Storm Winds. TOAr main; The dark rock-caverns echo their refrain Along vast leagues of tempest-peaten shore. Amid goarled boles, their mighty forces pour strain The stalwart oaks that loom above the plain Relies of centuries that are no more, snow, oape; Then loudly trampet where vast ioe-flelds glow, Or with mad dissonance affright the air Where heavy clouds the sterile desert: drape. we Thomas 8 Collier, in Companion. August, Gay trips along through morning dew Bright August, clad in rosy hue; And all the hills their voices raise And myriad s0gsters sing her praise. Her reign is one of quiet grace; The soltest blushes wreatho her Woe; Sweot soonts she pours out to the hreese— She gilds the fruit on bending trees; Her wand she lifts o'er flelds of grain, And gladdens earth with tides of min, The san may scorch, but still she showers Refreshing dew on drooping flowers; And hoards of good cheer August fingeth And bounteous blessings August bringeth, So pleasantly sweet month, thon comest now ; At thy approsch the curled corn blades bow, And, as thy perfumed breexes slowly pass, New daisies smile above the freshened grass; Or when thy copious moisture fills the land The parched lips of earth with joy expand. Now gather wo the pumpkin yellow, With luscious apples, ripe and mellow; Safe trom the rain the sheaves of gran The bursting granaries fully fil; While "neath the hill the cider mill Awaits the beavy-loaded wain. In shadeless paths the fevered, panting sun Its stilly fight through tervid paths ascends, Till sullen Sirins his race hath run, And August's dreamy, dallying influence blends With lostior September mn the end; Then gleddening breezes from the sighing west At eventide shail bring ws longed dor rest. - Luther G. Riggs. ns . } i GUY'S DISAPPEARANCE H : As little Miss Bertha Finch came | down the village street to the railroad station in a high wind, with that dry brown hat of hers curling up acutely on her head, and a glimpse disclosed of the | sweet pink face which she carried Lent | down against the dust-clouds, you might naturally have thought of arbutus blos- | soms in their pale brown leaves. She | was so small and young, and flower- | ke and shy. As I remembered her she seemed to be looking down halt the time, or else it was only that she was so short as to make direct glance into her face no easy matter; so that when [she looked into one's eyes she had to turn | her own upward, Yet she could be saucy, too. There was a good deal of independence about | this small slip of womanhood, in spite of her shyness, her pathos, and her tiny | figure. * Bertha,” her mother once re- | marked, “is as set as a oat if she chooses to be; and you can't tell why | she takes her whims, no more than yon | canwhy a cat does thus and so; but when she's once got a notion, she acts it | And she had taken a whim, this par- | ticular day, to go to town by the rail- | road that went poking around the coun- | try in the neighborhood of Glyddon as informally as a plow, running such mild | little trains up and down, that Bertha | It as if all she had to do was to call | out “ Gee-whoa!” to the engine, and it! would obey her. This whim of taking the cars was a mild one, however, compared with her | freak of a few days before. Not to put | the reader in suspense, I will state that she had refused a proposal of marriage from Guy Atlee, a reasonably good and promising young man, who bad been to the high school with her in earlier days, and proposed now to graduate from the | position of a bashful lover to that of a | proud husband. i Guy had a position as clerk in the | postoffice and chief store of Giyddon, | while Bertha's father was a not very well-to-do farmer; so that the young man had the argument of worldly pros. perity on his side. But then he might | lose his position; and somehow Mr. | Finch, though he lived in a rather | broken-down old house, was always important in town affairs. At any rate, Bertha rejected the young man gayly, yet with a sense of her superiority that | was quite serious. “ What is your reason? Don't you love me?” asked he, in a business-like way. They were standing at the time on a little, unfrequested stone bridge, | with a blue and white sky reflected in | the water below, and birds singing | around them in the young green boughs. “Jf I did, do you suppose I'd tell you," | returned Bertha, with irrepressible; mirth. | + I suppose it's because you're proud, | then,” Guy inferred, becoming gloomy. | ¢ 1 think I am proud of knowing my | Gwn mind,” she admitted, ** which all | girls don't.” | “ I wish you'd tell me the real reason, the unfortunate lover resumed. ! “Well, then,” said Bertha, more | roguishly than ever, “you're too | young. Guy kicked the bridge in his impa- tience. *‘I'm a month older than you | are,” he declared, peremptorily. | “I never should be able to look up | you, his companion assured him. | his was so absurd that Guy laughed | in spite of his state of provocation. He | was nearly six feet tail, and she hardly | five, so that, taking the proposition in its linear or perpendicular instead of its | spiritual sense, Bertha was egregious] wrong. However,“ Then you can loo down to me,” he replied. And as they | were both at that moment peering over | the side of the bridge, she adopted his | counsel literally; for there he was, or | Shheared to be, gazing up out of the | placid steam from the midst of a mimie | vky. A white cloud reflection encir- | gling his head made him look prema- | turely venerable, and Bertha confessed | to herselfthat he was really handsome. | “Weli, I'm going home now,” she | said, presently. “You wait here. 1 think—it will be better.” pon this Guy became sarcastic. “ How long shall I wait?” he inquired. ‘ About thirty years, I suppose, till my hair turns gray.” “If you like,” said Bertha Finch, not daunted in the least, “I's nothing to you, I see,” the young man replied, bitterly, suddenly feeling very suicidal. “ What! waiting thirly years?” laughed she, ** Oh, yes, that would be a very serious thing to me. But I don’t suppose I shall.” be had turned back to say this, but assheresumed her retreat immediatedly, he was left alone in another moment. Guy debated with himself what he would do. He was terribly stung by what he considered Bertha’s heartless- ness, and for a moment or two the idea of throwing himself into the river, where he had just seen his own image lying so seductively, occupied his mind as a tacile though watery solution of his trouble. Then he thought how fine it would be to marry another girl, and Jet Miss Finch mature into an old maid. But to this there were three objections. ‘ Inthe first pldce, it was not certain an- ether girl would have him; secondly, Miss Finch might not become an old maid ; and finally, he Joved Miss Finch. At last he said to himself, “I know what I'll do; I'll disappear.” And he did. No young man could have been better gituated for indulging in this popular modern pastime. He had no family in town; his accounts were correct to a cent; his habits were irreproachable. There could not be, consequently, any distress to parents, or suspicion of pecu- lation, or disgraceful reason for his dropping out of sight; and the mystery of the thing would be complete. In fact, when it became known that he was no longer in the village, the theory of snicide was the one immedi. ately adopted, for the usual reason that i | — VOLUME XIIL HALL, CENTRE CO., PA. THURS TE AO SS TI DAY, SEPTEMBER © "9 1880. NUMBER 34. oid P | Nobody could te And how? i hat the cause must have been disap ointment in love, although all test nony on the subject went to show that For what t iF v it | the missing young man | exceptionally good spirits, | posed to organize a search after 1 Lind heen It was pro him, ponds; but Postmaster Pound ane | nounced that this would be useless | **Atlee left a message,” he said, “stating 3 thrown away,” in corroborstion ol | which he produced a paper signed hy | his late clerk, It could not he learned, | either, that any one had seen him near | the water, or, for that matter, anywhere | about the railroad. The last person who { had had sight of him had met him on the street toward evening; | passed on into the dusk, and that was | the iast seen of him aht mind, I think, that she betook herself to | the railroad this windy day for a trip to town. An oll man with copious white | hair, gold-bowed and a flat i crowned felt hat, who sat placidiy at lone of the car windows, reposing his \ hands on a cane which he kept remarka- bly perpendicular, was a good deal : IASI, ance as fie saw her blown along by the wind to the depot; and, as luck would hy to her instinct of preferring age to youth, and finding ail the seats hall filled by very dapper young men, or very dirty and disagreeable middle-aged ones —Bertha selected the unoccupied por- tion of this very seat where the old man maternal martin box. It was in keep- 1 im- mediately extract a paper novel from her pocket, and begin to read, despite the industrious efforts of the train t joggie her eyes out of her head and print out of the page. “Windy day, young lady,” sai th 100d Wit i i lated that she felt as if it could hardly be the voice of a stranger. It was the old man speaking to her. “ Yes,” she assented, pleasantly; “1 thought it would blow me away.” re “ But t marked her new acquaintance. it don't seem to hurt ye, to judge oni from the roses in your cheeks. the days when courtin’ how I used to like a day like this. It made my gal's face shine just in it yet.” Bertha felt her face more than before at this speech, which she rated as a trifle familiar, coming But then the man had white hair, and, after all, it was not un- pleasant. She smiled, with some em- sumed reading, while her fatherly com- panion seemed to become absorbed in recollections of his youth. th your eyes a good deal, reading in the “It does sometimes,” But determining to resign laid the book down straight at the old her gaz iaily iis whiskers and interesting. she i i } 5 returned midst of man, who from the spectacles. “So you live in Glyddon?” quired. *% Yes.” “ I'm acquainted there some. I used to Nive there.” “ You did!" exclaimed the young girl, he in- The old man began asking questions about various people in the village, and finally mentioned Atlee. from the place where I live—Woodrufl, Vermont—and folks thought he was a likely enough young man when he How's he doing now?" Poor Bertha blushed and shuok with he had personally superintended the closing ot Guy's career with a violent death. Somehow this bland, fatherly old per- son's interest in him gave her a new ness of his fate. “Oh!” she exclaimed, ‘ hadn't you heard ?” But immediately he added: can't be. I should have heard of it. Per- haps you mean he's married?” At another time Bertha would have laughed at this absurd juxtaposition, and even now had the impulse to answer, ** No, it’s not quite so bad as that.” But the mention of marriage Guy to make it wholly comical, so she knows where; it was quite sudden and " wound up with: * And 80 you can't seems singular. What do you suppose?” His young friend hesitated and looked down. not confide; soshesaid,simply, *“ 1 can't tell.” Her lips trembled a little. “Oh, well, he'll turn up all right, 1 guess,” concluded the other, soothingly. “Tt reminds me of a foolish thing I did myself when I was young. I went off and left the place I was staying in too. But that was because I was kind of spooney about a young woman that wouldn't marry me, Atlee have the name of being too level-headed for anything like that. such a fool, would he?” The small brown bat went slight! upward with a sudden movement. “ don’t know,” said theownerof it “why you should call it being a fool.” “ You know better than I do about it, of course,” assented the white-haired critic. * Perhaps that's exactly what he's done. Is it?” answered, rapidly and ungramatically. ““ And you don't blame him?” haz- arded he, induigently. “No, I don't. It shows that he feels deeply, anyway.” “Well, now,” continued the old man, with a drawl which indicated an ap- proaching relapse into garrulity,‘ it's queer enough I should have met ye, ain't it? And you from Glyddon, where I used to live: and learning news of Atlee this way. Queer enough! Well, I must see his folks when I git back, and find out if they know where he’s gone.” After this they talked of other things, until they came to Wingfield, the end of the journey, he making himself agree. able all the way, so that when the mo- ment vame for parting, Bertha was aware Lhat the journey had seemed very short, and that her casual acquaintance was veally an entertaining one. “Maybe 1 shall see you again,” Lie suggested, as they descended to the platform together. “Do you ever come to Glyddon?” she inquired, with polite reserve. “Guess I shall before long,” he re- plied. * You wouldn't be surprised, I suppose, if old ( see you some da it, whatls your name? me?’ ¥ ently intent u should think bye a little more mused Bertha, not wholly pon his own affairs. 1 stranger, a fellow hour, do? Besides, there was no evidence to sustain it. Sui- as Guy and other young men.’ . | whether he had ever heard of an old man pamed Gifford who had lived in the vilings Mr. Finch dimly recollected iim vears before “But 1 thought he was de ad.” he added “No: I met him to-day in the train, his daughter informed him, * and had a very pleasant chat. He was so nice. I do so like old men. Somehow when they pay you compliments it embarrass you, and they seem to be true; doesn’ by paying a compiiment that he doesn't BHioan m “I'm afraid the sppetite for feminine approval only increases in us with age,” laughed Mr. Finch In less than a week from the time of Guy Atlee's reappearance | 1 went up to Woodrufl to see my | folks," was the expianation] and he expected to make light of the manner of going. But though his escapade was a good i to have gained rather than lost in pub. lie esti uation by it. When he went to see Bertha Finch | he declared that jealousy had brought | him back. “1 learned of a fli stion you were carrying on with an old gen. { tleman in the cars—old Gifford; and knowing your preference lor mature men, I thought my chances, if 1 had any left. were in danger.’ “Yann are very impertinent to sup- pose you have any chances," was the retort to this, “But is persisted, “It is true that I met him. by t ished Liis i i d ris Pd @ t true about Gifford? he i ' Lie 5 Oh, “ He would be very much flattered if | he knew you said that. Shall I teil] him?" “You can if you like: i said Bertha, airiiy. | coming to call on me.” | “ Did he tell you so? Then he prob. ably wants to sell you some pills." “ Mr. Atlee, what in the world do you mean?’ * Simply that he's a patent-pill ped { ler.” “ How disgusting! exclaimed the | fastidious maiden. “Never mind, he’s a real pleasant old fellow.” * It's part of his trade to be so,” ex- plained Guy. ** But I judge, from your | admiration for him, that you still scorn poor young boys like me.” “1 never said ‘scorn,’” an- swered, “and 1 think it was cruel of you to make us all think you had per haps committed suicide. It was cow. | ardly to make me feel I might have caused it.” ‘1 didn't mean it so,” he pleaded, “1 hardly thought. I wanted to go. didn't want | any search. Couldn't you furgive me for being foolish, and, as you call it, ‘cowardiy?'" “I don't know.” “You see, I didn't sup you said, that you cars { of me." I don't care,” believe he's I i 1 d " she . t pose, from what { what became The little face that so often seemed to | be looking down was really bent with | some confusion at that moment; but | its owner, obeying a whim, said, **Per- | haps I didn't, after all.” Guy's manner changed at once. “Oh, do forgive me!” he oried, mock- | ingly. *‘I would do aimost anything to | | secure that—evan to growing several | years older, if you would only stop grow. 12, and wait for me.” ‘There, that's just like a boy. You | can't be serions two minutes together,” Bertha railed back at him. And so they parted. The very next day Gifford drove by in a withered little buggy, apparently fresh from Vermont, and stopped at | Finches’. But Bertha was not at home, i so he went on, after leaving a box of | pills, wrapped up in a boastful adver- | tisement. Toward evening, a few days ater, Guy came to see her again, and persuaded her i to walk out in the littie lane that ran be- hind the Finches’ house. He did not talk about himself, but | discussed the arrangements for a picnic in which they were interested. As he was leaving her, however, “Old Gif. ford,” he observed, “has been seen | about here lately. “The dear!” said Bertha, provok- | ingly. “How sorry I was to miss his Sik i “Did you?” Gay chimed in, sympa- | thetically. “1 wonder if it wouldn't be | desirable for me to become acquainted with such a delightful man? He might mprove me in your eyes.” “Oh, yes, he would do you ever so uch good,” she assured him. { “I'l! boon the lookout for him." said | the young man, cheerfully. ** Good- | night.” | He sauntered down the lane toward | the woods, and Bertha remained stand. | | ing under the apple tree where he had | left her, enjoying the rising sunset light. | Thus employed, and idly pulling to | pieces a bit of grass, she did not notice | the approach of another person, until an | aged voice close by her hailed her with, | “ Good-evening, Miss Finch,” seeming | almost to prolong Atlee's “*Good-night,” | which was still in her ears. It was Gifford. | She turned her head and greeted him | with decided coolness. “Glad to see ye at last,” he continued | sitting down on a stone. “It's awiul { warm.” And he removed his felt hat, | to sponge out the interior carefully with | a bandana which he produced for the | purpose. ** Did you get those pills? | First-rate to brace up with this weath- { er. Good for lassitude, rheumatism, | gout, neuralgy, headsche—but 1 sup- | pose you read the bill?" i "No haven't vet,” announced | Bertha, with threatening brevity. | “Now that disappoints me,” said | Gifford. “You don’t know their vir- {tues. Why, my second wife, she couldn't get along without them.” ~ * Horrid old wretch I” commented his listener, internally,and proceeded aloud: | *“ You mean they saved her life?” a Yes, yes,” reiurned the dealer, de- liberately, “they did—as long as she lived.” “ Well, mine seems to be pretty wej[ saved without them,” said the girl; “and anyway I don’t have any of those troubles that you mention. So I don’t think I need the pills.” “Not just now, maybe,” Gifford ad- mitted; * but then you won't always be so young as you are now, and you're bound to have rheumatism. You'll be an old womun before you know it, and an ounce of prevention's worth a pound of cure,” “I think I'll wait,” said Bertha, find- ing her venerable idol very repulsive on this second interview ; *‘ and if you'll excuse me now, Mr. Gifford, I must go into the house.” “To get the box?” he inquired. “All right. But I wish you'd wait a minute. I've got something particular to say to you.” “ Something particular?” “Yes. Thinking of that young Atlee, I made some inquiries, and, as far as could see, you are the young lady.” “What young lady? Anyway, Mr. Atlee has come back now.” “Oh yes, I know that. But you never fancied him much, and I guess he don’t stand in the way.” “I don’t understand what you're talk- ing about, * That's just what I've come to now,” said Gifford. ‘I’m sort of lonely, but I’ve got some property Iaid by, and I'm looking round for a wife. What do you say to me?” “You! I think you are horrible,” Bertha cried, frankly. *‘An old, old man like you, that’ been twice married, looking for a wife!” She recoiled invol- untarily. “There's nothing like an old fellow that knows his own mind, and the ways of the world,” he argued. Then sud- denjy—Bertha could hardly believe il true—he dro on his knees. “Won't im i i i i ! She moved toward the house rapidly, “Stop! cried the ancient guttor, in a remarkable vigorous volee “If you do that I'l tear all my out.” y Something "Bld ip mm in the tone arrested Finch's flight, and she looked faround. At the same instant the anoma ious old man, standing up very tall, {flung his entire head of white hair at her feet, and stood revealed, felt hat in hand, as Guy Atlee! | She covered her face in | but both of them burst into a { laugh the next instant, as he advanced toward her | my disappearance,’ Guy was confessing, *but the temptation was too greal Are you angry? “It was vou all the time?" she, still slightly bewildered. O!* course. The real Gifford died a ago. That day in the train | was just going to get out here to try my experiment, when | saw you at the depot, and you walked right in to sit down next to me.’ confusion, demanded over the car conversation in her mind to hersell in any way. “You have rejected me twice now,’ continued Guy, coming very close, and standing in tall humility before her- * once for being too young, and once fol being too oid Don't you think you could make a sort of compromise now, and take me apart from my age, ass man who is willing to devote himself to you, young and old? You are angry ¥ No," ’ i A Bertha, | woking down i i have heen 001 said ish too, Guy." She made the compromise, C—O A Scout's Loug Fast, “Big Foot" Wallace, the noted Texas soout, tells the following strange storys In the year 1562 I was in the north- western portion of Texas, a private in Company K, Duffs regiment, C. S. A, and stationed at Fort Davis. While on a scout two companions and mysedl detached Irom our company, and camped on Providence creek, a few ; rthwest of the fort Ve were attacked at night by Indian two companions killed, and our stampeded. 1 escaped in the darkness with only the clothes on my back, my revolver {i bowie knife. The and atiempling to the 5 § morning whi to reach a pool of water in a rocky ravine 1 tell and fractured my left leg about midway between ankle and knee, both being broken, pool was a deposit of tough, tenacious ol bones { [TWO TRAGEDIES OF NIAGARA, | —— i Yaln Attempt at HMescue, | More than twenty years ago | witnessed a tragedy | heartrending character, wns marked by | An AC | in grandeur, Mr. Charles f young man about twenty-three { twenty-four years of age, was aflianc or {of Buflalo. comprising Mrs, De Forrest, a younger daughter, Eva, a heautiful child five or six years old, and | % Charley” Addington, as his friends | were accustomed to call him, visited the fulls. They crossed the bridge to Goat | island, and, while resting under the | trees, little Eva strayed away from the | group, and approaching the bank of the narrow but deep and swift stream that rushes between Goat island and the small island lving between it and the | American rapids, was amusing herself | by casting sticks into the water and watching them as they were whirled swiltly away, Mrs. De Forrest, alarmed for her child's safety, re quested Charley Addington to go after her and bring her back. Charley at once proceeded to the | bank, and, thinking to give the little | one a fright, approached her stealthily | from behind, and, eatehing her under the arms, held her over the stream The startled ehild instantly threw up her little arms over her head, and instantly i she slipped through young Addingion's hands and fell into the rapids The realization of the horrible calam. ity must have come home to Adding. ton's brain with the rapidity of the ightning's flash. He saw that his rash | 80 had cost the child's life—that only | one desperate chance of saving her re- mained—that the world was at an end i for him forever. Tearing off his coal, he rushed along the bank until he had passed | by her clothing; then plunging in ahead ol HT ¥. hi seine d thie child and di Sper. ately attempted to throw her up on the As he made the effort he fell back in the rapids and was whirled over the small fall that intervenes between the American horseshoe falls. Little | Eva struck the top of the bank, but all | power had apparently gone from her, and she rolled back into the stream and | was hurried to her dreadful fate The mother and sister stood powerless and paralysed with horror while the tragedy, almost instantaneous in action, passed before their eyes, leaving its dark | eloud hangicz over all their future ityes Charles Addington bad made & hero's One day a happy party, i Ui bank its ¥ ! His father—he was an only was in the habit of visiting the | tenp completely out of the water, the | feet being visible, before it took the Ler. rible plunge. The death-like silence Hint had fallen upon the crowd was { broken by a tearful cry—a sound min- | gling a wail, a how! and a shriek in one. Many strong men as well as women fainted, Thev had witnessed a tragedy | likely to be soon forgotten, IA A 5 A Book of Beauty. A New York publishing house has | commenced work upon a subscription | book designed to illustrate American | beauty. This volume is to contain one | hundred choice steel-plate engravings of | living American vomen, remarkable for their beauty. Daintiest of letter. press, on highest grade of printing pa. { per, is to explain the portraits of the one Rundred beauties, ani ‘be binding is to be executed in the higli «+L style of the | bookbinder's art. Our large country is notable for the number of its beautiful | women, and one hundred couid not be- {gin to do justice to the aggresaie of | American feminine loveliness, Who is to select the comely Indies, whose coun terfeit presentments are to embellish the fortheoming volume of loveliness, is not stated, To say the least of it, the task is one of great delicacy, and, no matter how impartially performed, will be cer. tain to give grave displeasure to the tens of thousands of acknow led red American beanties whose pretty pictures will not grace the volame, If the friends of the one hundred favored fair are numerous and chivalrous enough to subscribe for one or more copies of the work, the pub- ‘isher may be satisfied, but the om|tted beauties will not, Even the courageous canvassers for subscriptions to the book are deserving of general sympathy whenever they happen among a group ol belles, not one of whom has been se. lected for the ** Book of Beauty." Ten or a dozen years ago an enter- | prising publisher issued a book of por- traits of ladies called ** Queens of Amer- jean Society.” The sictures purported to be likenesses of leaders of society, lew of whom made any pretensions to sur- passing beauty. We believe the novel work was a pecuniary sucoess; there was no disputing the social position of the leaders of society; but who can or dare decide as to who are the one hun- dred transcendent beauties of America's array of feminine loveliness? How that book will be praised and pitched into by she critics! how it will be pro. nounced charming and stupid by hosts of fair readers! how publishers will be overwhelmed with indignant letters! but how American literature is to be henefited by so invidious an illustrated work we cannot for the life of us see.— i A Nd I bound my broke n limb | falls once 8 week for years after the | Prinfer's Ctreniar. with my shirt torn in strips, and hen | pagedy and he would sit for hours | actored it aver tFiekliv wit he olay | " . ——————————— plastered it over thickly with the clay, | ousing at the spot where his son and F5y ing he olay poul tice. After y 1 experi- enced no pain frou racture, Dur. ing the first three or four days I suffered | I used water spar- ingly, and kept my belt comfortably tight about my waist, which apparently | afforded me relief from the griping pains | that occasionally annoyed me. For one * the secon the Lae { 3 i # not sufficiently so to banish from my wind that absolute rest of the injured limb was necessary. i accident 1 removed the ee, and found, to my great joy, the broken bones were reunited. Aftera few ¢, and ii a little SLO on my feet, holding on to tree I limb. th slowly, with the stick that answered as a cruteh, worked WAY several hundred yards, | when 1 became exhausted and sought en cautiously and assistance of a forked 3 i i for scon dropped into a fitful sleep that I eayote wolf, which was but a fow yards I took as good aim at him away, providentially Killing him; then 3 i cramps in my stomach. Alter suffering untold agonies for an hour or more the pain gradually subsided, and I fell into a sound and refreshing slumber. When I An ai most insatiable desire seized me to fill stomach for twenty-one days. f the fles roasted the hams of the wolf, on whieh I subsisted for the next two days, awal- lowing very little of the flesh, but all the juice 1 could extract by constant chewing. During the two days I walked eight miles and reached the fort, where I was received as one of the dead. 1 was put in the hospital, and under the kind care and skillful dietary manage- ment of Dr. Arthur Stevens, surgeon, C. 8. A., I slowly recovered my health and strength. My ordinary weight prior to my starvation was about 205 pounds. fort I weighed 1964 pounds. My height is six feet one and a half inches. Facts in Human Life, more than 1,000 religions. The namber of men is about equal to the number of women. The average of life is about thirty-three years. One quarter die pre- vious to the age of seventeen, and those who pass this age enjoy a felicity refused to one-half of the human species ot the earth. To every 1,000 persons only one reaches 100 hundred years of life; to every 100 only six ever reach the age of sixty-five, and not more than one in 500 lives to eighty years of age. There are on earth 1,000,000,000 inhabitants, of these 33,333,333 die every year, 91,834 every day, 3,720 every hour, sixty every minute, or one every second. The mar- ried are longer lived than the single, and, above all, those who observe a gober and industrious conduct. Tall men live longer than short ones, Women have more chances of life in their favor previous to fifty years of age than men have, but fewer afterward. The number of marriages is in pro- portion of seventy to every 1,000 inhabi- tants. Marriages are frequent after equinoxes--that is, during the month of June and December 25. Those born in spring are generally more robust than others. Births and deaths are more fre- quent by night than by day. The num- ber of men capable of bearing arms is calculated at one-tenth of the popu- lation. INS A Forest of Lighting. The “St. Elmo's Fire,” or electricity seen playing on the bayonets of march- ing armies, and around the spars and masts of ships, comes from the presence of a * charged” cloud in the air, from which the pointed objects draw the lightning. A splendid instance of this same phe- nomenon was witnessed in the Jura at St. Cergues, where a whole forest of vine trees was seen to be aglow with ight, like a phosphorescent sea in the tropics. A thunder-storm was raging at the time, and at every flash of lightning the illumination entirely disappeared, but soon shone forth again until the next flast came. Before the appearance of this St. Elmo's fire, heavy rains had fallen and soaked the forest, so as to render it con- ductive of electricty, and the thunder. cloud overhead, heavily charged with electricity, had induced an opposite charge on the ground below, which dis- charged itself into the air by the pointed P you have me Phe entreated, boughs and needles of the pine trees. ttle Eva had met their deaths. He be. yany who believed that he would ond voluntarily seek the same Inte that his son, in his heroism, had courted. But his sad pilgrimage had no such end- were i An with vory dramatic ac. acoident after the sad event that cost Charley Addington and Eva Forrest their lives. One morning, soon after daybreak, the early risers at the falls discovered trunk of a tree which for years had shown itself above the boiling rapids on the American side, having been caught by and become firmly wedged into the rocks on its way toward the fails. Look- wy in ¥ i still 18 In fiercest part of the rapids, nearer to the small island on the can side of Goat island than shore. The moving fuil sight i consid Ax i" nn erably 1eri- the 3 dared JOC ) oh was soon found to iis during the night, while he niraculously been cast oe, by which he had mana. ged to stop his fearful rush toward death. Dispatches were immediately sent to Buffalo to the coast life-saving over the 1: himself had against Lhe carrying 1 Niagara by a special train, Jans to save the man were concerted. Jat before the arrangements were com- s had been spread abroad, of persons had reached the falls by speciaitrains, i | pleted, the new land many thousands i Goat | island. the bridge, the American shore, { the roofs and windows of all adjnoent | bui.dings and the branches of trees were | jovered with snxious and horrified gpectalors. The first attempt at reseue was by ans of a Francis metallic lifeboat at- hed to a cable which was siacked off | from the bridge opposite the log, and | guided by side ropes. The boat had not got far from the bridge when the | fierce rapids seized it, turned it round | and round, and appeared to be endeavor- | ing to crush in its sides. The strong | cable snapped like a whip-cord, and the | poor fellow who had been watching the | effort made for his rescue saw the boat | whirled past him and carried over the | falls. ns if in mockery of his would-be | rescuers. | consumed in deliberating on a | plan, and it was proposed to fasten a | eable to some building on the American i | me tac i i | it would sa, | rescue the man by means of a basket hung on the cable by rings, and to be | let down and pulled in by means of | smaller ropes. The material for this experiment could not be procured, so at last it was decided to send down a strongly constructed raft in the same manner as the lifebost had been launched, and it it renched the man in safety, to ease it over toward the small island, from whence his rescue would be comparatively easy. The raft was built, but it was four o'clock in afternoon before all was ready. The day had passed without the flight of time being heeded. The excitement was intense. Men and women, who | had stood for hours without food, were painfully agitated. The rafi moved. It i i i i angry rapids. It neared the log. The man stood up and waved his arms. The raft came within his reach, and he got quantity of weak brandy and water thst had been put aboard, and fastened him- gelf by the lasnings that had been pre- pared and the intent of which he under- stood. Then the raft was cautiously and steadily moved toward the island with the precious freight. The people ghouted, and many wept from over- wrought feeling. Suddenly the raft eame to a stand, It had caught in a rock. To attempt to force it was to risk its parting, and the fatal consequences could not be misun- derstood. The poor victim seemed to take in the situation and to grow desper- ate. He unfastened the lashings, stood up, made a spring from the raft in the direction of the island, and was in the foaming waters. Instantly he struck out for the island. He seemed to be a powerful swimmer, and thousands of men and women held their breath in horrified suspense. He appeared to near the island in his desperate efforts. Then arose the cry, * He's saved! he's saved!” But suddenly those on the bridge, who could see more distinctly from their lo- cation, became aware that the space between the island and the swimmers head was gradually widening. There was another dreadful moment of sus- pense, and then the unpitying rapid- seized their prey, and apparently maks ing sport of the efforts that had been resorted to to snatch him from their rasp, twisted him round and whirled Bim along until they hurried-him over the precipice. As the poor fellow went over a singular effect was observable. The vast body of falling water curves over the edge of the falls like a huge wheel, and as the body was shot forward by the force of the current it seemed to Honoring the Printing Press. Says a oontributor in the Atam'ic Monthly: Saavedra, whose father was at one time president of the State of Trujilli, was sent abroad to study, with a number of young men, by the Vene- | gulean government. On returning to | his country he resolved to devote him- countrymen, | work in Booono—{ar in the interior—and | rejecting all prolerred advantages, so | tempting to youne Venezuelans, held | | out by friends in the larger cities who | earnestly desired him to make a name for himself, and “not bury himself in the interior.” He lives in the Cordilleras. lin the most beautiful valley, full of with three rivers, all large boats, where the climate is le cooler than in Caracas. When | | Saavedra returned from FEurope hel founded a society for recreation and progress, hired two large rooms and began to form a library. Each member gave a book or two, so that now they have 250 volumes and a number of peri- | odicals, The library is open all night, ere to read. | trees, il ih f un and the workingmen go tl Next, Saavedra proposed to buy a printing press. Immense enthusiasm. Everybody contributed; * eighty senoras and senoritas,” he nye The money was sent to the | United States, and they soon heard that the famous press was in Caracao. Then it was proposed to make a grest fiesta in honor of its arrival. When they heard that the press was on the road | and almost there, eighty peopieon horse- back went to receive it. There were thirty ladies, each with a small flag and | a wreath of flowers. When they reached the cart with the press they covered it and the packages with the flags and flowers, and conducted it in triumph to Bocono. They dedicated the square with music and speeches, and in | the evening met in the library. Imag- | ine it—they bad never seen a printing yress! The printer came from the cap- | ital, Trujillo. Saavedra says there was | a breathless silence when the press was put in motion, and as the sheet was | drawn out with the declaration of the | independence of Venezuela printed on [ it, every one, ladies, gentlemen and the { populace in the doors and windows, | burst into cheers. i EE — Aquatic Journalism. | The Atlantic Daily is the name of a | four-page daily which Mr. J. H. Hart- | ley, of Boston, began to publish on the steamship Devonia, off Sandy Hook. He had a case of type and a job press on | board, and each day during the voyage he * set up” and printed his edition of | 300 copies, regard less of fogs, storms and joebergs. He says that he set up about 10.000 ems a day. Once ina gale the deck was at an angle of forty-ive de- grees, but he strapprd the * case” to the | washstand and managed to dodge the | press when it seemed to be making a | center shot for his head. Here is one of | the weather predictions: “For the Devonian and adjacent States, | rising and falling barometer, with a high | state of pulse and low fever among late | risers. Tendencies downward. Winds | lateral. Thermometer variable, accord- ing to position of observer. Clouds | light tulle, shading invisible green.’ Three steerage boys were employed, | but when the passengers called them | “devils,” they ** struck,” and could not { be induced to work at any price. When among the icebergs of Newfoundland | the ink froze up. Burlesque telegrams | were printed and passengers expectin to be seasick were requested to ** notify’ the steward. Various jokes perpetrated by the passengers were printed, together with all the news—social, political, religious and nautical—of the voyage. The editor found much difliculty when he ran out of ** sorts” and “*em quads,” as it was very far to New York and York i {the walking was damp.—New He rald. Dampness in Houses. Many houscholders are sorely (roubled by the growth of fungi in damp rooms, to which they communicate, in a short time, an unpleasant smell and an un- wholesome atmosphere. It is not only our cellars that are apt to be affected by fungoid growth, but the walls of the {adjacent rooms, and many bedrooms on | the ground floor are similarly rendered useless after a moist season. Many remedies have been proposed to destroy this fungoid growth, or to prevent its occurrence, but hitherto these remedies have been too expensive or totally inefli- cacious. Rae an alcoholic solution of five grammes of salicylic acid per- litre of water for washing the rooms has heen recommened. This is exactly one-half per cent., or one part salicylic acid for 200 parts liquid. No doubt the mold may be destroyed temporarily by this as by many other solutions such, for instance, as corrosive sublimate or earbelic acid. ‘The true remedy is not this temporary expedient, nor attempt- ing to hide the dampness by ename paints, ete. ; it is to cut off the source of moisture, and to put the waterproof materials outside and not inside the Curious Facts About Water, | The extent to which water mingles | with bodies, npparently the most solid, | is very wonderful. The glittering opal, | which beauly wears as an ornament, is ionly flint and water. Of every 1,200 | tons of earth which a inndlord has in his estate, 400 are water, The snow- millions of tons of water in a solidified form, In every plnster of paris statue which an Italian carries through the streets for sale there is one pound of water to four pounds of chalk. Theair we breath coninins five grains of water to each eubie foot of its bulk. The potatoes and turnips #hich are boiledfor our dinner have, in their raw state, the one seventy-five per cent, and the other ninety per cent. of water, If 5 man weighing 140 pounds were | squeezed in a hydraulic press, seventy pounds of water would run out, the wisnce being solid matter. A man is, chemically speaking, forty-five pounds of carbon and other elements, with nitrogen diffused through five and a half pailfuls of water. In plants we find water mingled no less wonderfully. A sunflower evaporates one and a quar. ter pints of water a day, and a cabbage about the same quantity. A wheat piant exhales in 175 days about 100,000 grains of water, The sap of plants is the medium through which this mass of fluid is conveyed, It forms a delicate pump, up which the watery particies run with the rapidity of a swift stream. Bythe action of the sap various properties may be accumulated to the growing piant. Timber in France is, for in- stance, dyed by various colors mixed with water, and sprinkled over the roots of tree. Dallins are also colored by a similar process. i The Proposed Sahara Sea. A difference of opinion exists among Furopean engineers in reg to the practicability of establishing a sea, as pow proposed, in the great desert of Sahara, in Africa, the chief problem being, it would seem, how to keep it up. It is argued that, supposing the sea to be created by means of a canal, it will jose an enormous quantity of water by evaporation every day, without the in- troduction of an equal volume of fresh. The water evaporated being replaced by | a supply coming through the canal, the whole body will soon reach the maxi- mum of saturation; and thus, the | evaporation still continuing, a deposit {of salt will be formed which, in time, | must fill up the whole space of the in- | terior sea—the salinity of the walter | being such that no animal life would be | possible in it, and the ultimate result being simply the accumulation of an immense deposit of sait. On the other hand, the projectors of the enterprise claim that the presence of this water, and its evaporation, must produce ocopi- ous rains, which will in a large measure return to the sea, and thus not only ac- | complish the object referred to, but also convert a sterile waste into a fertile country. An Old Church In Virginia. In 1710 a German Lutheran colony emigrated and settled in Robinson Valley, Madison county, Va. The title- deed for the ground on which they built their church, still standing, an known as the * Old Duteh Church,” was made in 1720, The stout timbers uplifted then are as stoul as ever, ‘and the mortar in the foundation has hard- ened to the consistency of stone. The audience room is cruciform in shape, with two side galleries and organjioft. The interior was somewhat changed about ten years ago. The high pulpit has been replaced by one of modern construction. In front of the pulpit, ithin thie altar railing, stands the bap- tismat bowl of silver, * made and pre- sented May 18, 1727, by Thomas Giffon This inscription is found In the loft at the rear of the church stands the pipe organ, presented to the congrega- tion by Gustavus, King of Sweden. [1s pipes have faded to a dull lead color. It was made more than 100 years ago at Lutzen, Sweden, under the direction of the king, expressly for this church, and isin a very good state ol preserva tion. The keyboard is a complete re- versal in point of color, those keys be- ing black which are white in modern instruments, the raised keys being ebony, faced with ivory. The tone of the asa ment is said to be still very good. How it Feels to Drown, When I gave up #11 hope in the water 1 did not suffer one pang of remorse about my past life. I have always been told that when a man is drowning all his past life comes before him and he suffers horrors of conscience. It was not so with me. I thought of you, m dear father and mother, and of you all at home, and what a sorrow the news of my death would be to you all, and then, strange to say, 1 thought how peopledo lie. 1 have always been told that death by drowning is the easies death, and yet here I am, suffering agonies of pain, and I remember wish- ingif I am to be drowned let it be done quickly. Then 1 thought, I am about to solve the problem about the future worid,and 1 feit the same feeling of shy- ness and dread come over me that 1 fel- so often, and never could conquer, when I was outside a drawing-room door and about tn be ushered into the presence of a crowd of ladies and men. 1 have been asked if I never thought about the sharks which infest the place. 1 am thankful to say they never entered into my head. It [ had remembered them 1 feel sure 1 should have gone down like a stone.— Philadelphia Temes. Alter Many Years* Some excitement was caused at Mahoney City, Penn., recently, by the discovery by some boys of a number of old coins in a field. A very old man living there ncoounts for the coins as follows: In 1810, when the country was a wilderness, a country inn stood at what is now the central part of the town. A peddler stopped one day at the inn in question A hunter from New Jersey, named Bailey, was aiso at the house. When the peddier alighted, Baily carried in his saddie-bags for him. While doing this he heard the iingle of money, and, as the bag was jeavy, he concluded that there was considerable gold and silver in it. He accordingly proceeded up ...e mountain, lay in ambush for the peddier and shot him through the heart. Persons going along the road found the body and it was interred by the roadside. A small mound marks the spot to this day, and people from adjoinin places never pass the place without referring to the fate which the peddler met. Bailey was traced to New Jersey by the authorities, arrested, found guilty and subsequently hanged. Betore his death he made a contession in which he told where he buried the saddle-bugs, but the exact spot never could be found. Removing Odors. According to the Druggists’ Circular, ground mustard, mixed with a little water, is an excellent agent for cleans- ing the hands after handling odorous substances, such as liver oil, musk, yalerianic acid and its salts. Scale pans and vessels may also be readily freed from odor by the same method. A. Huber states that all oily seeds, when powdered, will answer this purpose. In the case of almonds and mustard, the development of ethereal oil, under the influence of water, may perhaps help to destroy foreign odors. The author mentions that the smell of earbolic acid may be removed by rubbing the hands with damp flaxseed meal, and that cod liver bot*les may be cleansed with a little First-Class Snake Stories, “Do you want some items about ae king guntleman of the 's editor the other day. w “If they are fresh and true” re- sponded the editor. “ Exactly,” replied the farmer. “ These iteras are both, Nobody knows ‘em but me, 1 got a farm down on the isiand a piece, and there's lots of snakes on to it. Nearthe house isa pond about six feet deep. A week my little irl jumped into the pond, and would ave drowned it it had not been for a snake. The snake seen her and went for her and brought her ashore The par- ticular point about this item is the way that he did it.” : “How was it? asked the city ed tor. * It was a black snake thirty feet long, and he just coiled the middie of himself around her neck soshe couldn't swallow any water, and swum ashore with his head and tail, Js that a good item?” “ Firs class, “You can spread it out; Jou know, patted the head, and it went off as After they Sot ashore the snake on the pieased as Punch. Ever since he comes to the house reguisr at and she feeds him on pie. Think you can make anything out of that item?" “Certainly. Know any more? “Yes. | gota baby six months old. He's s boy. We generally sit him out on the grass of a morning, and he hol lers like a bull all day: st least he used to, but he don’t any more. On more. ing we noticed he wasn't hollering, and wondered what was up. W we looked, there was a rattlesnake coiled up in front of him scanning his features. The boy was grinving and the snake was grinning. Bimeby the snake turned his 1sil to thes baby and hacked his rattle right into the baby's fist.” * What did the baby do?’ * Why he just rattied that tail so you could hear it three-quarters of a mile and the snake lay there and grinned. Kv morning we found the snake there, un one day a bigger snake came baby played with his rattles just the same till the first snake came back, He looked thin and I reckon he had been sick and sent the other to take his place. antsy oe Will that do for an item?” “ Immensely,” replied the city edi- tor. “You can fill it about the confidence of childhood, and all that, and might say something about the blige. eyed cherub, His name is Isaac. P03 st in to please my wife.” “1 wil do it. Any more snake Reps? You have heard of hoop- “ Lemme see. You have snakes" * Yes, often.” “Just so. Not long ago we heard a fearful row in the celiar one night. It sounded like a rock-blast, and then there was a hiss and things was quiet. When 1 looked in the morning the cider bar- rel had busted. But we didn't lose much cider.” “ How did you save it?" “Jt seems that the staves had busted out, but before they could get away four hoop-snakes coiled the barrel and tightened up and held it together until we drew it off in botties. That's the way we found ‘em, and we've kept ‘em around the house ever since. We're training ‘em for shawl straps now. Does that strike you favorably for an item?” * Enormously,” responded the city editor. * You can fix it up so as to show how quick they were to get there before the staves were blown off. You ean word in the details.” “Of course. I'll attend to all that. Do you think of anything more?” “1 don't call any to mind just at pres- ent. My wife knows a iot of items, but I forget "em. By the way, though, I've got a regular Jving - osity down on my place. One day my oldest boy was sitting on the back stoop doing his sums, and he couldn't ‘em right. He felt something nst his face, and there was a little snake coiled up on his shoulder and looking at the | slate. In four minutes he had done all the sums. We've tamed him so b keeps all our accounts, and he is the lightningest cuss at figures you ever seen. He'll run up a column eight feet long in three seconds. I wouldn't take a reaper for him.” “What kind of a snake is he?” in- quired the city editor, curiously. “The neighbors all call him an adder.” **Oh, yes! yes" said the city editor, a little disconcerted. “ I've heard of the snecies. When did all these things hap- in? “ Along in the fore part of the spring, but I didn’t say anything abont ‘em, ‘cause it wasn't the season for snake items. This is about time for that sort of thing to begin, ain't it? “Yes,” chipped in the exchange edi- jor. “ You couldn't have picked out a better time for your snake stories.” Brooklyn Eag'e. Dika Bread. The following interesting note ocon- cerning the preparation of the dikaor odika bread of Western Africa has re- cently been received from Dr. H. W. Bachelor, in the Gaboon, by Mr. Thomas Christy, to whom we are indebted for it: “The plums are gathered as they fall from the tree, and are emptied from baskets one after another until a large heap is formed. They are allowed to remain many days until the outside has putrified, aad then the nuts are cracked the seeds or kernels taken out an smoked for many days. Then they are put into a large mortar and crushed into a homogeneous mass. The rays of the sun are now allowed to pour on the mass, which melts and is put into a mold. This mold is of the shape of a frustum of a cone, and the cakes vary in diameter from eight inches to a foot at the base. These will keep for six months.” Dr. Bachelor also makes the follow- ing interesting remarks with regard to the native medicinal plants of the coun- try: The only way of ascertaining the properties of any product here is to ask the natives “* it it poisons Ron Mori the monkeys eat it,” and by direct ex- periment. The natives themselves know nothing of one medicine for one disease, and another for another. It is, in their opinion, the witcheraft that cures, not the leat itself. — Scienlific American. The Chinese in New York. The New York correspondent of the Buffaio Courier writes as follows: The Chinese in New York, where they be- come more and more numerous very fast, care a great deal more about money than about religion. One of the , inst the Chinese, by the way—t they don’t marry—is not quite true. Some of them do marry—when they can get white wives. inaman and a white girl went to the mayer’'s office the other day, and were e man and wife, A short time before another Chinaman and a white woman, who appeared as his wife, were in the police court to settle a row about the name of their baby. The taste of the white girls who take ee- washee husbands can hardly be com- mended, but the washee-washee men don't care much about the taste, I sup- pose, so long as they get wives. There s already some talk about asking the legislature to forbid this kind of mis- cegenation, but what it may amount to I cannot say. As yet there is no sign of a special demand for Chinese servants. Probably not more than fifty of the 2.500 Chinese in New York are employed in this way. I understand that some who have tried Chinamen have been glad to ret rid of them after a few weeks. There general dissatisfaction. walls. — Sanitary Enquirer. of the same, or olive oil. ——— I ———— The famous violinist, Ole Bull, isill and obliged to cancel his engagements. «nd Tl tall Name. » saan Halleck MePherson NeDowell A * Johnson, A. 8 i Beauregard Earl H Pem der, antiquity, (and Confu old family, who which Mr. Abhor yers. a very hard grave,” you, % his ¥i arama samen sean suru nese sx ennn os world! om! it of the remunera. into a face from | Si +19 18 wl 19 .. 48 1 REGEREEAEE BREEARRONEREREERARAEEEE] SRLLLRLREBRSETRS22S Hert EOULLURBRELRELERRRE 7 of the Chinese to bore my discussion, not far from ‘of China, 3 Let alone
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers