter was slowly failing, and they were aimost discouraged. Sue got so weak that she could only more h-r j lip*. Alstut thi* time Mr. Judd read a para graidt in the Buftalo I'mtrwi, copied j from the Springfield JlrpuMunn, in which a colored woman. Mr*. Edward Mix. of Woh-ottviiie. i Vtnn.. was cred ited witli having effected some wonder- j fui cure* ty power of faith aud prayer t alone. Mr. Judd managed to make the pa- ' lieot understand, and hy hernsqoesl hrae's head, and witlt his di*<-tigaguched there is no mistaking it, a* the Iron-e elevates his feet in a manner something after the style of the lt>*s danseuse. In most canes the dt-fertive tooth is lound at Uie bides of llis jaw, when the slmrn point* liave lacerated the flesh. A flle must tlnti be inserted aiwl the poiuu filed down, and in a short time the ani mal feels relieved. But this is not actual toothache Tli<- gradual gn>wing of the moiais and tin- sharpen! tig of the edge. however, lends to it How can I teli when the loirs" has toothache' Why. it's easy enough; vou mn toll in the manner in wni< It he hold* his head. When a liorwe is affe.tcd it goes almut witlt the head down and tlie lowerlip dnsping. and if the rein is pallet! sharply the creature Is ready to jump and prance. Then again the ey* are ftrrtl, and if the horse i* compelled to hack by th<- pressure of lite rein on his tetah the agony is terrible, and the at tention of tin* driver is thus attracted * "Wlu-n the teeth are badly de<-axed. arc they drawn f" "Smietimes. but a* a rule tiny are cauterised." " I* filling much in use?" "No; iits impossible, almost, to do the job succes-fully. NY ads of hay or other matter an* frqtiently plaod in the cavities, but nothing more, and it t only done to k-cp out the '-old water.' 1 " What Instrument is u*d in cutting down tlie teeth " A siuruiarly sltapeil instrumetit call td a slide U employed, and after the too tli i cut it i* filed down. When tooth has to he dtawn a strung pair of fors at* employed." " How do lite horses stand the opera tion'" " Well, without much truubk; when a good hold is olitaincd on the tooth a slight twist is given to loosen it. and then when a ten w twelve pound prc *ur- is obtained the tooth is drawn out by force." *' This oor-asions a great loss of blood, doe* it not ?" "On tlie contrary, after the firt few hours bleeding ceases; but 1 have known hono* to hleei to death from having a toothextractrd." "Ito you use an:rUiecn4ed. She might aiso die hy accident, through col lision with some celestial body meet ing her on her route; but tliiostdnf the world is the mot improbable of all. Site inay. we repeat, die a natural detail through the slow absorption of her vital elements. In fact, it is proli nhle that the air and water arr diminish ing. The ocean. like the atmosphere, appears to have lieen formerly much more considerable than it is In our day. The terrestrial erusl is penetrated by waters which combine chemically with the rock>. It i* almost certain lltat the temperature of the interior of the globe reaches tiiat of lsiiling water at a depth of nhont six miles, and prevents tiie water from desrs tiding any lower; hut the absorption will eontinuewith theeoolinr of tip globe. The oxygen, nitrogen and carbonic acid which contpsc our atmo sphere also appear to umiorgoabsoiplion. hut slower. The thinker uuay foresee tlirouglt tiie mist of ages to conic, the epoch, yt afar off. in which the eaitli. 1 d peri vial of tile atmospheric aqueous vapor which protects her from the glacial cold of space hy preserving the sitlar rays around iter, will become chilled in tiie sleep of death. As Henri Vitrarez says: "From the summit of j the mountain a winding sheet of snow | will descend upon tlic high plateaus and ' the valleys, driving before it life and : civilisation, and masking forever the j cities ani nations that it meets on its passage." l.ife and human activity will press insensibly toward the intertropi cal zone. St. Petersburg, Berlin. I>oii don. Paris. Vienna. (,\>nstantinoplo and Rome, will fall asleep in succession un der tlioir sternal Sttroud. During very mnay tip's equatorial humanity will undertake Arctic expeditions to find again under the ice tip- p'l.-u-e of Paris. I.yons. Bordeaux ant! Marseilles. Tito sea coasts will have changed :uid the geographical man of tlie earth will have been transformen. No one will live and breathe any more except in the equa torial zone up to the day when the last family, nearly dead with cold and hun ger, will sit on the shore of tlic last sea in the rays of the sun which will there after shine here below on Mi ambulent tomb revolving aimlessly around a use less light and a 1 arren ueat. None of tiie boom* of the present year are more astonishing than that made by the circus delicacy known us the peanut. As the peanut stands, it shows a crop this year of 1,M5,000 bushels in Viginia, Tennessee and North Carolina, against 875,884 bushels last year.— l\cayunc. NUMBER 47. Wlut Uojs Ike In Japan. W'r hav* just had ft foreign guest of 1 our house in.wbom w<- were ail mtioh la ! wealed—a yonng Japanese, the son of gentleman In northern J spun U Inn im in California more tiuui m y*r. iuxlcame East willi th em boss v. t>a*- in* soon? days with theiu Salt Lake I 'iiy. of which place anil ilft p.pl* be Hftjri in soy very funny tiling*. But what j *< an- going to Wdl you uow is bow tin* i iioys sotui'tiuirs amuse themselves in Japan He say* that on Ills father'* place 1 which is< ft large platoau surrounded ly high lulls—4s an artificial tih pond, ( In it nre a great many fish of aperies he tins not seen here, that nre nhoul a foot long, and very beautiful in e*Aor ftmi ' form. They are as playful and a low , native kitten* on our hearth*. One of I his favorite amusement# was going to j this pond and knocking on the edge and fingers, playfully snap ping and biting at them. a* we have aU seen punniet do. But this paradise of the Japanese lv was often ruuely l*x>km in upon, fur it was not kept eipreseiy as a plaything for boys, liut was the source which sup piled Uie fish for the table. Whenever fish is wanw-d for the dinner, the wok goes to tiie tank and knocks, and whsn the poor unsuspecting up to her. sJie catches such of tlieni as pieast her, and before I "ley know where they are going, site lias them in tbc pot or (tan on the fire. This young Japanese evpie-sed nunh . surprise at seeing cranberries eaten at table, and said that in tiie mountains of Japan they grow very large and brant I fui. but are never cooked, Rome old man <*-casioniy goe* up to the mountain and picks a large basket of them, which lie brings on his shoulder* down to the town. Here the buys gather almut him. and for a small coin purchase the right to crowd their pocket* with theia. And what use do you think tie-y make rf this otherwise useless fruit? The boys blow tiie glowing lierries through rattan tub<>. a* our boys blow white lienns through tin ones. Tfiat's what cranber ries are used for in Japan, where they grow in gteat perfection. Ilow Ike Captain's Patent Worked. Having piped all hands to splice the main-brace, the cap'n had the first mate . of the farm tow out the horse and wagon, and. ascending the quarterdeck of tlie craft, lie took possession of the tiiier-nifics (as he styled the reins), and said: "Xow. boV*, my invention is very simple—l might make a million dollars • out of it oiebbe. hut I ain't going to patent it; you can all use it if you w ant to. Tvs simply fashned a twenty fatiium line onto the mixzrn axle of the craft, and put on a stout grapnel. I shall bring this here lws# along the road under douhle-reefed topsails, and then one of you euases scare Liai— o|K*n an umbrella at him, or something; then, when lie gm-s tearing along about twenty-five kn<>t an boor ami won't answer to his helm. I'll just drow the anchor and ride on the gale, flit up!' 1 ! The horse came jogging gently down the road. when, according to the pro gramme, the first mate rushed out and hit him a belt over the nose with a blanket. Tiie terrified animal stood on lib hind >g the air like a bird on the wing and sailed uia>wttew !ty for ward. alighting on his ear; the lioctr • stood on hi* head for a second, and then resumed his onward ocmtve at the rate of at least scvtvjty miles sn hour, and amid a frightful eras bins, ripping, tear ing and smashing, all the wagon van ished into thin air except * piece of the tnizren axle, to which tlie anchor had been fastened. Can'n Corn well cnn'l precisely under stand whv. wlien the tackle held, lie wasn't able to ride out the gale, but is not discouraged, and will repeat the ex pcrim?-nt a* oon a* he has had a new hugey built upon lines of hi# own de signing. Idfe insurance canvassers are leariiig down upon him from all quar lers. and the liveliest interest is rnani - tinted in tlie neiglilHrhood. We wish tlie gallant captain all success.— CUcafO Triltmf. Local AdtcrlMug. The virtue ol advertising 1s of more consequence, in a general way. than it L often emitted with A too contracted view is ao friX|ttenlly thrown around it* salutary influence# that those who read a business card seem to think that its import is of but little consequence . to anv one besides the advertiser. This, however, is a great mistake, fc.r the community at large is benefitted, ac rocding to our way of thinking, by sverv business cord of a town si on* ap waring :n the local pajK-rs. It needs no ,-ery skillful reason fug to elucidate the proposition. for their eau be no better method adopted to Improve a village, town or city, than that which keeps the ' bulk of trade at home. Ily so doing the results of industry are widely duTuurd in the expenditure*"made, society becomes o-operative to a considerable extent, material improvement* are encouraged, and pride of place is fostered. Our live store-keepers are lieginning to under stand the value of advertising. and our re looked on by citizens of the town where they reside, as in some sense public benefactors, and they should be encouraged accordingly. One merchant who advertises extensively is worth to his own town and its. people more than forty who never show them selves in print, and should bo for this reason alone preferred. asumingthat he is. ol course, a fair business man. — PrtUtotnry (A r . T.) -Veins. A Wood Same. ' How tine it is that a g*>d name is capital itself. Such a capital, like every solid aocummulation. is ndt built in a J day. but is tlie result of years ol contin uance in well-doing. Any man can liope. by a spirit of good nature or hon orable dealings, to acquire an enviable reputation, which is implied in the pos session of a good name. Little things done and observed in a series of years, the trifles of which life is made up, if done conscientiously, are what contrib ute to tlie result, and win for man the \ confidence of his fellows; and when one has thus acquired this good name, uun seek him in business, rely on his word, and prefer his goods. Such a capital is within the reach of the poorest. It commands confidence, and helps one in securing all that is desirable in life, and as it is not to lie acquired without delay, it does not depend upon birth or influence for its attainment. It is won derful s many prefer to travel by crooked ways, which, though they may seem short cuts to success, do not lead in that direction at all. ITEMS OF INTEREST. Fraaoe has penny saving buln tor •rtioalboys. i Spain* can't pay the interval OR tit* 58,500,000,000 which ah* of*. One million railway men in England are nhligad *o work on Sunday. " None but the brava deserve the hair." la the way the Indians pot it. The sale of American dainr product* aiirnad amount* annualiy to §500,000. Neat to nothing—a sir! walking will; the arrrage dandy.— Yonken (taaelte Some men haven't oourage. enough to strike an attitude.— Keokuk Hole Oily. Even criminals like paragraphs, that is to say. they prefer a short sentence. A contented sheep is a good sign of -willed wother.— DaniehamrxUe Ikntititl. ladle* are very much taken with Bob , fttgcrsoll, because he makes such i big hustle. — Dnffalo Sum lay Tiwte. Twinty-six French mayors have been ' dismissed by the government lor taking jart in factious demonstrations. The man who starts for the river to drown himself wiii ran for a place of safety if lie sees a crow bull coming. Printing was indented in I*4o. The inventor wouldn't have done it If be iad thought at spring poets.— Wheeling Leader. The hired giri who was called up at four o'clock in the morning thinks gnaw two hourr inter would sound quite as sweet. The man wlw is trying to get up a •' boom." and is a little timid about it. will a moat surely find a boom* rang.— i/'-l' ra Anj. Ex-Kmpnw Oar lot ta is in 'escaUfißt liealth and talks rationally on man) • topic*, but she is as insane as ever as to her own sad history. The man with new tight slues and an ingrowing nail >ecuu to be the one who is a! way* swlerU J by fate to be i-ompeiled to run fur a train.— New York Star. i hie of the things t heb money brings, Hmi'tos m4( -adulation. le a iron*, rnundi pan with aa nseelleat **• Ol la' twh ooa.orejoukm. llmkrntark ttrpubllfen- Tbe it* Indiai t are a mean, treacher ous lot; hut nor of them wear their watch chains dai gling from the top out side pocket of their coat. — M heeUtif leader. Adam Hammond complains that the bedclothes in the Srottaborg (III.) peni tentiary are rotten. He lore a sheet into strips and hanged himself; but the ciotii broke and let him down. Then he tried a quilt with no better success, and was badly bruised by the fall. Soft plaid silks are imported laid in folds to wear as id us on plain dresses, (specially to eaiiten bhu-k toilettes. Tiicy extend down each side le iow the belt, and are trimmed inside and across the ends with Breton lace. Th* olue and grsen plaid fichu* are very popular. The aexl artist that seeks a subject for •• Misery" should watch the man at the opera who is sitting behind two women with bend-coverinr* of great ele vation. and an ineonquerable desire to bring their beads together at frequent intervals for the purpose of exchanging re mars a. —kockUnd Courier. Robert Good muter, of OwlngsTiiie, Ky.. was a sensitive bankrupt. Being accused of trickery, he said thai tie would live just long enough to clear himself of suspicion and then kill hin - self. A trim] at law vindicated him. and immediately after the virdeet be swallowed a fatal dose of poison. A young man named Bailer, living six miles south of Fairfield. Clay -ounty. Neb., was accidentally poisoned by hb mother. The young man had been sick for some lime, and his mother dminis tered a dose of cpsom sail*, as she sup posed. but which proved to be oxalic acid. He lived just twenty minutes alter swallowing the fatal do*. " Hello. Bill, when did you change votir l*anSinr-liour said Char lev Ca lender to William Creamer, at New Vienna. Ohio, as they met in the street t 'reamer had just been released from prison, and regarding the question as insuring., he drew a big knife and stab bed the offender; but t'allender w quick enough with a revolver o sav.- his nam lift' and kill Creamer. Tim BMOawaoly day* at* come. Tbe mAWt ut tb* year; Of Wfcwbml c*ke* sad scarier rs*h. And Ave cut isgee bur. limped in lbs hollows ot the grove. lbs aulaata leave* lis dead. Tns leauvals and aabbagss Are flfleu cent* * bud. Tbs rotas and lbs wruars floao. And ima tbs abrob tbs jay. And If tbs firs the hater toasu Hit shins tbs Uvs-ionc day. -.Wu Stone, ta UeU City. How an Item was Lost. He commenced, aa he seated himself n the Hancliun: " When I was at the Centennial—" •'Great Jeoti!" thought the city editor "heV turned up again, after so manv rears of biassed peace and silence," and be cut the stranger's sentence short by hurling the dictionary at him. The stranger dodged and came up with a melancholy smile, repeating: When I was at the Centennial —" The fuuUepot followed the dictionary, but the stranger didn't seem to mind it any more than if it was a fly. He fast -ned his eye on the city editor and re peated - •' When I was at the Centennial—" "Man." said the city editor. "I will Lira a hall for you. Ufr is too short and business too pressing to listen to any old Centennial yarns now." " When Ism* at the Centennial—" " Dry up!" yelled the city editor. ( "Go off and die!" howled the tele graph editor. " Give it to us in sections!" put in the commercial editor. - Caii a policeman!" growled the man aging editor. The man arose, buttoned his coat up hi* chin, pulled his hat down over his eves, thrust hi* hands into hi* pockets, and strode out of the room. He paused on the threshold and remarked, as fast as he could talk: •' Wbeniwaaattlieoentenniaiofthe b*'- tle of Vorktown I met atuan from DM I wane* who was killed accidental .y atiu I wa*going totcllyouaboutit, but you areao blamed smart and cussed previous I guess f won't." And thus was a good item lost on a very dull day.— lk*Mo*ae* Register. Health of Sew York. Some very interesting statistics, in sanitary point of view, says the New York GMgrurr. were presented at the seventv-fourth annual meeting of the medical society of the county of New York, recently held in that city Ac cording to these statistics (and they arc gathered from the official returns of tin board of health so that they may bi considered reliable), the number ol deaths, from all catlses, during the first nine months of 1879. wa* 31.807, against, in round numbers. SO.Opn for the same period in 1871, 30.000 in 1873. 23,000 in 1873. 94,000 in 1874, 21.000 in 1875. 22.000 in 1878. 26,000 in 1877. and 34.000.in 1878- witli an average for the first nin< months of the whole series of 33,510. Thus, as though the number,for 1875 Lis not largely below the average. it*is very considers bly below the nuuikr >f deaths for the same period o< 1878, and still more largely below the number of deaths ;or the first three quarters of 1877. It must be remembered, moreover, that the population of New York is con stantly increasing. so that the propor tion of death* to population st ta i( ata much lower fit ure than usual. ■ Mortality in a Generation. A writer in a% English magazine studies from birth to tV.alli the march ol IUI English generation through life, basing his otiserVations on the regis t trar's annual report*. The autfioi singles out for illustration a generation of one million souls, and finds tiro of these more than onc-fourt!i die before tiiey reach five years of age; during the ' next five years the deaths nuinlier less . than ono-seventh of those in the first five; from ten to fifteen the average ' ■ mortality Is lower than at any other " I period; from fifteen to twenty the nuni ' ber of duaths increase again, especially 1 among women—at this period, too, in • llucnee of dangerous occupations begin '! to be seen in the death r.itc. Consump- I tion is prevalent and fatal from twen v 1 to forty-five, and is responsible for • nearly half the deaths; Irom thirty-five ' to forty-five many person* succumb to r disease of the im|M>rtant internal,organ-. ' By fifty-five, the million is but 431,115; f :d m venty-ave, 161,124; at eighty-lit e. ;' 38,56.'.; and only 202 reach the age of 1 J 100.