The King’s Quest, The king rode fast, the king rode far: “ Now, by my crown,” quoth he, “ILL in all the land, shall find A maiden of contented mind— Be she of high or low degree, By Pagan rite or Christian signed My consort she shall be.” But when he chanced the maid to meet, Bo well content was she, She would not wed—but, deaf and blind, Want on her way: “ Alack, I find I'm ought in my own web,” quoth he; * This maiden of contented mind Is too content for me.” Century Magazine Afternoon, Bing, my heart, a cheerful song, Though the shadows, growing long, Show the sun descending; Life hath been a joyous day Faith and love shalt smooth the way To a happy onding: Sing, my hoart, a song of peace While the shadows still increase, Hail, oh heart! the calmerdays Groot the cooler, milder rays Of the sun descending: If old age should come apace, Weloome it with gentle grace, Sash VOLUME XI1V. CENTR I 1 ’ 0C0., PA., THUR SDAY, DECEMBER 8, 1881. nn A A RP SRD NSIS NUMBER 48. pn “As for me, | couldn't stand it no longer, 1 pitied the young man, and I says to Fanny, quite decided, says 1: “ ‘ Fanny, take that dress, even if it ain't just your exact idea. None of us get just what we want in this world, and if we find what is serviceable and looks well we ought to be thankful, I advise you to take it,’ says I. “ She looked sort of undecided for a minute, and then, breaking out into good-natured smiles, she said: work while oreddit to his iit any he gave his mind to hie | there, and was ever after folks Yon'd have hot how, from the fuss they made about him I'hey wasu't content with a small celebration, but had to give a big grove party, so that all the town folks could come and make him welcome. Of course, Fanny was asked, and of course she wore her best girls didn't { have one for avery week th 4 BA dress day in the tt i “ Well, Aunt Jemima, I am glad to { take your advice, I never could be sat. | though she didn't know it harself. isfled with my own tastes. In fact, “ Evervthing was of the finest and when I see so many things I can't tell | best, and the voung dootur was so which I want, and I dare say I have | agreeable to all the girls that they just tired you.’ forsook the other young men and elus- “Here she gave the young mansuch a | tered "round him. melting smile that he forgot all about “The heft of "em was dressed in thin his supper, and frisked round, doing up | white stuff, and some one compared ‘em the silk into a parcel, with his admiring to fairies. This set Fanny thinking eyes fixed on Fanny as long as she was | over her green silk, and made her dis. in sight. | contented, as usual. * Now you see, Gussie, my dear, that *‘ By-and-bye up comes a storm; the “No, my dear,” said Aunt Jemima, | I sotually committed the weakness of | rain catches the poor fairies, and sends an old lady whose logic was far superior | advising that young lady, and from that | ‘em flving from the danecing-ground into to her syntax, * don't you never ask no | hour my trouble began. relt advice of nobody, but just find out! * There was a family living here at [bad gone some time before to sit by your own opinion and what it's founded | that time much esteemed for the enter. | Mrs. Stanley. They were all either on. If it sin’t got no foundation, "taint | tainments they gave. Dare was their | damp or draggled, and as the day grow worth saving; if it has, be sure it's & | name-—a mother, reputed a rich widow, | cooler after the rain they s ¢ good one, and them just sliek to it. | with two daughters—and their invites | a lot Don't let nobody do your thinking for | were sent out for a great party, so that | shawls and things youn. We've got to give in our own ao- | Fanny had to hurry up the making of | getting cold : counts when the last reckoning comes, | her new silk, which she expected to | Then came Fanny's tum. She and straight or crooked, right or wrong, | shine in on the oceasion. looked as fresh as a blush-rose in a cir we have to meet the judgment. No- “I took a great interest in Fanny; so, | cle of green leaves, and Philip Stanley then—and mighty pretty she looked, Patient wait the ending: Bing, my heart, a song of peace, While the shadows still increase, = CO. Dawson, i i AUNT JEMIMA'S ADVICE. tO Keep them from ie body can shift or shirk that, and the when I went over to see her dressed, sooner we learn to be responsible—to | and found she needed some trifle from | kind of depend on ourselves, and sort | the dry goods store, I ran off to get it. | with that was such a intimate i Hh becoming material for a lady's dress he never knew green sil of bear our own weight—the better for! “I noticed great bills stuck in the | before, and that if he ever married his us here and hereafter.” windows about damaged silks just re- | wife should always have one.” “Oh, Aunt Jemima, how solemn | ceived and for sale below cost, but I| “Ob, Aunt Jemima!" cried Gussie your tone is, and how you shake your didn't think much of it till, by-and-bye, | Stafford, clapping her hands and break: head at me, when all I asked was your | when the party was over, and poor |ing into a pleased langh; “you're advice about the pienic to-morrow! Fanny—who had promised to stop in| telling me about mamma and papa, un- Frank Abbott asked me to go with him, | and tell me how she bad enjoyed her | der different names.” and just by the same post comes a note | self—arrived in a flow of tears. i “Not so very different,” returned from Kate Hunter—I do like Kate; she’s| ““<Oh, Aunt Jemima,’ she cried, ‘I [old woman. * Elizal Frances was | 80 pleasant—and she begs me to go can never tell you how wretched I've | your ma's name—called for her two with her and her brother Harry,” been to-night! I shall always hate | grandmas, nocording to the proper way “ Jest so so!" exclaimed th | that Mary Dare. She has such a mean, | of doing things; and, though your pa old lady. © That's jest what I'm talk- | jealous disposition, and never loses an | called her * Bess,’ I call her | ing abont. You've got what I call a | opportunity to hurt people's feelings | Fanny.” double invite, and you come to me fo | and make them appear silly. It seems “And it was decide which of em you ought to take | there are cheap, damaged silks in town, | green dress t up with. Now, see here, Gussie Staf- ' and she pretended to mistake mine for |} 1 41 i Lie ill n ' 34 : 3" he often i! ki wough her despised hat papa fell in love with | mused Gussie, tracing a flower of her I" ford. You're mighty nice girl, and I love youn most as well as if you was my nat'ral born child; bat I sin’t going to senses of your own; you've got your eves, ears and judgment. Go to work and use all three. Firs! try your eyes, and they'll show you that Frank Abbott is one of the handsomest young men going, and if you listen to him you'll find him as slick a talker as there is up here in Waterford. Now, it's your judg- ment's turn, and what does it say? Take care, Onssie; don't be deceived. Beauty's only skin deep, and Satan himself’s a smooth chap as far as words go. Look deeper; compare Frank's idleness with Harry Hunter's industry, and you'll find that he has spent his father's mousy, while Harry has already made a nice home for his mother and 3 flirt, and if Harry Hunter shows a young lady any attention he's sure to mean it." “Thank you, Aunt Jemima,” cried Gussie, langh I will be sure to pay attention to what you have said. Iknew you could set me right, and I rely on your judgment.” | “There!” exclaimed the old lady, | getting quite excited and shaking her forefinger admonishingly at her merry favorite. “Ain't I jest done telling yon not to rely on nothing nor nobody, but to exercise your common sense and | make up your own mind? Why, bless us, if it isn't twenty years and more since I advised any one, and never in Sai duced me $0 speak a word of counsel.” | “Why, what happened then, anntie ?” inquired Gussie, with becoming serions- | ness, i “rll tell yon, dearie, if you just sit | dows here on this stool at my side. Never mind Harry Hunter. He is sure | to go by at tea-time; but that won't he | for a half-hour yet. I'll tell you when to look--" | “Oh, auntie, I hope you don’t think | I was" : “Certainly not,” chuekled Aunt Je- | mima. enjoying the blushes that mantled | Gussie’s ronnded cheeks, as s» evidences of her regard for Mr, Hunter. *“1only thought you might want to | rend his sister a message about the pic- nie. Bat I was going to tell yon about | my experience in advice givirg. You tee I was younger than I be now. 1! didn’t wear caps nor specs, and my hair | wasn't much gray, neither; and vet the girls all called me auntie, and sort of come to me with their troubles, even then. There was one in particnlar that seemed to set great store by what I said, and was always wanting my opinion, | if she so much as bought a pocket handkercher, “fAunt Jemima's got so much ex- | perience,” she used to say. ‘She's a | first-rate judge of things.’ i *“ Well, one day she was shopping, and I with her as usual. She was going to buy a silk dress,and let me tell | you, my dear, that it was not a trifling | matter to buy a silk dress in those days. | *“ Folks were different then—they did not throw their money away, but sort of thought it over a spell before they spent it, and tried to be sure that they got the worth of what they gave. There | was a great pile of silks on the counter | that had been opened, displayed and pushed aside ; the clerk was fetching a lot more, and yet Fanny (that was her name) didn’t seem any nearer being pleased than when she first started in. “You've got a notion in your own mind, and nothing here strikes your faney, isn't that so? “Why, yes,” she admitted, and tried to describe a dress she had seen at a young friend's the week before. i *“ It was a costly brocade, and far be- | yond the contents of Fanny's purse to purchase it; but, as a perverse whim would have it, that was the only kind | ehe liked or cared for. “ “What color was it ©” I asked. *Bhe began to tell, but I couldn't nite make it out from her description. Just then the young man, who was well nigh exhausted rolling and unrolling— and we could scarcely see him behind the piles he had raised around him— opened a piece that I thought mighty fine. It wasn’t just exactly a brocade, but yet it had a small figure in it; its color was changeable—green and blue ; and it was what I called a good, service- able article. “ There, Fanny,’ says I, ‘what do you think of that # “‘La! I don’t know,’ says she, a-rais- ing her eyebrows kind o' eritical-like ; ‘it isn’t just my idea.’ “The poor young man was shifting from one foot to the other; he looked as uncomplaining as Patience herself, and I guess he'd been glad of a monu- peel or anything else to sit on for a i i spe . i $ “As you read in stories, it's a great privilege to wait on a really pretty vo miss, but just consider how you'd like it if you were a clerk, and your tea- time was passing unnoticed, while your customer, however nice-looking "she might be, kept shrugging her shoulders at everything, and you nearly one of them. * Why, how nice you | look I” says she, coming up to me when I went into the parlor. “I declare equal to the genuine article I” I didn't understand her. ** This is real silk, Miss Dare,” says I, feeling dreadfully uncomfortable. “Oh, ves, I know!" she returned, winking and laughing; | “but really now, it doesn't look at all bad. Any one, in a poor light, would take those water-stains for changeable | shades.” Then I saw her whisper to the other girl, and set the story going. Wasn't that ill-patured in her, Aunt Jemima! exclaimed Fanny, in a burst of indignart weeping. ‘“1 agreed with her about the young lady's temper. To tell the truth, I| never did set much store hy the family and when they were found ont, some night leaving piles of unpaid bills and rent of their honse and furniture still | due), I wasn't among the astonished | part of the community, I hadn't ex- invite you to their house to make yon | miserable sin't generally of much aec- count. “ But, you see, this little occurrence kind of set Fanoy against that dress, | Of course, any one with half an eye | could see it wasn't one of the sp'iled silks; | but Fanny was very pretty and had lots | of admirers—two 18 that are apt to make enemies of other young women, and she had her share. : * Among them, Mary Dares story got | the 3% t t oR Ang wasn't one of the lot who was not ready to say the worst she conld of Mary's veracity, they all somehow agreed to accept this story of the silk dress. “Does that strike yon as strange, Gussie ? Just think a bit, and youn will remember a dozen such cases in your own knowledge. ‘“ But to go en with Fanny's green silk, that I had advised her to buy. She soon heard the story, and vowed she would never wear ‘the unfortunate old thing’ again. * Of course, that was only silly talk. out riding with Judge Stanley's | Miss Jessie Stanley, the judge's | 5 family. everywhere with her aunt, Miss Parker, | who was Mrs. Stanley's sister, and a | most elegant lady, so every ome in | Waterford eaid. | “Fanny was the very first they had | asked to share their drives, and I was | glad of it, seeing how uncomfortable she felt over the Dares’ story. [ sort of took a peek or two out of my win- dow, which ain't justas handy as I could wish for noticing that way, but I man- aged to gel a glimpse of Fanny, in a white chip hat, with daisies, and a black jacket, and though the judge's family looked grand enough, 1 thought she hadn't no need to hang her head. i “Bat there's no relying on the | humors of young folks. I had run over | to sit a bit with her mother, when she | came all in a flurry, She did not see me at first, and so broke out, in a half- crying tone : “I wish I had never seen this horrid | green silk that Aunt Jemima advised | me to buy. Just think! Miss Jessie | had a delicate blue French muslin on, | and Miss Parker's was a lovely buff, | and my changeable green just killed them both. Miss Jessie s=aid so her- self, and I know she will never invite me again.’ “ ‘Fanny! cried her mother; but Fanny saw me, and altered her tone. “+f don’t mean to be cross, Aunt Jemima," says she, ‘but this dress seems bound to make me unhappy. | i i i 1 1 cool and elegant in their exquisite French muslins and Valenciennes laces, while I must have seemed like a com- mon country girl baside them in this “¢ And yet that same silk cost a right smart price,’ says I, ‘and it is real pretty, too, to my thinking.’ “¢] just hate it!" says Fanny, burst- ing into tears again, ‘I know the Stanleys have heard Mary Dare's story about it's being damaged thirty-cents a- yard things. Sue Foxly, the dress. maker, told them. She was there sew- ing, and she's a shameless gossip.’ “¢8o much the better,” says Fann y's mother. ‘Nobody credits a story- teller.’ “Oh, yes, they do! cries Fanny. ‘She get's half her custom for the amount of gossip she carries.’ ” “Why, Aunt Jemima!” exclaimed Gussie, “that seems just like Patsy Hare. We all know she carries tales, but it is so amusing to listen to her, that we all get her to sew for us. Of course we don’t believe half she says, ” Aunt Jemima shook her head, with a twinkle in her eye. “I shouldn't wonder if Patsy Hare | some kin to Sue Foxly,” says she ; “but which half of Patsy's tales do yon sive eredit to, Gussie ?” Gussie langhed and couldn't tell, then Aunt Jemima went on : “After that awhile, young Philip Stanley comes back from Europe. He smother yourself in piles of goods, had been studying how to be a doctor that color in her own pretty gown. “iy t wasn't just that—for your ma 4 iy 4 between them damp girls, in | ¥, i fin 3 did set her off like, ¥ Way, I told her so when she Con: plained to me about i was a habit she'd same tim fl spoke to ¥ pa for her, “i Well,’ says I, ‘you're a girl in luck, Fanny; an thankful for an ie s{rve il, never ¢a And now 1 tha ng p i % gran d 3 me Aunt Jemima about that green silk; say, for it's the living Don’t never ask my advice any lor 4 to I ha 4 OG iV © wea 1¥3 1 again i intend nd t never again 21ve 1t 10 no one kent my word. . . “ i Susu Lrassie, don't come qui Hush! 1't r the window's . ’ 5 a ncise! Ren ther sere there Hunter ¢ if { 1 “1 mve ng but 1 pes have my opinions A ————————— The Tides, These phenomena have, in exc ited curiosity, and in many is they have produced wonder at t tiaordinary height and ’ { the soldiers of Alexander the Crreat, who were natives of the Mediter- ranean shores, that when the y reached of the Indian ocean, and saw its waters rolling up to a great height, and then flowing back, twice every day, they became alarmed, and attributed the phenomena to a special interposition of the deit 1 ATL He Of try which they had invaded. 08 1 114 th 13 confines Wi 3 ies of t un Various regarding the tides. Many of these are truly so absurd that it is hardly worth while to refer to them. Persons find it difficult to understand why the tides are higher at one time than another, and why they rise to the height of in the ports of Bristol, Eng land, and 8t. Malo, France, and only | rise to a few feet in height at New York 16Y are scarcely perceptible in the Baltic and other seas Descartes was the first who advanced the theory that the tides were due to the influence of the moon. but Newton was the first who worked out the problem and trne cause. Descartes believed that the moon acted on the waters of the ocean by pressure; Newton demon- tions of both the sun and moon, If the earth had no moon the attraction of the sun would produce two tides every day. but their ebb and flow would take place at the same hours, not varying as thoy do. These tides would also ba much smaller than those of the moon. Al though the mass of the sun is far greater than that of the moon, and though attraction is in proportion to the mass, yet it is also Inversely as the square of the distance. As the sun, There are really the time, the solar only as it influences the height of the tidal wave. That cansed by the moon is three times greater than that of the sun, and it fol- lows the moon's motion around the earth, rising and falling twelve hours, and each succeeding tide later by three- quarters of an hour than the preceding A PRETTY ROMANCE, How a Poor Girl Captured a Milllonalress A Miory Often Told In New Yark Upper Tendam, A New York correspondent tells this | story of how William H. Vanderbilt, { the railroad magnate, won his wife There is a very pretty romance about the marriage of William H. Vanderbilt, {dr., to Miss Alva Smith, the story of { which is often teld in upper tendom. The young lady and her sisters were | attending school at Farmington, Mass, {in Miss Porter's academy, whenoe Nellie Grant was expelled for insnbordiua tion. While at school Miss Bmith suddenly received word that her father had made an unlucky venture, that his { fortune had gone up in and that she and her sister n i {of the term, then near it a balloon, ast at the end B ¢lose, gO at in Virginia, there to remain until their father could summon them North again, This was not suited at all to the tastes of a mademoiselle conscious of her own | attractions, and she determined to make venture for her own ae connt. She borrowed some mor { from her and made an arrangement her to go to Rich. flald Springs for a few weeks, so that when she appeared there she had as a | duenna a well-known and this piqued the curiosity of the young men about the resort. There was a coterie of New York girls there. A Miss T-—, daughter of a broker, a Miss O—, daughter of a rich brewer, and | several others, who knew of the misfor | tune of the Smiths, and who also tried to make}it appear that the young Miss : Smith no long: r deserved a place in the ranks of the nouveau riche, as her | father had *‘gone up.” Mr. William Vanderbilt, Jr., came up to the Springs to attend a ball, and the New York | girls were all in a flutter, because each desired to captare the son of the | great millionaire, Miss Smith took i: {the situation ata glunoe, | she had 1othing to wear, and she had only $40 Nhe HO POSes Miss to bay a dress, and Miss T—, hav- big stock of dresses and a small pin-money, was ready to her. She wasn't, however, in lined to part with anything that would ' g to Miss Smith, and accord: y she selected a yellow silk wit! wot in front, and offer a Smith's forty do hat Miss Smith, | fa ay teacher, with instroetress, } i » one wit ut 3 H in her ing a amount purse to § Oi 3 ohiige ae x 18 i i 10 sel ed 18 Hars, being INR mo . would : Miss paid the price, and fair d 1 second-hs nd elo’ chuckled over the bar gain she made. Her pleasure was turned chagrin that evening when Miss appeared upon the ballroom queen of beauty, and in that silk, Instead putting ber face, she had made her brown, and having borrowed ia from her fedachor ad ack fan, she came ont the picture bewitehin Hi i ¥ al d nds MLD re look Smith } QaeRier od £3 $1 § ¥ + a rellow hite upon i. Of mpiexio a lace mantil big bls g bls af Oi Oo too, of ’ i al i g senorita, r coy thie erbilt 10 oft @ hounlde r. used that fan Now York 1 Miss T. shed x nto She tossad tl he glances heart. mantilla strolled the piazs most bewitching girls stood agh tear over the of her yellow silk, and felt that she 1 bean cheated, for she never thought that the dress looked so well. The result was that Vander bilt fell desperately in love, i ressed his suit, became all the more ardent because of the lady's studied hesitancy, and was the happiest voung millionaire where when he gained a kiss and the privilege of putting on the finger of the senorita a diamond engagement ring. Mrs. Vanderbilt at once visited Richfield Springs, was charmed by her proapec.ive daughter-in-law, and invited her to spond the summer with her. The young girl, however, pleaded that she had a dear, sweet grandmama in Virginia to whom she owed a duty visit, and she said she must go there first. Thither she went, and taking an account of stock, improved her ward robe as a smart girl with a little money only can, and then she accepted the in- vitation of her prospective mother-in. law. She confided to her the story of the bitterness of the fashionable New York girls who were so anxious to get her expected husband, and the result was that the mother had her pride touched, and she at once cut the T's and O's, much to the consternation of the families aforessid. Well, all went well. | The millionaire married the pretty girl of the yellow silk dress and the black { Jace mantilla, and they are now living happily upon the avenue. IIIS 2 x C3 ae as eho : i over r 8 ant, and G 3 1088 } SA § has 1y smart Preparing Cod for Market, | Salt cod-fish is a popular article of | diet, but many who are fond of it have no idea of the method by which it is pared. The principal industry of is the cod fishery, and witnessed to perfection. The fish hav- ing been dried on stages erected for the purpose on the shores ol every bay and inlet of the island, are brought to {8t. John's in small schooners and { thrown in heaps upon the wharves of { the merchants. There they are culled over, sorted into three or four piles, according to their quality, by experi enced cullers, who separate the good { from the indifferent, and the indifferent unerring skill. Women with hand-barrows attend upon the cullers, carry the fish into an adjoining shed, and upset their loads beside barrels standing ready to re- ceive them. A couple of boys throw the fish into a cask, piling them up a foot or so having danced a war dance upon them in their hob- nailed boots to pack them | down, roll the barrel under a screw | press, where two i one, exactly in accordance with the posi- tion of the moon, or, as it is commonly called, its rising and setting. | lift their feet off the ground, and throw- | ing their weight on the lever to add | impetus to the blow, swing round with {it, and bring down the stamp with a we | dull thud, compressing the codfish into _ Ten years ago the Hotel de Ville, at |g compact mass. The cask is then Paris, was destroyed by the Commune. | rolled out from under the press, and Four years ago the blackened and | handed over to two coopers, In a trice crumbled walls stared at the passers-by. But now comes the announcement | headed up, and then trundled down an that the new Hotel de Ville is nearly | incline finished. tis a magnificent building i loading for the West Indies or some and has already cost a vast deal of | Mediterranean port. The rapidity with money. oi Sut Jor doors, ir { which the whole process is managed is ¢ times, glass and locks amounts | pe able. to $150,000, and over $400,000 is al- remarkable lowed for interior decoration and for- | nishing. The Parisian journals give a detailed description of the new build.| In the Century Magazine Dr, Bliss ing, from which it is learned that on the | says of Garfield's fortitude: Neither on four fronts 106 statues, each eight feet | the day of the dastardly act, nor during in height, will be displayed in niches, | the long Listory of sorrow, agony and All these, says one jourmal, will be death did he manifest by word or look representations of persons born in Paris | aught but thankfulness for attention and raised by their genius, patriotism jd kina sousidehtion jor i Sout or public service to eminence, and it is | him. may salely say that 1 do no icing to learn that nearly a fourth | believe physician ever had such a pa- of the number will signalize the merits | tient before. His calm obedience and and the labors of literary men. cool courage would possibly have se- | cured recovery without scientific aid had The future can by God’s blessing be not the injury, as we now know, been influenced, but the past is fixed forever fatal from the first. Garfleld’s Fortitude, § i i FACTS AND COMMENTS, An intelligent but young Englishman, now traveling in the United States, says that American seemod to him, immediately after an introduction, to be sure to re. peat the formula: * How do you do? What will you have to drink I" who, while traveling in Chili and Pern during the late war between the two countries, was arrested by the Chilian commander Callao, and cast in a dungeon, has filed a claim for $50,000 in the state department at Washington for damages against the Chilian govern. ment, at The best fish story of the season, one that sounds like an old sailor's yarn, has | It is a story told by somebody belong. ing to the steamer Newport, which, it is said, passed through a school of whales twenty miles long and a quarter of a mile wide, off the Delaware capes, and | struck two of the sea monsters and eu them in halves. This is “very like a whale,” and a decided improvement on other hig fish stories, The Philadelphians are looking a long way abead. It will be nearly a vear before the two hundredth anniver- BATY of the landing of Willian Penn at Philadelphia, but the Bi-Centennial association is already at work preparing a programme for its celebration. The affair is not to be mere flash of a day, but is to be spread over half a week, with prayers and processions, naval dis. plays, and historical tableaux, feasts | and fireworks, and rejoicings of various | kinds, th Ll Chief Clerk Marr, of the first assist. ant's division, has been employed in the postoffice department at Washing. ton for more than fifty vears continu. ously. He was appointed to a 600 clerkship by Postmaster-General Barry, Jane 1, 1831, in President Jackson's first term. At that time there were only 8,000 postoflices the United and the entire revenue of the department was less an 84,000,000 per Now ere are 45.000 post offices, and the sunoal revenue is over S50, 000 UU, % § i i in Mates, th th VEOAr. i Harrison Lee, of Elmore, Ind., being greatly displeased by the probability that bis wife would recover from a serious illness, dragged her out of bed and beat her to death. James Welles, Larrabee, Miss , was equally in. censed because his wile did not gain | strength faster after a fever, and mur | dered her as a punishment. The mo of John J, Giles for slaving his wife, at Waco, Texas, was also the ques- tion of her She had handsome before the illness, but i hat she was likely to be in > : of tive convalescence, Wi e +4 it td t Le Baw { isfignred. The Now York A ¢ discreditable” 1 d resorted ables” coming from Europe to evade the payment of the articles which they have purchased in foreign lands, Mail charges that scarcely & person tx an Earopean | tour who does not smuggle something through the custom-house, While there are Jadies and gentlemen who wonld scorn to swindle any one out of a oent, yet they do not seruple to cheat t duties, n fact, | " it is considerad quite smart, Wail brands “tricks” and to by “fashion. i ud ue an “devices es On Le returns from $ & f he government out of The idea American grapos are unsuitable the manufacture of raising must bo considerable staggered by the announcement that the raisin crop in California this vear will aggre- gate more than 150,000 boxes, In 1878 the report of the assessors did not men- tion that any such industry existed. Perhaps it did not then; but in three years it has reached an annual produe- tion of $250,000 worth, and is rapidly increasing. An interesting ecirenm- | is, that all of this vear's crop was raissd on about 1,400 acres, while to produce a crop of wheat of equal walue 25,000 acres would be required. that § $01 + any On account probably of the demand | a State Secretary Kirkwood this year | requested Governor Ordway to make an unusually full report of the social, | financial and industrial condition of that Territory. The report shows that there has been during the past year a very large increaso-—estimated at nearly | 50,000 tory by the emigration of for the most | part, industrious and intelligent set- | tlers. The total valuation of property | in the Territory has nearly doubled. | The finances of the Territory are in ex- cellent condition, bonds selling at from three to five per cent. premium, ~in the population of the Terr- | According to a bulletin issued from | the census office the gross area of the | United States, exclusive of Alaska, which cannot be measured with sny ap- | proach to aceuracy, is 3,025,600 square | miles, of which 17,200 are coast waters | —such as bays, sounds and gulfs— | 14,500 rivers and smaller streams, and | 23,900 lakes and ponds. This makes the total water surface 55,600 square miles, | und the total land surface 2,970,000, The six largest States, named in their order, are Texas, California, Colorado, | The six | beginning with the | smallest States, i nectiont, New Jersey, Massachusetts and New Hampshire, ! China seems destined to attain to a | higher civilization than that preached | by Confucius, A correspondent in Can- | ton writes that steamship lines are being extended, telegraph lines are | being built in all directions, and rail- | roads are projected to connect all the | important cities. The arts of war, too, | are not neglected. arsenals are being established, and in army and navy. Another evil con- | comitant of civilization is the growth of the opium traflic. Importation of the drug is carried on largely in Chinese vessels, and each year marks a great increase in the area of land in China According to a person who signshim- self ** Blake, astronomer,” there are to be warm times next summer. Blake “Qotober 11, 1877, was superior planetary conjunction; toere was then a change in the inclination of the earth to the sun—in the inclination of the axis of the earth to the sun, The zones of the earth were changed. The equa- torial line passes right through the United States, The mean annual tem- perature has increased two degrees since 1877, We will now have all the distinguishing characteristics and me- teorological phenomena of the tropics and torrid zone. Next summer (1882) will be hotter yet.” If Mr, Blake could be prevailed on to reconsider this matter, go over his calonlations, and ive us an agreeable summer, the coun- gn will just think as much of him, Nights on a Road in Palestine, A FIERCE FIGHT, The old maratime plain of the Philis. | tines (which is another name for Pales. | Particulars of u Terrible Affvay In an Arie tine) lay slong this coast, from Gaza | *o8s Tews.wThirty Shots In Twenty porthward, and it was considered a land | Neoands, worth struggles. This Joshua found. | The Nugget, a paper published in But in vain do we look for the * roses of Sharon and the lilies that grow” in renowned ones for its Btill, we are told that in the vernal season it is carpeted like a Texas prairie with flowers of various | Tombstone, Arizona, gives the follow. {ing graphie nccount of a flerce fight | which oecurred in that place not long |ago: Lhe origin of the trouble dates | Bpeneer for the robbery of the Bisbee hue and loveliness. Along the dusty | stage, The co-operation of the Esrps afternoon road we pass innumerable | with the sheriff and his deputies in the caravans of camels, led by Arabs on | arrest, cansing a number of the cow- donkeys. The Arabs generally sits on | boys to, it is said, threaten the lives of | the remote point of the es cooygis of | all interested in the capture. Bill, | He | nothing occurred to indieate that sny | : the little beast, like Julus, alongside | eution. But Taesdsy night Ike Clan. of his father, trots inequo pede, Plenty | tors avd Doe Holliday had some diffi- | of women, with faces here apparent, | oulte ‘a the Alhambra saloon. Hard | and in long, blue, cheap cotton man- | words passed between them, and when | tles, and sometimes with head crowned | they parted it was generally understood | n the two was intense hatred. Yesterday | | morning Clanton came on the street | pear, while square, windowless, Turkish | armed with a rifle and revolver, but | guard-houses are seen at intervals, at | was immediately arrested by Marshal | whose doors are the white-dressed, fes- | Barp, disarmed, and fined by Justice | capped Turkish soldiers with guns and | Wallace for earrying concealed weapons, cigarettes. These are the police who | While in the courtroom Wyatt Earp are supposed to guard the road; but to | t.1d him, ss he had made threats ag inst our observation no guard is needed, | his life, he wanted him to make his except in the dark mountain passes, | fight, to say how, when and where he and there Turkish engineering has been | would fight, and to get his crowd, and | careful to have as few guard-houses as | he (Wyatt) would be on hand. In reply | wood, are met in the way. Some ruins, | that of possible, There is not much to see on the road until yon come to Ramleh. Beggars Clanton said: crusading reminders are here, and one [ton and Frank McLowry came into! very conspicuous object. The latter is | town, and, as Thomas MecLowry was | a square tower and winding staircase. | already here, the feeling soon became of the surrounding country. It isover | the day was over, and crowds of ex-| 1,000 years old, and has many Moslem | pestant men stood on the corner of associations. HRamleh has been the | Allen and Fourth streets awsiting the | Indeed, every | coming conflict. It was now about 2 little spot here in Judea is fall of | o'clock, and at this time Sheriff Belan memories, from the time Israel came | appeared upon the scene and told Mar down from the Moab mountains into | shal Earp that if he disarmed his posse, | the Jordan valley. The road is not to | composed of Morgan and Wyatt Earp | be mentioned for its convenience and | and Doe Holliday, he would go down perfection, only for its historic, relig- (to the O. K. Corral, where Ike and tous and msthetic interest. It was | James Clanton and Frank and Tom Me built in 1869, by forced labor, and in | Lowry were, and disarm them. The | deed its rough and stony incomplete- | marshal did not desire to do this until | ness looks like anything but the result | assured that there was po danger of an | of cheerful work. It is supported by | attack from the other party. The tolls, so much per head, on every animal | sheriff went to the corral and told the | on the road. One should not complain | cowboys that they must put their aras of the road when it is remembered that | away and not have any trouble. Ike before 1869 there was not a bridle path | Clanton snd Tom MeLowry said they to Jerusalem. It is said that the sultan | were rot armed, and Frank MeLowry | promised the Empress Engenie to build | said he would not lay his aside. In the a road to Jerusalem if she would come | mean time the marshal had concluded that way, and this royal courtesy is the | to go, and, if possible, end the matter | by disarming them ; and as he and his | | posse came down Fremont street to- | ward the corral the sheriff stepped out | and said : “Hold up, boys. Don't go down! there or there will be trouble. I have! been down there to disarm them.” : But they passed on. and when within a few feet of them the | marshal said to the Clantons and Me- | ———— some Facts About Te In Chins an infusion of the leaves of the tea plant was used asa dietetic bey | erage as early as the year 500 after | Christ, but in Europe its use was intro- | duced first by the Datch East India company at the beginning of the seven. teenth century. About 1660 the first nd tea was imported to England, but it has Lowrys: : Yo :.. | now, like coffes, taken possession of | Throw up your hands, oys, I in- the whole civilized world. In Chins | tend to disarm you. i the tea district is situated between the | A® he spoke Frank McLowry made a | twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth degrees | 0HOD to draw a revolver, when Wyatt | It is raised from | arp pulled bis and shot him, the ball | | striking on the right side of his abdo men. About the same time Doe Hol. | liday shot Tom MeLowry in the right! side, using a shotgun, such as is carried | | by Well's, Fargo & Co's messengers. In | the meantime Billy Clanton had a shot | at Morgan Earp, the ball passing | through the point of the left® shonider | blade across his back, just grazing the | backbone and coming out at the right | shoulder, the ball remaining inside his shirt. He fell to the ground, but in an | instant gathered himself, and, rising to a sitting position, fired at Frank Me Lowry as he crossed Fremont street at | {the same instant Doe Holliday shot | him, bo'h balls taking effect, either of which wonld have proved fatal, as one of them struck him in the right temple | ROADS. and the other in the lef breast, As he | While in former years the English | Started across the street, however, he | and Americans were exclusively tea | pulled his gun down on Holliday, say- | drinkers, the Germans and French cof- | 108 *'I've got Jou now, . 3 : fee consumers, the importation of tea | ‘Blaze away! You're a daisy if you | into Germany bas of late considerably | have,” replied Doc, . increased; for in 1850 the whole import | This shot of MecLowry's passed | | throngh Holliday's pistol-pocket, just 5.0 the shrabs affords a harvest. After that it develops for three years more, It is then cut down, and from the new branches which shoot np leaves are gathered. In a few years the process of entting down is renewed, until at the end of thirty or forty years the power of life is exhausted and the shrub dies ont, From China the seeds have heen car ried to Brazil, British India and Java, | and lately to Southern California, | where now tea is grown. Different from this is what is known as tho Paragnay tea. The latter is har vested and used in Paraguay, La Plata, | Peru and Quito, and is derived from a species of palm known as Ilex Paragnar- ing on Billy Clanton had shot Virgil | Earp in the right leg, the ball passing | through the calf, inflicting a revere | statistical reports 27,000,000 pounds | Of this, however, much finds its | In | b¥ Morg Earp in the right wrist and | 1880 London imported 214,000,000 | once in the left breast. Soon after the | pounds of tea; in England the yearly | shooting commenced Ike Clanton ran consumption for each inhabitant reaches | through the O. K Corral across Allen 000,000 pounds are corcsumed. into Toughnut street, where he was | | arrested and taken to the county jail | The firing altogether did not occupy | more than twenty seconds, daring which | ime fully thirty shots were fired. | After the fight was over Billy Clanton, | | who with wonderful vitality survived his wounds for fully an hour, was ear. ried into a honse, where he lay, and | everything possible done to make his | out of a hundred, the act of death js | last moments easy. He was game to | suffering and sgony, which only those | the last, never uttering a word of com- | Is Dying Painful } Our own observation fully accords | little physical pain in dying. A pre. vious correspondent had said that, “‘as last he said: ** Good-bye, boys; go away | and let me die.” The wounded were | taken to their houses, and at 3 o'clock | | this morning were resting comfort. | { ably. The dead bodies were taken | lin charge by the coroner. If there | lis such a thing as “sand” the | shooting yesterday bore evidence that | | some men pack around enough of the gritty substance to start a grindstone | quarry. Everybody engaged knew that | liar to our race. | their lives were liable to be put out by | “The result of these sad observa. | the pulling of a trigger, and no man | tions, covering eighteen years, is that | Winced or wavered a hair. After being | the vast majority of persons do not | Shot down and the lifeblood flowing find death ‘suffering and agony.’ | *WaY, both young Clanton and Frank Many suffer more from the various ill. | Mclowry still kept up the fire on their nesses from which they recover than | Opponents, and asked no quarter. With most do in the article of death, A very | Brest holes pierced through their bodies * | by the leaden messages of death, their | sole anxiety seemed to be to return shot | for shot, and only when the spark of | life ceased to burn did they relinguish | their hold on the death-dealing revol- which the physician replies : “I beg leave as a physician to object I began my novitiate on the battlefield vate life, and so 1 cannot help feeling that what I have seen must be a fair who retain a good measure of intelli- almost general indifference to their fate, “I have parent mental lucidity,’ dis- CARO foe 1 the intellect, so that apathy becomes the ordinary state of the dying. Of the few deaths I have wit- nessed the mere onlookers might call horrible, there was good reason to be- lieve the patients unconscious.” New York Observer. smi A Slight Mistake, “That's a fine house you've got there,” said Yeast to a friend who had recently laid out considerable money in a new residence, “Yes,” replied the friend, “I think 1 made a pretty good bargain.” “Any incumbrance on it,” queried Yeast, cautiously, “Well, yes; my wife's mother is stopping with us just now, but her health is not the best, and the chances are—'" But Yeast suddenly remembered that his wife had told him to hurry back, and he started off at a pace that would have done credit to a professional pe- destrian,— Statesman, funeral pyre. Before death claimed fall, only to raise up and renew the | to one agsinst him. Who says it dees | not require courage to stand and listen | to the music of a hall a dozen six-shoot- | ers, singing a death march in unison every time the hammers camo down? But these men died as they would robably havo chosen to die had they had their choice. From the wild life | they led, the dangers thoy encounter, {and the chances they take in their chosen profession, it is a part of their creed that they must be ushered into the next world amid a pyrotechnic dis- play and the whistling of bullets, Brown was abusing Smith violently on the sidewalk one night. Jones, who heard it from an upper window, yelled to Smith, “Knock him down!” The next day Jones and Smith met. “Why didn’t you knock that man down?" asked Smith, -I hollered to you to do it.” “Yes,” said Smith, “and I would have hollered the same thing if I had been up there,” —Saturday Night. AEA CHRISTMAS GIFTS, Presents for the Holidays that are Easily Made, Of the many home made rugs in imi. tation of the Turkish a snd at the same time simple one made us follows: Construct a frame of four strips of wood. Let it be of what- ever size you wish the rug. The frame may be rested upon the back of chairs or anything convenient. For the body of the rug stretch a piece of burlaps Next sketch soy wo = with colored chalks upon the burlaps, Any simple pattern in which colors sre well blended will do. The materials for working are coarse skein-yarn of various plain colors and su eroshét needle. Hold the yarn ageinst the under-side of the b with the left hand and drawit through with the nesdle held in the right band. Begin to work either at the border or in the center. A pattern is not absolutely required. It is only necessary to mingle colors harmoniously, A Roman afghan may be made as fol. lows: Caston forty stitches of black, black, one pattern, Repeat, using ved, bine, white, in succession until your stripe is the length you desire. Make each alternate stripe black, of the same width, embroidered with white daisies. Bet the stripes together with old geld. Mark the colored stripes exactly alike, #0 when the afghan is finished each » This is knitted on bone or wooden nee- dles, about the size of a straw. Knit keeping all knots on one side, fringe for the ends of the bright colors, finish the sides with crocheted seallop A preity Christmas cross may be The Cut the sheets of tissue paper into strips an inch and a half in wiath and these into fine fringe. Cover the foundation by wrapping the fringed The effect will be an imitation of moss. A few scarlet ber- Imitation of bronze vases and other ornaments of clay and earthenware may be successfully made by a simple cess, Let the vases be without and of a pretty shape. The first step is to give a coat of varnish, into which vermilion or chrome green has been thoroughly mixed; or the eclor applied ; then when dry varnish over it. If medallions are desired upon the upon this ground before varnishing. When the varnish is almost dry dust bronze pow- | der over the surface and rub lightly gloss is obtained. The green t gives a pure bronze color; vermilion, a copper colored bronze, Feather mats or rags for parlor or bed- room msy be made with sorted feathers one upon another on a foundation of strong unbleached muslin or gunny- bag. A border of peacock’s feathers, followed by a row of white goose feathers ; next a central star of green drake neck festhers and medallions of black and white with any dark ground will provide as = and richa rog as if made of llamatufts White and green feathers from the peck of common barnyard cocks with a ground of partridge feathers produces a pleasing effect, and any bright tints mounted on a ground of ordinary hen- feathers is effective. When done the rugs must be lined with some heavy material and the edge bound. To make a gilded frame take any plain wooden frame, give it a coat of gold size, which can bought ready for use, or prepare as follows: Put some boiled linseed oil in a saucer; let it stand exposed to the air three days; mix some yellow ochre ground in oil with it and the result will be oil gold size. Give your wooden frame, which of white paint. Let it dry; then give it a second coat of white paint. quite dry aud hard, rub smooth with Give a coat of the gold size and let it “set” for twenty- | four hours. It is then ready for the | the frame Take a piece of tissue two inches square and rub one side light- Put the waxed side of the paper on the gold leaf, lift it up and lay on the frame. Rub the paper lightly with the finger and the gold will adbere to the fmme. Let each piece of the gold leaf lap over each show, When the frame is covered, pat over it with cotton wool. Set it away for a few hours, then brush off the | superflnons gold, and your frame is finished, Worsted parlor balls for little folks are made as follows: Cat two round pieces of stiff pasteboard, using a large saucer as a guide ; ent out the center, leaving a rim about two inches wide. Put the two pieces together and wind round them odds and ends of worsted and yarn, putting the ball in and out of worsted on the outside edge and insert a strong string between the two pieces of pasteboard. Wind it around several times and tie securely. Next cut and tear out the teboard. 8 the ball with your J and clip the sur face until it is perfectly even and soft as velvet, A Close Shave, “Yes, I have had some pretty close shaves in my lifetime,” answered the captain as he took a seat by the stove, “Gio ahead,” called three or four at once. “Just seventeen years ago this fall, when 1 was sailing the’ Martha from Here six of the men took out pencils and scraps of paper and began to jot down names and dates, and, as the cap- tain observed it, he continued : “But I think the closest miss 1 ever had was about ten years ago, when I commanded the Daylight. One night, along toward the last of November, we were trying to make Buffalo. That was to be our last trip. Well, that was the darkest night I ever saw, aud the wind blew great guns. The schooner climbed mountain high, and then slid down as if she meant to strike bottom, and I thought every plunge would be her last.” “And she finally went on her beam ends ?” asked one. “Oh, no—she rode as level as a duck.” “And didn't she lose her masts” “Not one. She went into Buffalo with everything as taut as yon » “Then where was the miss?” asked a petulant voice, “Why I come within four seconds of missing the midnight train for De- 33E 8 - il} -. = then will say nothing will it not, little children? The extent ip wilh Jhon futitaions are used seople is shown fact that in 1879 the number of b of ete) SOPRA Io aay tof Dy , py amount of year! J lion dollars. The open aese beginning of 1850 numbered millions, while the amount the credit of [31 all proper means for postal : s bo Beceity as wll a a boon. even more populous eities, ! private savings banks are not wan The united ages of the eight of the United States supreme ¥ 2 : over his quid, —
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers