Paradise. Within each heart there lies apart From all its cares and sorrows, A paradise which knows no sighs, A world of happy morrows ; A hoaven of light nnknown to blight Of winter bleak and Greary, Whose dare are ong and ewoct with song, Whose hous sre never weary, What matter though earth's pathways glow No more with springtime gladness ? What if each June has flown too soon And left a look of sadness? No real love so tro will prove, No tonos one<half so tender, No lips 80 pure as those which lure The soul to visionad splendor, a Christmas Carel, Our walls are yeni d with trailing pine, And hemloo Dark where we Loodsred berries shine With leaves of aun Yet ah! how pale the sammer's pride, How barren flold and For why ? the year must be so wide, And summer still so narrow ! k boughs are loaning man's gleaning ; fallow Our chimney’s glow with generous heat, And all our lamps are burning, Wo list the music wild and sweet, With dance and song returning ; Yet oh! the vaster, dark outside, How cold and dumb with sorrow ;’ For still the world must be so wide, And joy, alas! SO Dariow VOLUME XIV. Hditor CENTRE HALL, CENTRE 0. PA. DECEMBER €)e) 1881. SAS in Advance. NUMBER 50. ‘‘ Hero's your landing place, my lad.’ “Eh? How? The furnace ‘No, the nearest station. lies two miles up Wright that Sead. come down from Finville in the mom It's a rough tramp through the snow, and there's no tavern at the hu Unless you've got friends there “Ng, no.” The snow, was falling mixed with a sharp sleet, Walter looked out at the he was to walk, The solitude of the loors to-night, gresling | 1 step as light, Our home throws wide iis « Oar threshold lau With clasp as warm an The old-time friends sre Yet oh | the few who stand aside Bowed down by hopeless sorrow, ud be so wide, hs wit} meeting ; And weep that hearts sho And love, al.s! so narrow | “Good-night. I'll risk it," he said, off, The old knight among his progenitors bad not shirked danger; and he could do his devoir if it were be prompt in his work as a merchaut's clerk. He. had high cavalry boots, but the Nay, farther press the strong desire, Th we questioning, swilt yet And lifted ever sirangol Divine a holier snl On Christmas day, te nder, 4 igher, We have po roon For thoueh man's needs be ¢'er 80 wide, BArTOWw Elaine Goodale. God's help ZTOWS Bev The two miles’ walk wp the ra- often from the path, He ss laughed at every fresh tumble, made jokes to himself, which seemed imper tinent in the face of the awful solitude. He had forgotten Just after the turn stomach was empty The Mountain Shanty. A CHRISTMAS STORY, ““ You are to carry the wvalise to the | depot, Joe, and have it checked—or, no, no; wait until I come ; you'll ba sure | to make a ake. I wish——" and | Walter Duclifl turned from the footman | to his me ‘I wish the time would come when mae would take the place of servants. One advantage ina | nachine is { yon In ow the capacity; it doesn't make i pret tentions of being a | rational hu nan bein °, and then fail at | the eritical mi Mrs. Duocliff, a fair, delicate woman, who was drawn close to the open fire, with a velvet tie wrapped about her shook her he and when the | man was gone saa: “ Walter, indee ration {o is po ned to MADD er.” “ Bless yonr heart, mother, you know | nothing about that kind of people. Joe | didn’t understand, and if he had he would pot have cared. I pay him hig wages, and there's not a day he does not have an odd half dollar, or fall heir to some of my boots or clothes. That's | all he needs for happiness. “Joe's frelings at the bottom are the same as ours, my son.” “1 beg your pardon,” flashing hotly, “but that I cannot believe. The lower slasses have been hardened by gsner- ations of peed and hard work. Now your tastes and emotions have come to you through many lives of ease and cul- | ture ; they lost them, if they ever had | any, in the fight for daily bread.” “You are too wain of your birth, my dear,” said his mother, quietly. “You will feel differently when you are older. 1t is nearly time for the train, 1 nt it, dear?’ ‘It's gmite time.” Glancing at his | watch he drew on his furred overcoat, and unconsciously passed his fingers over the waxed ends of his very small mustache. * Good-bye, mother, nos yvther went. ur, yon have too little | ur inferiors. There | the man in that | On la QLRIG mo " dar- | r, 1'll write from Harrisburg. Ido hope 1 may manage the business right | and satis{y father.” ** No fear of that, Walty."” She held bim for a moment, as he stooped to kiss her, with her hands holding each side of his face, looking fondly st his delicate features and clear, intelligent eves, “(God send you safely home, my son. You'll try and be back by Christmas ? There is a ball at your cousin's, acd you're all of my holiday, remember.” “Oh, Tl be back; I'll not fail in that, whatever comes,” and then, with another hasty kiss he was gone, spring- ing down the stairs and trolling out some college catch. He bad just left college and had been taken into his father's counting-room as confidential clerk. This was his first journey on the business of the firm, and he bad a shrewd suspicion that it wasto | test his capacity. He was quite sure, from the fact that Saunders, the old | sashier, met him at the depot and placed in his hand the sealed papers of mstruction, instead of sending them hy i messenger, “Do n't you neglect any trifle, Mr. Walter,” said the old man, significantly. “ Your father re quires absolute precision in the least clerk, and he'll regnire it mors in ore whom he wishes to be his paitoer.) Walter nodded and buttoned np the package in his breast, and in a few mo- ments he was whizzing away over the snow-covered fields. The business for a week or two was | easy ard pleasant enough. Money was | to be collected and remitted by draft, The hotels st Harrisburg and Johns- town were comfortable. Walter had plenty of money and threw it about him like a young lord. He was a generous, frank, genial fellow with his equals, and “the Dueliffs of Philadelphia,” he wrote to his mother, “had the entree, of conrse, to the best society everywhere.’ His last work was the settlement of sowe claim in the mountainons ecoun- ties, then he could go home. These people with whom he now had to deal had not heard of the Ducliffe, but they were well-bred sud educated, and Walter found friends on every side, It was himself, he thought, not his ancestors which gained him friends Lere. Row Walter was not strong, and the change from his hothonse life to the biiter cold of the mountain range began to tell on him. When the last paper was signed, and he stepped into the cars, he w.s hot and feverish. In two days he would be at home. When he reached Altoona, then only | ¢ a small wayside station, it was late in the afternoon. As he went into the Fsliingroom a telegram was handed to im, “If possible, go to Wright's furnace and take directions from Sutton as to railroad.” “Where is Wright's furnace?” he asked of the station master, ‘‘ Back sixty miles on the branch that you crossed af noon. The express has just gone, No other but the freight train, You had better wait until morn- ing.” Seeing that the boy hesitated, “ There's a storm coming up.” To go on at all was to give up the ball be and Jennie bad talked of for months, ‘He says ‘if possible,’ and it is not possible.” The next instant he binshed with shame, If he waited until to-morrow he would be too late for Christmas and Jisappoin his mother, “I'll go to-night,” he said, “The freight rain’ s not heated, mind, | “ Plucky little chap,” said the station- master, as Ducliff, valise in band, sprang upon the dirty cars as they rumbled along. He crept into the corner of one and fell asleep. About 11 o'clock the and he houses nountains, saw the shape of half a dozen Now that help was near he felt how ill he really was “ Furnaces, blacksmiths’ shops, he added, passing some empty sheds. But two houses were left ; one a handsome villa, the other a low shanty. “I'll not disturb the Sut- | tons to-uight,” knocking at the last. The kncek sounded threatening enough Wil Car low overhead was raised. “ Who's there #” ina woman's quaver. “A gentleman on business, to see Mr, Sutton. ’ “Mr. 8 Sutton's in Washington ; been Bang! down came the window. Wa'- ‘“You must take me in. [ll well for lodging aad supper,” { peremptorily. “Don't keep a tavern ; go to | if yer business is with Sutton.” “I ought to have done ths at at first, to dea PAY You he said, Sutton's In a minute he was kn x | fidently on the grim lion's he wry of Sat | ton’s imposing front door. There was within, terri. Visi- tors of any kind were an unusual event in the mountain solitude ; but one the middle of a winter's night only sng- gested burglars or murderers, At the door opened a narrow crack and the old coachman stood peering out, with candle in hand. “Who's there?” tongue, “It's 1,” persuasively. ‘A messen- ger from Philadelphia on business to in 1 » 183 broad Irish in a But there's a the houss’ “ Mr. Sutton's gone. wheen of men folks about hastily. “I'm no housebreaker,” edging his way “Pray give my respects to Mrs. Sutton,” loudly, for he caught a gli Dae of white skirts on the stairs, * a sa that young Mr. Dacliff is here ad beg ight. 1 Hn I—well, to tell the truth ingly cold and hungry.” “* Keep out, keep ont, young man; And Walter sultation of tongues in the hall, the coachman's deprecatory and soothing. “Nabbit bet a cleet of a lad, ma'am. No harm in him, I'll war- rant yees,” But the lady's voice was sharp and de- cisive, ‘‘It's a mere feint to enter the house,” and then followed whispers of ‘ plate” and “ nuarmed.” ‘I know of no Ducliffs,” she said, looking full at Walter ¢*Say to the man that it is im- possible for me to admit a stranger during my husband's absence. ” door Walter was gone. Bhe had seen | his face plainly, and had taken him for a burglar. He went over to one of the sheds and down. The cold a: id | mattered little. The insult | from a woman filled his heart with rage sat fore. It was a blowin the face when his own hands were tied. It was the first time in his life that an insulting word had been spoken to him. ‘I wonderif that blockhead Joe feels like this when he can’t give me 1} my abuse,” he muttered. Just then the shanty window opened again. The woman had overheard all that had be eaid at Sutton's, “ dee hyur, you boy,” she called. Walter promptly crossed the road. | He had concluded to lay aside his dignity till a warmer and less hungry | time. “It's a plaguey risky thing to take you. There's nobody hyur bat me and | my da'ter,” she said, f the window. “1 have every respect for you aad | your daughter, madam.” “ Well, it’s certain you ll ireezeo if you | stay cut there. I'll venture it.” She | came downstairs and opened the door, which her raw-boned figure quite filled. Beyond it he saw a smoldering fire on | the hearth. Jennie's ball, with all light and brilliancy ard music, was dull MOK its warm hearth. “I haven't another bed,” she said, “and not much in the way of a supper, a loaf of bread and some cold bacon. “Lord sakes alive! Why, you're nigh outo starved,” as she watched him eat, “The disease is soon cured,” he said, with his mouth full. ‘“‘And if yoUW'll give me a bit of blanket or carpet I’ 1 | dry my clothes and sleep here on the | floor.” “You're easy pleased,” suspiciously | en satisfied that she could ** scrunch him with one hand,” she added: “You're not the sort o’ build they make house- breakers of. Them Suttons is a low, unchristian 1 t, for all their money.” * It was quite right for the lady to be on her guard,” Walter replies, hanght- ily, standing by his order. “ Well, there's my old man’s breeches Just hang your own to dry, and wrap yourself in this rug.” She returned upstairs, and it seemed to Walter but a moment before he was stretched before the blaze, dry, and floating off in a delicious dream. “No trains stop at this s‘ation until to-night, you say?’ he demanded, as he rose from breakfast next morning, ‘““No. You've got to wait. As to crossing the hill to Wayne's station, you might do it in the summer, but it’s im- possible now. The express train stops there at noon.” ‘‘How far is it?” ‘It’s impossible, I tell you! It's only about eight miles, but the snow is waist deep. The road lies along the old track.” The ‘old track” was the line of the Pennsylvania Central railroad around a hill, e rails had been removed, but conductor shook him: the cross-ties still remained on the and after a few rods found it very pleas walking. He came back for his valise, ‘I'm going to try it," he called over the cow yard fenoe to his hostess, who was milking “The more fool you in half an hour.” It was in the day of gold pieces, put a couple in her hand ‘1 eannet pay fyou for your kindness," he then said, shaking 1t cordially, 3 ant You'll be back He “All right. We've got to help each other, yon But [ doa't tik money: I keep tavern no m than the 8 giving him | money Walter langhe id, § 14] d pas 1X girl in the road put it to her I'he woman called out a'ter he'd be back in half an hour. The sun was shining through a sil very gray mist when he started. In an hour the mist was wet and impenetra ble, and as for the sun, it was gone. A mountaineer would have hurried shelter, but Walter marched on shout ing the Marseillaise. How long he wandered in that short ut he pever knew, "The gray, branch ess trunks of oaks and bire hes stretohed heir thick ranks to the horizon soft snow lay beneath, white and track loss + the sh arp sleet out his face and took Lis breath, He strapped his valise 118 bau +k and plodded, his face white Alle 1 tooth set, It grew darker; ROOW, don't re atton's,"” wok the the little pocket. ii WR him C¢ i i ¢ + the on and it was only when the moon came out—now low down th slope of the sky—that he realized b had been wandering all day and far into the night. Another hour passed. The snow rose higher about his body ; half crazed as he was, it seemed a living grave creeping up to cover him ; it was a matter of life and death for Qn. “ But I cannot go on," he said, vhite lips. An awful shiver im ; for the first time in his life { lI of hi limbs, He look: d into the clouds with the feeling God was there somewhere. If be knew Him better he would pray to Him. But it was a long time since he had known pray ; like many college boys h et ought that was a matter for wom shildren more than f He unstrapped the valise an under a deal tree, and the 3 down besid now was soft and warm; he not against him to go . $3 " Hay BQ? yi yy PANTO Low © } Ae! eit. 1hes ald ght ness, h, then,” he t of the ay his m come it § and soldierly courage, he only thought how eomfortabl snow was—warm as a feather be i his feet were only dry! The feathery flakes began to | fall on his face. Suddenly, but a little way off, a roar Ig voice bega An to sing: her, an the If aud sat : death moved 1 neasily hargy of coming him; he kuew th here was a chance for life; sweeter. He sank down 3 the boy remembered his promise tnpg him like a spur. He got up, clapped his arms weakly to bring Posk the cironlation, and staggered on a few steps. Before him was a low hat, of unplaned boards, pouring through a pipe in ough it but rest AgaIn Lpon 3 16 constructed 3 SMOoEe roof. Oh! In the vaios convaui The voice was and drank “Nome blo thirsty cut-throat, thought Walter. *“ Who else would be watching at this time of night ?’ He took off his seal ring, watch and diamond searf-pin dropped them into his boots, There was no use of tempting him to murder. Then he w alked on and pushed open the door. “God save us!" shouted a kindly voice, and with the next breath Walter felt himself in a pair of strong arms and carried like a baby to the fire. The heat overpowered him. He tried to speak and then he lay as if dead on the man's knees, * * - * “And it Jim?” “ Christn soup, Now. ami a ly gold i n wal " * A * - 8 Christmas day, you say, m8 it is, Here's your hot Be the powers! it'll be the job to streteh the provisions till to-morrow, you youl" Walter laughed and drow himself juickly up in bed, leaning against the man's br while he ate the steam ing mutton broth out of a crock. “I never tasted anything so good,” soaking the last drops into a crust, “Well, three days ago, when ye came in that dare, I thought it was yer coffin I'd be makin’ fur yees instead of soup.” greedy young gossgoor east, | back and settled his head, stroking back his hair, . fingers black, to ba sure, bat gentle as a woman's. On a chair by he fire hung Walter's clothes, clean and , but ragged with dragging through briars and rocks, “If it hadn't been for you, Jim, I'd have needed u coffin, sure enough,” said Walter 4 Bo jabbers, I thought you collier’s boy from the pit. There's one there has just the cut of your face. When 1 found your jewelry I know'd ‘There it is, by-the- were a bye, on.the shelf.” He handed it to Walter, but Je boy he be i, his. “Oh, Jim!” he eried. he said: © After a while You couldn't have done more Jim jerked his hand away with =a ‘“ Bicksh!” He was not given to talk- { ing sentiment. “ D'ye suppose any ‘uan ud sit still said, graflly; but he was pleased. Walter He lay wondering why he had become so fond of this man, who was nothing but an Irish laborer set to watch the railroad by which the hut stood. It was not only that he had saved his life; it was for the strength humor that lay under his dirt and ig- norance, “Bo you thought I was a collier boy,” he said, presently. “W hy, I am one of the Dacliffs of Philadelphia, Jim.” “All blood relations to me Lord Donamore!” he sang. Walter's face grew red but he langhed. The shriek and whistle of the train was heard just then, and Jim disap. peared with his flag, but came back grinning with delight and carrying a basket. “I told the stoker about you yesterday and he fetched a bit of beef, and his old woman sent you some tay, and the fireman brought you a chicken. By golly, we'll have a Christmas dinner after all.” “ Why, they never saw me,” cried Walter. “I reckon we've all got to help each other,” said Jim, grufily, cutting up his chicken, “ Father Forbes said on Son- day that that was the rale meanin’ of Christmas day.” It ne Jen Lis The meaning of Christmas ! vel had any meaning to him beyond nie's ball and some pretty gift to mol her, Could it mean this these people showed him, that for Jim, that he would feel for man, perhaps, if he but knew better and nearer? Could it be which the Child had to who had His birth 10 8 meaner than this, among more ignorant and poor? I'he long winter cooked and nt vals to signal made a jolly very quiet i Yo u're brotherly love HT falt avery them that teach, shelter come men Jin ter and was lay stole on reed, dashe d out at int approaching trains, day of it Walter a bit homesick,” said Jim, in , noticing the tears in the un he lay looking over the ENOW crimsoned in the setting sun, to the ghy which seemed curiously near above then, dg in days can go; but it's a pity yon couldn't } ne to church with your mo he 8 éves, trees, two you RY thier to wt homesiel ing which Old Time Congressional Perquisiles The Washing glen correspondent of 1 Louisville (3 5 } wppropriation: writes at t i GISCE 18608 * continge nt x pen 3 HS Guriy as which ng sissd] A8 Weoil Takers giRny ADEE, Mw a4 8h reaf were paid ou t prices th Slaton ands apon ‘witho ut show fathers were as ¢ iid in evervihing " Penknives ht by the dozen seals vada ds days wore CASES, 1 died i His temas gressional cemete ns of expens ul were the following d of f crackers, 83 1008 the es for @ th hoa] frugal ’ they nt of a : ney aoon mically that pay ment be made for the crackers, but jected the elaim for the This » had prese: i Vv aed di t Mas s brandy re Claes, mm ame © ibe als a lowig 230 1 mmitiae, aller cogitating the came to the conclusion, por. that the partakers of these lux ; bad had almos time . and so they on “Aor four gallons of wine and quarts f birg dy, gan" At the same time, however, they passed another voucher “for fourteen pounds of cake, 87," and The Oo matter, haps, urie Of 1t gt LOO good i allowed thro th ly “ twelve pounds of crackers at &1.50." The following is in the account of the Senate contingent expen 180%: Thirty-four gallons syrup, fi teen gallons syrup, $46; fifteen gallon 8 fifteen gallons syrup, $46; thirty-five gallons i rap, $46; fifteen gallons syrup, $49; total, 8333. What this syrup was does not appear. There is a tradition among the older officers of the Senate that it was used in the con coction of a beverage known as “‘ switoh- el.” This is corroborated by a voucher passed for two-qnart decanters, evi- dently to hold the syrup. The items for beverages of different kinds secat- tered over the books of accounts for contingent expenses sre cmious, and in the nineteenth Congress hers is one of $123.87 for “soda water and syrup. Umbrellas, congress water, engraved seals, pearl nail keives and toilet sets were then secured by Senators out of the contingent expenses. S68 10r 2103 " ————— Deadman’s Land, A writer connected with one of the Arctic exploring expeditions says : While tramping around beyond Green Harbor, near where I found the cannon ball stones of such peculiar formation, I came upon several wrecked ani rifled graves. The men must have been buried before the frost was out the ground, for the coffins were not covered, but seemed to have been put into a slight depression scratched in the clay, The coffins had partially rotted away and broken, and the grinning skulls and bleached bones were strewn about in horrid disorder, indicating that the fox and bear had disturbed their rest. I spent some time in gathering the bones of those poor fellows into their original resting-place and covering them up with rocks and sods of moss. No history of these lonesome graves could be gleaned, but it is likely that they were those of Norse or Russian victims of the senrvy. It is possible that they fell in some of those bloody fights, gossips of which are still cur rent among the fishermen and hunters of Northern Europe. The tradition | runs that more than two hundred | years ago the Duteh and Russians, who came here to harpoon whales, divided their time in bloody combats in which no quarter was given. Tho | whale fisheries were then very valua- ble and worth fighting about, to every | ship sent out was fitted for offense and defense. Bome attempts at coloniza- tion were stamped out in consequence of this feud. If a colony of Russians | managed to survive the scurvy for a | winter and a Dutch ship arrived fresh | from the south in the spring the colony | was sure to be obliterated, and the Rus- sians treated the Dutch with the same kind consideration when they arrived first. The finding of unknown graves is quite common on the shores of all the bays and flords of Bpitzbergen, This dreary, inhospitable place might fittingly be called Deadman's Land, a name given to a small spot just outside of Green Harbor in Ice Kiord. of Marwood, the new English hangman, has invented an ingenious slip noose, that has been adopted by his govern- ment, which is making nooses after Marwood's design and sending to vari- ous parts of the world where there is a possible demand for them, THE FARM AND HOUSEHOLD, Farm and Gavden Notes, g the diet of arally elapse before proc eding d ARLEN #ii OX gon ti In ch days will remains of pellad Tainted milk sometimes COM 6s animals, and sometimes an impure atmosphere, strong-flavored food 16 Het are ex from certain gas wm OF food or cause it, I'he be y HOUse 1s 8 t floor for a crean aid to be admits of no milk ba 16TY OF mu Ol cement, into which and 1} Cracks Can secreted nnisan ee Sheep should be tagged regu Ke pt clean 1 hey shionld be et avery year, and those in any manner de ficient in form or age should he P a separate pasture and fatteved fi Luteher, Washing butter flavor, The acid and Temoved by washing ; which is contained in not bein thle in washed away, and the does not affect the buttermilk m but the ne He ng & lu Swamp muek is plants, na pape: $580 1n ¢ him 8 ir labor, whicl r DiS eX POnRes incinue amo numbe r- axp én a I'tl during whereas worth i able co the year Jersey keaping 0 nds or more tree of turns brown as if wy 18 k Sard 4 a8 B00N A8 Lhe fected, and burn them at whie spread of SLOppe d. The sound wood only shot be left. Draining the lime and wood ash and the young trees with lime, act Ives, the the disease x} ld goil, the nee of os, pre Yeni {raraetl We have, says the Cincinnati . a Taspherey bed which the p ast reason demonstrated the advan wleh ng. In io fall dead lone 5 up and strewn smong the car and daring tho last winter the coal ashe a re leased from grates and cooking stove were thrown system tically on along their roots, and earlyin the sp a thorough el ansing of vines was instituted. The gr well stirred, and then the dep ashes recomme nded. operation was beneficial or not in checking the growth of the weeds, { who! utine certainly worked well the production of a fine crop of berriss Don't Spell the Meats, flesh heated ¢ wood, ba reduced aharcoa and water, and a little gas matter. The water and gas escape the atmosphere; the charcoal will re main, unless heated sufficiently in the open air to form carbonic acid when that will also go off, leaving only a little ashes, Well, in roasting, baking, grilling or broiling, and frying meats o all kinds, every minute's tinnation of heat beyond just enough to coagulate the albu men, does something toward changing the meat into charcoal, and charcoal is innutritions and indig ble. F rare cooked, fresh, lean beef, and into nourishment in while “well done” and well corned beef need dows to four to dige st 1n and longer in feeble Nine-tenths or more of fam: lies meat much, for health, for good digestion and for getting the best them, Rare cooked meats, “ blood only barely well heated far more digestible and ‘breaks him- self into” the habit of eating them rare toothsome than if tage of n 10 108, % ound was ting nf SIVA Od 1€ a ro Any : v4 i just 11k suflicientiy (carbon) con. enti go two Ones, Conk {00 of habit. rare —that is, through are Recipes, Baxep Inpiaxy Mean Peopmvg,. Three pints milk, ten tublespooniuls of corn meal, three gills of molasses, a piece of butter the size of an egg, a large cup of raisins and a little salt. If no sweet enough put in more molasses, Scald the milk, and pour over the meal after it is sifted ; stir in the melted butter, molasses and raising, and bake slowly until brown. Buet ean be used instead of butter if preferred. Sopa Biscurr.—One pint sweet milk, three pints flour, pinch of salt, half teacup of butter and lard mixed ; one teaspoonful of soda, two teaspoon fuls of cream of tartar. Put soda in the milk and cream of tartar ia the flour; rub shortening in the flour; then add milk and roll out. Bake in a quick oven. Celery sauce is easily fimife. Cot the celery d boil until it is ten. If pint of cream, salt yall lnmp of butter just boil, of curry pow. 3 1 CHOOSE, CrLeny Bavoe, 1 and is 4 i ill piece wh ’ p add a T+ i papper, and a rolled in Honr; let ese all mall piseh dded if vo — = E kS der may be u Filling a Foreign Urder said Mr. Bpoopen- | ished reading a letter he | “my brother, out wants me to buy a razor strop and | present for a young lady, to him," GOAr, wd | received, We st, and | ble present for a young lady,’ Mrs Hpoopends ke, who ng eatni iP tea, and caught the | jr riect | i ald be a suitable present for me dod gasted married woman, if it wld sharpen ‘em np any!” retorted ' } “Who said ir sirop and a young oh arved was that my ; me to send him | + plied ¥ Xl in can get the Now, I DUS 4 Mrs, oppis iH ' Does Bpoope n tinets rising to hr BAY what ind ' roared Mr. Spoop something to the reader. I suppose and legs ‘cause if she wrobably bave men- ants is a present un; now what can nde what Open ; BEX. { the her best, * “ Do you omething for her to went for her house ? 1 Ww hethe Ir lives ¥ she was a blo ¢ I could tell better ke,” ied Mgrs S ne rest sho yoards Or at make? “ She's ut we will Does that hink of 4 4 v Iman being, SIE 10 A ree, ] BOM sl wo § liv ™ RIC WHO Ives 10 A : Yi h light-hearted skips a dod gusted sot ty taking more'n she You want to is preity and she can use. Now 10W pd inted ventured : Sp open. : eg sly 1% the at your idea? legge d bugs pain fe 1 i le in the bot 3 : the spring for s idea! A four siz-cant rose slagpers and a the pot? rhiy seasoned flower ke leaned at tree In his at will do, my dear,” dvke, approaching on eantiously., * Why y of wish those books for a they were dead Spoopendyke, BUS Spot pendryke, Mr. Spoop- “Yon mean brings out and her ma and Ni ’ » 80 a unt Flo, and that's Uncle Jes 's my niece Nellie, ain't she swoet And th t's a dog we whi” to w who that is, I" Pon't want 1't kn and that's Clara Mo Tis And Mr. Spoopendyke’s voice rose a steam-whist piteh, 'm o inflict a suffering Chae with a bookiul of old stagers that all look A nd have been in oy meas’y nm since Adam began to wear p nits?’ ve think of something sensible?” “ Would half a dozen forks be! nice ?” faltered Mrs. Spoopendyke, almont it | lo S'pore RIIKE R ali in't at her wit's ends tt Just the thing!" BASE dad Mr. Spoop- endyke., “Half a dozen pitehforks and Then you might throw in and a cat climb, fence! You've got All you want chimney to be 1! With your hjecis you only and a gine pot to be a toy buy this present Spoopendyke shot and tore down the street with his head sunk in his shoul. ders and his fists in his pockets, In an hour he returned all grins and a parcel in his wife's lap “Now, my dear, he asked, cheerfully. 3, Spocpendyke opened the pareel crimson silk hand- would have made a taber. 0000 op gong to elf I” and Mr. of the i EO Mr chief that “How did you come to think of it?” “Why.” replied Mr. Spoopendpke, vid in the letter that if I conldn't think of anything else to get a hand some handkerchief. Here it is.” and Mr. Spoopent ivke drew out the \phantly ‘But he don’ t 3 ne 8 say handkerchief, he Here's the ring on the next line,” said Murs. Hpoopendyke mildly, planting her thumb on the supplemental word, ““ Dod gast the dod gasted woman !” he howled. “ Why don't he write | plain ? Why didn't you tell me before | what he wanted ? What did you lot me | SUNDAY READING, Charlies Kingsley's Bellet, The late Charles Kingsley, the emi ent English divine, wrote as follows to an inquirer who asked him for conn- sel; You are a sanguine man, my dear sir, who ask me to solve for you the riddle of existence, since the days of Job and Bolomon, since the days of Socrates and Buddha; the especial riddle, too, of | of physical science. But what 1 seem to know I will tell you. Knowing and | believing a great deal of the advanced I do not believe in the of law. “Laws of nature,” “laws impressed,” or ‘properties im- | pressed on matter,” are to me, after Nothing exists but will. will —one, good of the human rece, and of me, among the rest, as long as 1 obey His I believe that He will answer my | prayer, not according to the letter, but | according to the spirit of it; that if 1 desire good I shall find good, though | not the good which I longed for. And law and necessity I lookon as phantoms reappear, but always certain, likewise, to vanish again before one sound blow of careful logie or of practical life, Religlous Intelligence. It is estimated that the thirty-three rwissionary societies at work in Africa have secured upward of 30,000 converts, The. Tennessee Diocesan convention ef the Presbyterian Episcopal church reports thirty-four clergy, thirty-two | The confirmations during the year were 281, The American Unitarian association have taken steps to have a new com- mentary on the Old and New Testa- | ments prepared. It has also appointed | a missionary to labor among the Sean. | dinavians of the West, The Young Men's Christian associa. tions throughout the country are gradu- ally becoming provided with buildings for carrying on their work. The Pitts burg association have raised $50,000 as | 2 building fuad, The number of Baptist associations Alabama is fifty-five, with 1430 churches and 76,000 members. Besides | these are the colored churches, with 00,000 members, making a grand total of 166,000 Baptists in the State. In many parishes in England bags have been introduced to receive the of- forings of the people instead of the usual plates. As a consequence the amount of the contributions has fallen off, a good deal of copper money hav ing taken the place of silver and gold. A Liverpool clergyman preached a ser. mon upon the subject to his congrega- tion, taking for his text the words: | ‘ Alexander, the eo ppersmith, did me much evil.” The fifteenth annual Reformed German church of the N he First German Reformed church, Chicago, recently. Every North- western Stale was represented. About sixty delegates were in attendance, in- cinding a representative from Baltimore, of the Eastern synod. The synod con- tains eleven olasses, 157 ministers, 240 congregations and a membership of 24.- 054 persons, in scholars, A ————— What the Japs Eat, M. T. Van Buren, United States con- the tion Jap anese people. With a popula. of 30, O00, Quon, there is to be found than 1,000,000 head of cattle, only 600,000 can be considered as fit for food. head of cattle for each 100 people, whereas in the United States we have for 100 mouths seventy-three cattle to fill them half of which is eaten by the foreign Mutton of the treaty the Japanese navy and army, and pork are, outside ports, almost nnknown. largely into the food of the people. Mr. Vau Buren mentions that “cod, salmon, herring, mackerel, salmon, trout, carp, cels, skate, mullet, catfish and plaice are plentiful and cheap.” It is known measures in regard to fish-oulture, and endeavors in every way to increase the products of the sea, American publications topics. The consul states “ one-hall of the people eat fish every day, one-quarter two or threq times a week, and the balance perhaps ones or twice a month.” It is their bubit to eal a great many varieties of fish raw, But the Japanese are more essentially vegetarians than the Chinese, aud all the land and marine plants, with the tubers, seem to be placed under con- tribution. Among exceptional food plants Mr. Van Buren mentions an acorn which grows on a small bush from three to four feet high, “it has less sugar than the nut from the chest- nut tree of America, but has the merit | of baing {roe from astringent and bit- | r qualities. Large quantities of these | on that the people in varions ways.” "This edible acorn would be worthy of intro. © hear a great deal about glucose and dextrine | u the United States. and we find from Mr. Van Buren's report that the Japan- | which they call ame, “This is a pro. | rice or millet, ¢he malt converting the | starch of the rice or millet into dextrine | he wanted a ring ? more sense than you've got I'd put broken glass on my head and hire out for the back fence of an idiot asylum !" And Mr. Spoopendyke dove into his chair, and snored lustily until bed. time, “ Anyhow,” thought Mrs. Spoopen- dyke, as she put the handkerchief away, “1 can find out where he bought it and trade it out for match safes and lingerie for the baby, and by the time he gets a strop to suit him I will be pretty well fixed out for stockings and hair pins.” And Mrs, Spoopendyke fired another charge of catnip into the baby, hushing its startled cries as Mr. Spoopendyke, ast asleep, slid out of his chair like a oad of opal. Braokly n Eagle, “What can 1 do for you to induce you to go to bed now?” asked a Lowell mamma of her five-year-old boy Mon- day evening. You can let me sit up ¢ little longer,” was the youngster's re’ sponse,~— Lowell Courier, | i from a thick sugar or honey up to a | | hard candy, The same is sold at a low | and its [consumption is very large Judleious Advertising, At a recent couvention of the stove manufacturers held at Detroit, Mich., the president said: If we would make the best possible use of our money we should patronize ably conducted and responsible newspapers, The news- paper is immeasurably the best medinm open to our trade; the most liberal and expert advertisers testify to its value, wasteful, undignified and ineffective methods, The Wheeler & Wilson Sewing Ma- chine company state : In no department of business is there probably so much money wasted as in advertising, and in no department are judgment and expe- rience more requisite. Twenty-five years’ experience has clearly demon- strated the superior advantages and economy of newspaper advertising over all other medinms offered for that pur- pose. Atrocities In Ashantee, Referring to the reported massacre of 200 young girls by order of the king of Ashantee, Africa, the London Stand. ard says: Only recently—so runs the story—some ‘‘swish” was required for the repair of one of the royal buildings in Coomassie. Now, the “swish” used in ordinary houses is simply red earth worked up with water until it thus se. quires a certain degree of tenacity, But this valgar mortar was not sufficient for the king's purposes. Accordingly, he directed 200 young girls to be mur dered in order that blood might be used to moisten the clay out of which the palace walls were tc be constroted. This ferocious mandate was duly exe- cuted, the only one of the victims who escaped being the refugee who has cars ried the tale to Cape Coast castle, For the sake of human nature one would fain believe this atrocions story to be an invention, though, unforiun- Fr — with what we know of Ashantee cus- toms, and go much on a par with simi lar superstitions elsewhere, that we fear there is a large element of truth in it, even should it prove to be exaggerated in a few minor particulars, The Achan- king's Ochras, or buffoons, are sla tered when he dies, and the *“ king's few drops of the blood of every person exe- cuted, when last seen was a horrible The executioners are men The most trifling offense is punished by decapitation, and so familiar is this scene to the residents in Coomassie that when the little son of one of the German missionaries—who “Your head The town re- The piles of will fall to-morrow I" sembles a charnel house. testify to the long continuance of these army of Bir Garoet Wolseley entered the place the putrefying bodies, still The story which the Ashantee gir has brought from Coomassie is a terrible vivals” which the ethnologist is daily unearthing, If the king mixes his virgins, he is only a nineteenth century representative of the twelve master hagen sank as fast as they were built, vanited into them an innocent girl at northern “nisser.,” The bridge of Arta fell again and again. until the workmen walled in their master's wife, and we are told that, in sccording with her dying curse, it trembles to this very day. does not sitach, and in Polynesia tem- ples are pointed out the foundations of which were imbedded in human bodies, Two years ago tho native quarters of Madras were wildly excited over a rumor that the government was about to sacrifice several victims in order to insure the safety of the works, and a few years paped. In Galam, in Africa, a boy make it impassable to an enemy, and in Bambarra, Great Bassam and Ynurriba Into each post-hole of the gates of Tavoy a criminal was placed ; buman vietims were burned under the queen is ssid to have been drowned in a Burmese reser- voir to make the dike safe, and the life of a widow's son was taken by the rajab of Sialkot with a view to insure the sta- fort. The Wine Press in Hungary. I bad had dim ideas of snowy gar- ments dyed purple with the juice of grapes, and the delicate feet of girls shade of vine-clad trellises in the open air. In my imagination there were fountains of pure water washing away all stains and impurities, and long pro- flowers, and singing and dancing to the sound of harps and fintes. Had 1 uot seen pictures to tLat effect, read poetical descriptions of it, and had I not always been encouraged by my childhood's instructors in this delusion? And now, behold, there were not any had on coarse shirts and loose drawers tucked above the knee, and I came to the conclusion that they bad never seen any fountains of pure water, and wouldn't have known the use of them if they had. For there was a kind of grim- ness about them, burned in by the sun, which’ seemed to indicate that they never washed either themselves or their clothes. In fact, they had a fine con- ness, One black-eyed, _purple-legged fellow, with the grape juice just dryin on his bare feet, seized a basket, an ran off down the steps and into the vineyard, and presently returning with a load of the fruit, shot it into the press, and, with all the dust and dirt of the road still clinging to his feet, mounted, and began to tread the grapes, and soon stood almost knee-deep in the liquor, foot-bath, was to be the drink, perhaps, of palates, Having seen this I became rest of the manipulations of earth's choicest nectar [in obsourity.— London Argosy, ————— TB ——————— An Unlucky Christmas. A curious song, preserved in the Har. lican manuseriptsin the British museum, Jucky when Christmas day fell on Sun- day, and the reverse when it fell on Saturday. Intermediate days are char- acterized by a happv uniformity of pro- pitious augury. Hereis the part of the poem of special interest this year: “If Crystmas on the Saterday falle, That wynter ys to be dredden alle, Hyt shaibe so fulls of great tempests That hyt shall sie bothe man and beste, Frate aud corne suall fayle wrete won, And olde folke dyen many one ; The sammer then shall trete ryhte ylle, If thou awght stele, hyt shal thy spylle; Thou dyest, yf secknes take the,” In the same vein of superstition is the belief in Devonshire, England, that if the sun shines bright at noon on Christmas day, a plentiful crop of ap- ples may be expected in the following Year, “Yes,” vociferal ed a speaker, growing eloquent, ‘* Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty!” “Children half price,” piped a voice, and the orator sat down with tears in his eyes, HUMOR OF THE ay, ont ip sn wb cannot dois York ef oll unless hel focls sight, omar of German em shows & defleit of ust have baits eushistuooteat there.— iftings Young lady guadeniy stating) starting): or gentleman hs nats the lock): Foie y ng a e 1 thought I heard the milkman.” Although there are scattered through. out the land many pemsont, 1 um suits to say, unable to pay for a I have never yet of an + up- sable to edi. one.— Charles Dudley War- ner. All the particulars: * man who wanted to make out a genes logical tree, “Colonel, how can I be hi with my want to hire some young Borneans, bition to o mae, i come to Oi Oly fo vith "tho yemark + This if Droz i Tor the ah —0il City Derrick. . eaWhel, asked Johuny, Suiits 4H son, EE ae Esa easily, Christmas local habitation nd a " nothings” notte idea that oll celehnsiting the birth of Christ. perstition of os ata he ief Ta ant the Orin are on their knees. This do in imita~ tion of the ox and ass to he old legebit, were present at the pang: and knelt when Christ was > he Eaglish traveler, Dowison, in his ‘+ Sketches of Upper Canada,” mentions that on cne moonlight Christmas eve he met an Indian along who motioned him to silence. “Me watch to see the deer kneel,” he answered, to the traveler's inquiry. * This is Christ mas night, and all the deer fall upon their kanes to the Crest Spirit and lat up.” In some of belief is that ab sing mas. never became moldy, nshire, aud his friends opin hot cakes and cider on Christmas eve. They then go to the orchard, bearing hot Fe og cider as an offering to the principal apple tree. The cake is laid in the fork of the tree and the cider thrown over it, amid the firing of gunsund the shouting of women; who sing: “Beat bid as $hé path enow, A i a ll A In Hampshire a libation of ; s sprinkled on the orc flelds, while the chorus is sung : “ Appl lon snd pears with Tight goa turn Como in plenty to avery oe k good cake and hot Give earth to drink and she'll nos Salmon was once a favorite Fou for the Christmas table. Anan old stition, long believed in shire, held that every Christies ing a large salmon exhibited the river near Aberavon, and himself to be handled. No one, ever, was so impious as to capture pions That salmon has with most of the old su illustrated nature's sympathy with nativity. — Fouth's Companion. It is not income alone tha the hotels at Saratoga have to The proprietor of a single hotel, United States, bought during the p summer, for the 60,000 persons he entertained, 87,000 pounds of costing $17,166; 19,000 of ton for $3,172; 17, 780 pounds for82 416; 51,877 oa of for £10,458 ; 20.000 for$4,718; 20.000 dozens $4,269 ; and 68,000 quarts of $2,387. The total cost of for the season was $99,470.42; of $70,000 was
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers