BHADO # OF THE WORKINGMAN. —— Behold the swittly flying boat ! ! In e>nsclous might It steams along ; With graeaful lines and powerful frame, It proudly bears its living throng. To distant lands it ploughs its way, And to the many wealth doth bring Its tidings from the absent friends; Are weloome as the smiling spring, You see it cleave the restless wave, And know old oosan’s spac) 't will span Bat, cast o'er all, can you benold The shadow of the workingman ? See, ou the locomotive rush With headlong speed o'er iron road, Like living, breathing monster, whom Some uaseen powers onward goad, Through cities, towns, and shady dells, O'er gurgling streams and woodland glades It speeds you on with clang and roar; Ay,'neath the m untalns’ gloomy shades With ease it quickly bears along Pilgrims of every tribe and clan; But o'er each fleeting view dost see Toe shadow of the workingman ? Come, gase upon this mighty pile, The spire of which in cloudiand dwells ; Kissed by the setting sun's last ray, As gently chime the distant bells: Come view its grandly massive walls, Its pillars, halls, and arches true, ‘W hich are 80 neatly, deftly wrought Without one flaw to meet the view. O’'er all this blended strength and grace, As round it zephyrs gently fan, Can you not see, in outline bold, The shadow of the workingman ? Go seek the lofty mountain height, And there behold tne giowl 1g scsne—~ The forest, fleld, and waving grain, The rippling lakes, the meadows green ; Each beauty of the prospect view, All thronged with useful, busy fe, Where once the gloomy wilds were seen, Where savage revels once were rife, Go, look upon all earth's broad ‘ace, Reoplete with art and nature's plan ; Aud there, iu bold relief, you'll see The shadow of the workingman, Lady Delight. A golden haired little girl in a pur. ple dress—you would not nnderstand p:rhaps when you heard them call her Lady Delight, until you observed her graceful, exquisitely modest man- ner, and heard the fine enunciation of her speech. Hardly the place you would lock for either—a tumble down hut, half flsherman’s home, half farm-house, on the flats of Jersey. It was but a brown dot upon the wide yellow sands, where the blue sea turned a line of white surf for miles in a line upon the bare salt shore, and yet there were other brown dots, with now and fhen a more pretentious house, all the way to the town over the hill in the hollow-—Belletown, a rather gay seaside resort, At least it had a pretty good hotel, and summer boarders from the neighboring cities, The hotel was the Larch house, where Lady Delight's father, Skipper Doyle, sold his fish frequently ; but his daughter never came thither, snd could not have learned her nice speech and the gentle manners of the city people. Her neighbors remarked this, and observed that she was “like her mother,” who was intelligent and refined. The present Mrs. Doyle was not intelligent and refined. She was energetic and unrepressed— or, as the neighbors said, “driving and scolding,” and perhaps it is not to be wondered at when I add that the good woman had seven sons and honestly endeavbred to do her duty by them They were not like Delight but they were her brothers, and she loved them all, from the three year-old twins to Dan who was fi ‘teen and old enough to raise the potatoes and eatch the fish when his father was ill—as occasionally happened. The family's only other sources of income were de- rived from prodigious labors of Mrs. Doyle, who raised chickens, cultiva- ted asparagus, made butter and sewed straw. It was strange that in none of these underiakings Delight had ever been allowed to share much. Mrs. Doyle, though the mother of many children, had no taste for the care of them. “I can't putter around all day with the children, Delight. You have a knack at gelting along with them. Just keep them from under tay teet to day, for I’ve got to get the eggs and asparagus to market, wash, churn and finish off a dozza of them straw hats.” Bo Delight, winning, persuasive, kept the four smallest boys under her rule, while she ran with them up and down the yellow sands in the bland summer weather, When she was six teen, taller and » little more sedate, she often chanced to meet Rick Re vere, who strolled with them, or took them out in his boat. The Rovere were more prosperous than the Doyles; they had more fishing-boats, a larger farm; and then Grandame Revere was Delight’s godmother. It was she who gave Delight her pratty purple dresses—in the autumn a fine merinos in the spring an organdie ; taught her to sew exquisitely and encouraged her taste for flowers. Bhe was a splendid old lady, portly and brave In snowy caps ; and Riek had her blue eyes and handsome presence. Bkipper Doyle's family always liked him; but after Lady Delight was sixteen, his firm tread wus often heard on the bare floors, his ringing laugh under the low roof. He walked oa the shore with her sometimes when the children were not with her ; or the twe rowed away toward the sunset and paried lingeringly in the moonlight. “You'll be taking Dulight away from us some day,” Mrs. Doyle re- marked, fixing her black eyes on him sharply. “I hope 80,” he replied, fearlessly ; and she was fain to turn away, half fretted, half flattered. “What shall I do with the children when Delight marries ?—Tom, and Ned, and Ben, and Will, and—the— baby I” for soon thers were eight sons under the roof-tree, But, come what might, Lady De. light never fretted nor frowned. Bhe embroidered the baby’s flannels, swung it to'sleep in a hammock | made of a fishing-net, played with the twins, taught the others to spell, gg : sewed for the whole family, Oauly she must have her evening stroll with Rick. * Bunny’'ll sleep, mother. I’ve had him out in the fresh air all the after- ncon., And I'll finish the little jacket for Ben in the morning!’ and the sunset would gleam across the golden head and purple dress as Lady De- light flitted away to meet her lover. “It’s plain enough to be seen the way things are going; and I'll have my sister Roxy come and live with me,” murmured Mrs. Doyle. “I'm not going to be left in the lurch this way." 80 Roxy Reed came from her own crowded father’s family to make one of Bkipper Doyle's. She had curly black bair, she was plump, she was coquettish, Mrs. Doyle plumed her- self on her young relative’s graces, As for Miss R xy, she set her cap instant ly at Rick, “He's engaged to Delight,” said Mrs. Doyle, in a low tone, “I don’t care,” answered Roxy. “He's the only good-leoking fellow around here, and I'll get him if I can.” Delight overheard this conversation ; bnt Rick did not. He did not recog- rizej Ruxy Reed as bold and unscrupu- the red cheeks and dimpled shoulders and veil of curls cast a glamour over his eyes. And at first it was only offering civility to one of the family w hen he took Roxy out in his little white boat, the Petrel, which was large enough to hold but two. But the girl was full of animal spirits and buoyant life, which was exceedin g- ly attractive; it was plain that Rick was soon fascinated ‘““ Bhe is fall of fun, and witty—aapt- tal company. I don’t see why vou don’t like her,” he sald to Delight. “I did not say that I did not like her,” answered Lady Delight, with gentle surprise, ‘* No, but you never seem to care for her society. You hardly spoke a word all last evening; just rocked that dreadful baby —" “The baby isn’t well,” interrapted Delight, “and mother is worn out with toothache.” Privately, she thought Roxy might have taken care of the child, under the circumstances, “Oh! I beg your pardon, but you know I'm not partial to bables. At least I prefer them asleep, looking like slumbering angels. By George! but it's fun enough just to Aear Roxy laugh.” This speech hurt little Lady De- light, Itdid not sound like Rick, who she knew was fond of ehildren, and who had always been tender and considerate. But she only sal: “Yes, she had noticed Roxy's hearty laugh,” and “No, she could not go out in the ‘Petrel’ to-night, and cer tainly he might take Roxy.” Soon, so soon, there was an end of the sunset walks and moonlight rows. Rick and Delight drifted apart, and she never lifted a finger to detain him. “I never knew why he loved me,” she sald to herself, ‘and now I donot know why he leaves me.” Bhe was always outwardly ealm and gentle, though sometimes, ai sight of Riek and Roxy together, she would tremble like a leaf. They had come to avoid each other—to look no more into each other's faces; It was far lees pain to Lady Delight at least, to be apart than to be near. And Riek--Rick knew he was wrong. I can only say in his excuse, that he was not the first man bewitched by a wily and handsome girl from alle glance to his true love. He seldom came to the house, but Roxy met him on the shore, by Brant Rock, where the little Petrel was moored. If Mm, Doyle found her sister of less assistance than she expected, she made no com- plaint. “Let him take Roxy, if he’s such a fool as not to know that Delight is worth two of her. I shall be suited,” with a pursing of the coarse lips and a of the narrow forehead, All the little world about Lady De. light could see how matters ran. The brothers, who seemed too rough or too young to understand, were very kind to her. The little beys hunted all day for great bunches of wild flow. ers, with which they burdened her, for the sweetness of everything seemed gone to poor Lady D light, Ben, next older, who hated to work in the gar den, faithfully hoed her pinks and tied up her vines, And Dan openly resented Roxy's interference in his slater’s affairs, “Mighty takin’, she thinks she Js, with her hair kinked up, an' her tongue always» waggin’ | Handsome ! lous ; She ain’t no more handsome than a horned pout,” and Dan spoke sincere- ly ; in his prejudiced eyes Roxy was no ways attractive, “She won't never cut me no bread an’ butter an’ If she slaps Bunny again when mother ain't lookin’, I'll tear her old ruffled gown I” put in Tom, one of the twins, and Lady Delight was too weary to reprove the child for bad manners. She only smiled a faint response as Dan’s brown hand stroked her golden hair, and Tom hung around her waist heavy and loving. But one night Roxy went down to the boat mooring, and flounced back bout 8 o'clock evidently out of sorts. It transpired the next morning that Rick Revere had not met her, for word chanced to come that he was sick. “They do say it's small-pox, but may be it ain't,” sald the boatman, who lounged in the doorway and chatted with Bkipper Doyle. But it was that drealiful disease, which Rick Revere had somehow in his intercourse with seafaring men contracted. The town suthorities in- terfered and obliged him to be removed from his home to a little stone house, far remote from any other habitation, whieh stood far down the shore, whither his proud, adoring old grand. mother went to attend him. She had had the disease in her youth, and she would not bave Rick left to strangers, “The small-pox!’” shrieked Roxy, “It’s entching! Aod he was holding my hand and I was sitting on his knee only night before last. If I Auwen't taken it, I hope [ never shall set eyes on him again, that’s all!" “Well, you ain’c one of the faithful kind such as we read about, be ye?” remarked Skipper Doyle, dryly. “] wouldn't have my complexion spoiled by small-pox for all the fellows in Cauaristendom !"” returned Roxy, tartly. “Well you'd better be a little use ful as well a8 ornamental, since Delight has walked herself off her feet with that teething baby!" responded the skipper, who made no secret of not liking his wife's young relative, For Lady Delight was lying pros. trate in her little white chamber above, The last flerce excitement had utierly Bapped her waning strength. It was not the teething baby, it was an aching heart which had so worn on her. She was weeplug now, in a silent, breathle:s way, smong her pillows, * Lonely, suflering—and he will die and nlver know that I loved him bet ter than she!” And now her labors redoubled by Delight’s illness, and dissatisfied with Roxy, since aflairs had not tarned out as she wished, Mrs Doyle fell out with her vister. “You've just played the mischief, an’ done no good at all since you've been here, Roxy Reed. You'd betler just pack up an’ go home !”’ “1 will that!” pouted Roxy, and forthwith was as good as her word. Riry waa soon gone, but for three long weeks Rick Revere lay terribly ill in the little stone house far a way. Besrotly, for Lady Delight’s sake, Skipper Doyle exerted himself to ob- tain daily news of the sick man, Only his old grandmother's intelligence and faithful care saved his life and pre vented serious disfizuration. They heard, at last, that the red flag had been taken down from the door of the stone cottage, Rick was better—had recovered, and come home. Lady Delight, a very pale and gen- tle lady, indeed, had come down from her tiny white chamuber, and was go- ing quietly about the house. The fam- ily had greatly missad her finishing touches of taste and nestness in the little home, She had filled the windows with boxes of plants from her winter-threat- ened little garden, and was sitting by the fire, mending her mittens, when, looking up, she saw Rick Revere com. ing into the dooryard. He was bend ing before the cold wind, She 1an to the door, “Oh, why did you come out so soon —in this weather? You will take cold and die !"”” she cried. *‘1 bad better, I think, don’t you 7" sek od Rick, taking her hand and look. ing into her eyes. dy Delight remembered. * Roxy bas gone away,” she $id, “J did not come to see Roxy, I don’t care to see her again, ever! Oh, my little Lady Delight, in the long nights so near my death, I learned that I did not care for herajot. I loved nobody but you. In those dark weeks I have wept like a home sick child for a sight of your purple dress and golden head. But I know how I have treated you. Can you take me ’ » “I hoped you would joome,” sald Lady Delight, simply. *“ So I have Just siayed.” Two views of the matter: An Irish. man tried to shoot a little chipping bird with an old Queen Anne mus ket. He fired. The bird, with a chirrup or two, flow away uncon cerned in the foreground, and Pat was swiftly and nolselessly laid on his spine in the background. Picking himself ap and shaking his flet at the bird, he exclaimed, ‘Be jabers, ye wouldn't a ehirruped if yo'd been at this end of the gun!" How to Develop a Boy's Brains, Denn An incident in the school.life of a teacher, as related by herself, ilius- trates our point, Bhe had chargeof a school in a country town early in her career, and among her scholars was a boy about fourieen years old, who cared very little about study and showed no interest apparently in any- thing connected with the school. Day after day he failed in his lessons, and detentions after school hours and notes to his widowed mother had no effect. One day the teacher had sent him to his seat, after a vain effort to get from him a correct answer to guestions in grammar, and, feeling somewhat nettled, she watched his conduct. Having taken his seat, he pushed the book impatiently aside, and espying a fly, caught ii with a dexterous sweep of the hand and then betook himself to a close inspection of the insect. For fifteen minutes or more the boy was thus occupled, heed- less of surroundinge, and the expres sion of his face told that it was more than idle curiosity that possessed his mind. A thought struck her, which she put into practice at the first opporta nity that day, *‘ Boys,” said she, “what ean you leli me about flies 2” snd calling several of the brightest by name, she asked them if they could tell her something of a fly's constitu- tion and habits. They had very little to say about the insect. They often caught one, but only for spor, and did notthink itworth whileto study socom- mon an msect, Finally she asked the dumce, who had silently, but with kindling eyes, listened to what his schoolmates hesitatingly eald, He burst out with a description of the head, eyes, wings and feet of tie little creature, #0 full snd enthusiastic that the teacher wae astonished and the whole school struck with wonder, He told how it walked and how It ate, snd many things which were entirely new to his teacher. Bo that when he tind finished she sald: ** Thank you! You have given us a real lecture in it all yourself.” After the school closed that after noon she had a lopg talk with the boy, and found thst he was fond of going into the woods and meadows and collecting insects and watching birds, but that his mother thought he was wasting his time. The teacher, however, wisely encouraged him in this pursuit, and ssked him to uring beetles and butterflies and caterpillars to school, and tell what he knew ‘bout them. The boy was delighted by this unexpected turn of affairs, and in a few days the listless dunce was the marked boy of that school. Books on natural history were procured for nim and 8 world of wonders opened to his appreciative eyes. He read an | studied and examined ; he soon un derstood the necessity of knowing something of mathematics, geography and grammar for the successful carrying on of his favorite=study, and be made rapid progress in his classes, In short, twenty years later he was eminent as a naturalist, and owed tiis success, as he never hesitated to scknowledge, to that discerning teacher. ————— — Steam on the Atlantic, — In the concluding article of his series of papers entitled * Notes for a His tory of Bteam Navigation,” in the nited Service Magazine for Decems- ber, Rear Admiral George H. Preble, United States Navy, gives a valuable compilation of statistics concerning the Joss of life and property in steam vessels on the Atlantic Ocean. The period covered begins with the first trip of the steamship Sirius, in 1838, and ends with the close of 1879—forty years. The tables were compiled from records in the archives of the Atlantic Mutual Insurance Company of New York, and are as full as it is possible to make them, some of the earlier dis asters having passed almost out of mind, leaving no data behina from which to judge of the loss of life. The whole number of vessels lost in these 40 years was 144, or an average of be. tween 8 and 4 vesrels a year. Of the number of lives lost even an approxi- mate estimate cannot be made, for many of the vessels lost were never heard of after leaving port, and the numbers of their passengers and crews cannot be ascertained. The first steam vessel lost on the Atlantic was the President, » wooden ship of 2866 tons, sailing under the British flag. She disappeared mysteriously, as many vessels have done since, and nothing was ever heard of either the ship or other wooden vessel of 1609 tons. This was a disastrous year for transatlantic navigetion, for it was in 1564 that the Avrotio was sunk, 40 miles off Cape Race, carrying down 562 persons, The Arotio belorged to the Collins Line, WIS Ail 11318) VERSA for those days, belng rated at 8000 tons. Bhe was sunk by a oollision with another steam-ship, the Vesia. From 18564 to 1860 there were enough great losses to make people timid about venturing their lives or their property on the ocean. In August, 1854, the British wooden steam-ship Her Majesty, from England for Que. bee, disappeared, and all en board were lost. The Pacific, of the Collins Line, dissppeared in 18566 with 200 souls, and Le Lyonnais,a French ship, was sunk by a collision in the same year, and 260 were lost, The Tempest disappeared in 1857, and all were lost ; in 1858 the German ship Austria was borned, and 533 lives were lost, and in 1860 the British ship Hungarian was wrecked off Cape Sable, and 206 lives were lost. After 1860, however, there are ccm- paratively few entries of “all lost,” and many more of “all saved,” The great disasters of the 40 years in which large numbers of lives were lost (omit. ting these given as “all lost’) were the loss of the City of Glasgow, just mentioned, with 450 lives ; the Arctic, with 642 lives; the Pacific, Le Lyon nais, and the Austria, with 200, 260 and 533 respectively; the Hungarian, o the Allan Line, from Liverpool for Boston, in 1860, with 205 lives; the Canadian, also of the Allan Line, in 1861, with 80 lives ; the Anglo-Sazon of the same line, in 1863, with 287 lives; the Cambria, of the Anchor Line, wrecked in 1870, losing 196 lives; the Soanderia, of the Morgan Line, which disappeared in 1872, with 45 souls; the Adantic, of the White Btar Line, which was wrecked in 1873 and 540 lives lost ; the Ville du Havre, in the same year, with 280 lives; the Schiller, of the Eagle Line, wrecked in 1875, losing 200 lives; the Deutsch. land, of the North German Lloyds, in 1875, with 157 lives, and the Pomer ania, of the Hamburg American Packet Company, in 1878, with 50 lives, Nineteen vessels in the 40 years have lost every soul on board. These were the President, in 1541 ; Her Majesty, 1854 ; the Tempest, 1854 ; 1860 ; the City the Commander, Church, 1872 : cy of Boston, 1870; 1872; the Mary the Shannon, 1872 ; the Charruoca, 1872 ; the Devon, 1872; the lemalia, 1873 ; the Amna, 1874 ; the Cilombo, 1876 ; the Mexican, 15877 ; the Copia, 1878 ; the Herman Ludwig, 1878 ; the Homer, 1878 ; and the Zan zibar, 1879, The first 18 of these, down to the loss of the Colombo, of the Wil- son Line, in 1776, are unclassitied as to owpership and did not belong to any established line, Of the 144 vessels lost, more than half were wrecked, most of the wrecks being close along the shore; 24 are classified as missing, which means that they never reached the ports for which they sailed ; 10 were burned (and in cases of fire all the passengers were invariably saved, with the nota- ble exceptions of the Austria In 1858, when life-saving appliances were by no means up to the present standard, and the Sardinian, iu 1878, which was caused by an explosion) ; 8 were sunk by collisions and stress of weather, and only 8 are reported sunk on ice. It 1s more than probable, however, that a large proportion of the twenty- four missing vessels met their fate in this way. Only eight vessels in the forty years were abandoned; and in every one of these cases passengers and crew were all saved. Of the steam-ship lines now in existence, the Cunard Line is charged with the loss of two vessels—the Columbia, in 15843, and the Tvipeli, in 1872, one life hav. ing been lost in the fir accident and none in the second. Both vessels were wrecked. Tne Tripoli Is marked with an interrogation point at the name of the company, ss though her owner- ship were in doubt, The Inman Line's loss is given at five vessels; the Williams & Galion, 6; the Mon- treal (Allan Line), 7; the Anchor Line, 8; North German Lloyds, 4; Compagnie Generale Transatiantique, 5; White Btar, 1; Wilson, 1; Ham- burg-Ameriean Packet Company, 1; Antwerp Line, 1; and State Line, 1. The National Line does not figure in the tables, having lost only one vessel, the Scotland, which wre practioally in port when sunk, and is not enume- rated, and having lost no lives, Fashion Notes, Cuffs sre little used, tiny frills of lace being preferred. Roman striped silks are employed for tull-dress gowns, Stylish costumes are made with high square shoulders, Ostrich feather trimming Is much used for elegant wraps, Corded shirrings in single ro ws and clusters continue in favor, Plain black silks are in greater de- mand than black satin or surah, Rhine stone combs and ornaments are in vogue for hair decoration, Red hair is decidedly fashionable, and Is arranged in severe simplicity. Eiastic cloth made of stockinet is in demand for jackets and bodioces, promise to be as much worn as ever. One of the late caprices in the way of a lace pin also forms a bougque- holder, : EE —— ——————————— John Harnson,the Chronome- ter-maker, John Harrison eagerly improved every incident fsom which he might derive Information. There was clergyman who came every Bunday to the village to offi ziate in the neigh- borhocd ; and having heard af the sed. ulous application of the yonng carpen~ ter, he lent a manuscript copy of Prof, Basunderson’s discoveries. The blind Professor had prepared several lec. tures on natural philosophy for the use of his students, but they were never intended for publication. Young Harrison now proceeded to copy them out, together with the diagrams. Sometimes, Indeed, he spent the greater part of the night in writing or drawing. As part of his business, he undertook to survey land, and to res pair clocks and watches, besides cars rying on his of a carpenter. He soon obtained a considerable knowledge of what bad been done in clocks and watches, and was able todo not only what the best professional workers had done, but to strike out entirely new light in the clock and watch making business, He found out a method of diminishing friction by adding a jolt to the pallets of the pendulum, whereby they were made to work in the nature of rollers of a large radius, without any sliding, as usual, upon the teeth of the wheel. He constructed a clock upon the re- colling principle, which went per- fectly and never lost a minute within fourteen vears, Bir Edmund B. Dennicon says that he invented this method in order to save himself the trouble of going so frequently to oll the escapement of a turret clock, of whieh he had charge ; work besides thie. But this most Ime portant invention, at this early period of his life, was his compensation pen- dulum. Every one knows that metals expand with heat and contract by cold. The pendulum of the clock therefore expanded in summer and contracted in winter, thereby interfer- ing with the regular going of the clock. Huygens had by his eylindri- of the oscillations; but the pendulum was sffected by the tossing of a ship at ses, and was also subject to a variation in weight, [depending on the parallel of istitude. Graham, the well-known clock-maker, Invented the mercurial compensation pendulum, consisting of a glass or iron jar filled with quick sliver and fixed to the end of the pen- dulum rod. When the rod was lengthened by heat, the quicksilver and the jar which contained it were simultaneously expanded and eleva~ ted, and the centre of oscillation was thus continued at the same distance difficulty, to a certain extent, remain. ed unconquered until Harnson took the matter in hand, He observed that all rods of metal do not alter their lengths equally by heat, or, on the eontrary, become shorter by cold, but some mosensibly than others. After innumerable experiments Har- rison at length composed a frame somewhat resembling a gridiron, in which the alternate bars were of steel and of brass, and so arranged that those which expanded the most were counteracted by those which expanded tne lesst. By this means the pendu- lum contained the power of equalizing its own action, and the centre of oscil istion continued at tie sama absolute distance from the point of suspension through all the variations of heat and cold during the year. Thus by the year 1726, when he was only 23 years old, Harrison had furnished himself with two compensation clocks, in which all the irregularities to which these machines were subject were either re- moved or so happily balanced, one metal against the other, that the two clocks kept time together in different parts of the house, without the varia tion of more than a single second in the month. One of them, indeed, which he kept by him for his own use, and constantly compared with fixed star, did not vary so much as 2 minute during the ten years that hee continued in the country after Snjsh~ ing the machine. ———— Physical Exercise,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers