A VISIT FROM THE SEA, Far from the loud sea beaches, Where he goes fishing and crying, Here, in the inland garden. Why is the sea gull flying ? Here are no fish to dive for ; Here is the corn and lea; Here are the green trees rustling, Hie away home to the sea, Frosh is the river water, And quiet among the rushes ; This is no home for the sea gull, But for the rooks and thrushes. Pity the bird that has wandered | Pity the sailor ashore Hurry him to the ocean ; Lot him come here no more, High on the sea clifl’s ledges, The white gulls are trooping and crying, Here, amuong rooks and roses, Why is the sea gull flying? HARRI ———————— Late one afternoon in the autumn of 1845, on returning to my office after visiting some patients, 1 found this note | lying on my table: | ~ Dg James: Will you do me the | favor to call at my office this evening | before retiring? 1 have something importance to communicale, Yours truly, “J. L. GARRETTSON." The office that I occupied was in & | large. old fashioned building (since torn | down,) on Arch Street, Philadelphia. It was a large double mansion. I occu- | pied the right band parlor as an office in conjunetion with a young dentist, while | Dr. Garretson who owned the house, | occupied the left. Dr. Garretson at that time was a! man about thirty-five though he looked ten gears older. He was rather tall, and slim in figure, with a face that had once been handsome, though this was | nearly obliterated by trouble, sickness, or something else, Though with the reputation of being | a skilled physician, his solitary habits | kept the fraternity from seeing much of him. Indeed, he was the most seclu- ded man that I ever met. Having had my office for three years | under the same roof with Dr. Garrett- son, snd in all that time not having | exchanged a dozen words with him, of course I was surpMsed on reading his | OLE, My friend, the dentist, retiring about seven o'clock, 1 finished my business | for the evening, and knocked at the doc- tor's door. A voice ! of | wd me enter, the door. The shutts and there was a lamp the table. The doctor was with his bands sttors I opened were ¢losed, burning on standing near the door, placed behind him, i wantin ve | was turning around to close the door 1 received a heavy blow from be- hind, stunned me; though I seetn to have a faint recollection of the doctor's turning the key in the door ar 3 bindmg me. Be that as it may, however, 1 know, when I recovered, I was bound hand foot, and so tightly that I could not while I was securely gagged by a handkerchief being stuffed in my uth, and then being firmly tied be nd tay neck. [ could neither stir nor speak; all I 4d do was to listen and trembie, for [ suspected the doctor intended taking life, - I was speedily reassured however. “You have nothing to fear, Dr. James,” said thedoctor, who had taken a seat near the table, while he had laced me on a chair near the door; “I fitated no barm to you. 1 am sorry ipelled to hurt you, but 1 had method of accomplishing my t. Before we proceeded to bus- ss. 1 will examine the wound I gave which anda stir, YY 3 - s GE " the scissors and cu ight He then bathed my head i placed a cooling lotion en it. he said, as he finished, *'l suffer much from it Ss saying he took 3 « 1: 3 y $? % § 1 § + Bir away (rom he ne MITHOOW OF wound, Dot The doctor, for some time after he bad fixed the wot did speak, but eontinued pacing the room in deep thought. Ts iw fos vie ¥ * 2 ug was raining outside and there was noise in the stree | 11 was quiet gave the ticking of the clock and no i doctor's feet. 1 can recall my feelings as I sat there, bound hand and foot aud mouth, waiting for him to Speak. At last he stopped his walk taking a seat near me, began: “1 have a confession to make to- night. The confession must not be | told till [ am dead. After the confess- fon I intend to hang myself. The door will be broke in the morning, and you | will be released. This will explain my | conduct toward you this evaning. “You have known me, '| believe, for | about three years. Yor .ave heard me spoken of as a strange man, you think I am a strange man, When you have heard my story you will know what made me 50. ‘*My father was a wealthy cotton | planter; i was an only son. After being pampered and spoiled at home, till my conduct was unbearable to all that came in my way, 1 was sent to college in one of our Northern States and after- ward transferred to the Universily of Pennsylvania, where 1 studied medi- cine and in due time graduated with high honor. fy father's money soon me in a respectable position as a doctor in one of our large Southern cities. In a short time [ had gained an extensive practice, “With one of the families that I prme in contact with dwelt a young woman named Laura Moyer. She was employed as governess, but her beauty and other attractive qualities won her a place in the hearts of those with whom she resided, and she was treated more as a daughter than a governess of their children. “Fate, as it were, threw me con- stantly in this young lady's If 1 went toa ball, she was there; if went toa theatre, I was sure to meet and at vary social meeting I attended she constituted one ' i $ hie the Lie and her, of the " this frequent intercourse ripened friendship; and from friendship, love. Though my social position placed me far above hers, still love made us equal, and finally 1 proposed to her and was accepted. “My family was greatly against this alliance. Every inducement was offered me to break my promise of marriage and marry a rich beauty of my parent's selection. But all their pleadings were father disowned me, “My practice was good and we suc- of the belle of every assemblage, 1'd not have to tell this story to-night. “One of our many visitors was a young man named Larue, of mystery about him, and a thorough man of the world. He most ardent admirer of my wife, and was seldom absent from the house. “I don’t think I am naturally a jeal- ous man—that is, enough to accuse a fiding husband living. “To get my wife from the iufluence of Larue I relinquished the extensive practice I had gained by skill and in- Here I purchased the house that we are house that the crime was committed that has been hanging on my conscience like a millstone for years, and which 1 will atone for to-night by my own hand. “We had lived here perhaps three getting patients; my wife seemed to “| was overwhelmed with he didn’t leave my house, Ile had the advantage by his impenetrable coolness, and he answered my threats with inso- lence. He left the house, promising Lo call again when he pleased to do so, “] appealed to my wife to renounce all thoughts of Larue, reminding her of my constancy as a husband. But her head seemed turned again by her lover, and she was as insolent as be. +] suspected the Jovers would have a interview that erening, as they knew [ would be absent, But I bad determined to stay at home unknown to them and watch. “My suspicions Larue come. They Silently I crept room, and through the key hole watched them. I heard all that said and done, They were planning an elopment, “It was then the thought of murder first occerred. 1 would kill the faise wife and deceitful lover. But how? “To use firearms | discover me, and Larue having greater strength and being more active than 8 wouiQ have the advanta in a personal encounter, I had it! “| would first stupefy commit the murder. “This is (the way I “My wife proposed having supper, and 1 knew they would use wine, I procured a bottle and drugged it, then placed it in a conspicuous posi- tion. The bottle of wine was used, and the lovers were soon, with their arms locked the embrace ol stolen I heard into the par- into an adjoining were correct, went 107, Was wis i » weomplished iL: H in “ihe rest was soon done. My first glep was bind their arms securely, then, with a rope, 1 strangled them as sat locked n each other's arms, after + murder! IE was no sooner committed than I repented it. Here were bodies—those damning witnesres—whal was Ww with them? I could not bury them, and my blood shrank from burning them. Yes. thers was a way! 1 partly un- art of embalming. It was ape detection, | { i nd before mom ing | had the bodies embalmed and hid, “I'he next day 1 informed my neigh- bors that my wife had fled, and 1 ex- p:cted she bad eloped with Larue. i My character placed me above suspicion.” Jere the doctor ceased speaking, and taking & pen aud paper, wrote for a considerable time, He then sealed the paper, and laying it on the table, said: “That paper finishes the story, to- gether with instructions 1 wish obeyed; 1 see your position is painful, but there cau be no help till morning.” He then bid me good-bye, telling me I should never see him again alive, I managed to get on the floor, and I 1 don’t know how many hours I remained awake, suffering with my cramped position, but at last sleep came to me, and slept till I was awakened by the noise of break- tO the) 1 oh 12 es 5 nat the the be done ace 10 es The note the doctor had left told us the bodies were concealed in a chimney, that was walled up, and that his body would be found in the marret. He wanted all three taken South, and buried near their former homes; and there was more instruction regarding the property that he had bequeathed to his parents, We found the bodies where the doc- tor had indicated; and he was found banging in the t. His wishes were complied with to the letter—his parents coming on and taking charge of the bodies, This has been years ago; but I shall never forget thenight when I was com- pelled to listen to the doctor's story. Paganism in Siberim, The territory of Russian Siberia, one and a half times as large as the United States, has belo to Russia three centuries, yet of the 4,000 000 inhabi- tants nearly one half are still pagans, Paganism 18 fostered by tie home gov- ernment. The pagan priests are allow- ed to collect burn the copies of the Bible with which the sup ply the converts, and no missionary hay baptize without authority ore 30 do Almost Any Christianity from the country. A Fav ured Lund. gh The Maoris, with a faith born of long experience, bring their sorely-tried rheumatic friends from far and near: and well are their pains rewarded, for many who have been crippled for years are here restored to comparative comfort and health, We saw one poor 'ad who literally lived in a mud-pool, just like one of the African mudfishes, He was suffering from an agonizing hip disease, and his friends | had carried him from afar to try this blessed remedy, He certainly obtained great relief from lying in the muddy water for hours, but, in his weakly state, he very naturally fainted on being removed, so his kindred thought the best thing they could do was to build a | | hut over the pool and keep him ia it | | permanently. So there he had already lain for months, and would probably | remain until he died. | Some of the bolling mud-pools are | horribly repulsive, They he in great na- | tural pits or craters, and, as you stand | on the brink watching the surface of | black boiling mud slowly upheave with | a dull gurgle and then burst in the form | of a monstrous bubble, you can scarce- | ly repress a shydder at the thought of | how one slip of the foot on that greasy | soil might plunge you headlong into that horrible pool, therein to be hope- | lessly engulfed, The very silence with | which it works is an slement of horror, | contrasting with the noise and euergy of the clear boiling lakes and the roar of the steam-clouds that escape from a thousand fissures in the rocks and from chasms all over the mountain sides, There is, however, one mud-like in which interest predominates over hor- ror. It an expanse of half-liquid gray mud, from the surface f which | rise a muititude of small mud volea- really miniatures, not more than | three or four feet in height, but each a | perfect model of an ideal-conical crater, | like Vesuvius or any other voleano of | graceful outline, From each little sum- mit come puffs of white steam, and then a small eruption of boiling clay, which, trickling down the surface,grad ually builds up the tiny mountain. The Maoris not only absorb this chemical mud externally, but they take large quantities internally. There are several places where a thick dark mud exudes from fissures in the rock, this they have discovered to be edible, and eat large handfuls with the great appreciation. One bolling mud- hole is known as the porridge-pol in consequence of this peculiarity aud i git it swallow enough ale appetite mud-pools an voice Sleain rising is of noes and est natives who vi satisfy an ord What wit! and one ks iphur and co every CARONS, rere ins of ride from the well-baked rom the surface of the lake solored broiling and { pith muddy the silver Roto Mal of marvel creation world on whos our commonpl Ce The sulphur volcano i nk of thelake, very near the so k Termces,’”” which, In t. are distinguished from the Terraces” by a most delicate ting pale salmon color, like reflected sunli on spow. The sulphur volcano pro- duces a most startling effect of color ing in contrast with the vivid blue of sky and lake, It is entirely yellow- just the color of a bright# primrose and the great celumn of steam ascend- from it wed, and all ¢ water near it is tinted, while the rocks far and near are coated with a deposit of pure sulplar. ii ing 18 primrose-h th thus Gold, Gold and silver, the metallic substan- , were from held in great estimation; the earliest mention on record of gold is (renemis where it la Havilabh, “There is gold of that land is good.” 1 Abraham it already passed as weight, and was used for making orna- there lacking proofs tl the rss Rays money Uy 8; nor are hat t was manufactured into man) hold artis The abundance of in ancient times is very remarka exarople, the treasures of 5 when he made so many thin gold; none of t were o that was nothing accounted for in lays of Solpmon,” for we King made silver to be as the stones in Jerusalem,” Nor does this appear to have been bj any means a solitary instance; profane authors speak of the large accumula- tions of treasure, both by sovereigns and private individuals, aarti A Valuable Stone. men 04, Ol pure ver, for the RE | £8 Hem #ii vag} wa This 18 the name of an enormous piece of amber exhibited in the Royal | Geological Museum at Berlin, whither | it was sent by a company of amber dig- | gers in west Prussia, who found the | same on Prince Bismarck’s birthday (April 1), at a depth of sixty feet below | | the surface, The piece is a unique one, | | not exactly for its size, but for its shape | | and its remarkably fine color, the ab- | | sence of any defect and its singular | | clearness of sound. Its weight 1s 3830 | | grammes, length twenty-five, width nineteen and thickness ten centimetres, The value of the find may be inferred from the fact that another piece in the museum, larger to be sure, but infinite ly inferior in quality, was bought of King Frederick William LIL, in 1803, for the sum of 10,000 thalers, A———————_— es MM A The Growth of Para. The fortifications of Paris are threat. ened, not by an enemy this time, but by the Parisians themselves. The city is outgrowing its old zone, and the for tifications are in the way. The room they occupy is required for bulldi urposes, According to a F architoct—an authority on these ques tions-Paris requires 100,000 additional to the 70,000 Jamities hy a Great Writers, Alexander Hamilton, on a certain occasion, remarked to an Intimate friend: *‘People are all acéustomed to speak of me as a man of genius. Now, call it, if you will, genius; it is, in truth, only the ability to do well what comes before me to perform.” And the correctness of Hamilton's definition of the full term is fully sustained by the example of 80 many eminent intel- lects whom the world takes pleasure in refering to as “men of genius.” The great Plato, whose thoughts seem to come 80 easy, is sald to have toiled over his manuscripts, working with slow and tedious elaboration. The opening sen- tence of **The Republic’’ on the au- thor’s tablets wad found to be written in some thirteen different versions, When death called him from his work, the great philosopher was engaged at desk ‘‘ecombing and curling and weaving and unweaving his writings after a variety of fashions,” diction is full of sach grace and simpli- city, 80 muci: 25 as to create envy, yel find that the great author wrote with the most painful deliberation. It narrated that the press was stopped again and again; after a whole edition make a At the tine he occupied the position of Under Secretary it became necessary for hum order that its author might the demise of Queen Anne, and to make known to His Royal Highness that the throne of England was vacant. But the fastiaious secretary was in such a dilemma with respect to the choice of expressions in which to convey the lm- formation, it was found, at the last moment, that the duty of writing the Prince would have to be delegated to a very humble clerk, who afterward boast- the great Addison--found so impossible to per- form. The historian Gibbon, in spe the manner in which he wrote h asked: “Many experiments were before I could hit the middle tone tween a dull tone between a d and a rhetoncal declamation, T times did I compose the first cha and twice the second and {| was tolerably satistied effect.” Lamb tolled most lal over his essays, T papers ong ago DECANE As CIas Des tone ree 1d iii ti Was RCC vs to ti prepa } ! MI) Ie 18 Weekly al wer VE AE stan ception of allowed to enter under any circus whatever. Here critieal papers which carried captive the heart of France and filled with won- der the cultivated mind everywhere, It took Baffon Studies of draft was some eigleer it ready Ces he wrote those 1% ES r the first rewrile it med His man used large size he dee we ruled five dis- column he ALLE, istter-paper, on whic! fie “8 Yt W106 CF Humans, n the first jotted down Lis first th in the i he enlarged upon and pruned his ugh fifth column he would labor, in which column be at jast svrote down the result of all his toil, And yet it 1s told of him, that after this ex of wind he extent O00 1 nd 80 on to the CESIVe MDOT a senleuce to ight limes, on fourteen hours in disco r word with which ewrile tie twentiy-e one 5 ope to finish + senleance, In the early career of found that day was all he authorsh write. As however, in such facility to write several pages every day, Still with all his ge- nius as a novelist, Bulwer was never reckoned asa ready writer, The poet Rogers once toiled for two weeks in the preparation of a pote to his “Italy. > and the note was made up of only a very few Imes at that. blanque, editor of the Eraminer, wrote in such a labored man was able to a ocd, he became ex} ip that he was easily was to write two (sometimes editorials each week, and these were always carefully revised, and to such a degree that several of them were re- written a doven times each. The great Balzac after he had made a plan of a novel, and had, after the most laborious research, gathered to- gether the materials which he was to embody in it, would lock himself in his private apartment, shut out all the light of day, and then, by the aid of his study lamp, he would toil day and night over the work before him. His servants, knowing so well his peculiar habits, would attend to his every want, fetch- ing him the necessary food and drink with which to sustain his physical needs, and thus he would toll on, until finally, with lus task completed, as he thought, he came forth from his retire ment, looking more dead than alive, But invariably his task would not be altogether satisfactory to him, after all, for again he would seek the seclusion of his chamber to re-acrange and make more perfect that which he had before supposed wholly complete, Then, too when in the hands of the: printer (God pity the poor puiusors) he would be as apt as not to alter. in one way and another, the manuscript, until both printer and publisher were on the verge of r. Kinglake's beautiful “Eothen' was rewriton half a dozen times before it was given to a for consideration. Teunyson’s song, “Come into the Garden, » rewritten a S————" “Locksley Hall,” though the first draft of this exquisite poem occupied two days in its composition. Tom Moore, with all his wonderful brilliancy, considered it doing very well if he wrote fifty lines of his ‘‘Lalla Rooke” in a week. Our own mateh- less Hawthorne was slow in composing, Sometimes he could write only what would amount to half a dozen pages a week, often only a few lines in the same space of time- and, alas, he would fre- quently go to his chamber and take his pen, only to find himself wholly unable to perform any literary work. (I fancy this trait of character a peculiarity of genius.) The author of *‘Pleasures of Hope”’ was slow of thought, and conse- quently his mode of composition was i toillsome in the highest degree. He wrote extremely cautiously, weighing | and shaping the effect of each particu- | lar line before he permitted it to stand. | He used to say that his ‘‘Gertrude of | while at the same time he expressed himself to the effect that it was sadly {in need of a careful revision. It was | rarely the case that he was salisfied with his poetry. Oftentimes that which he had written at night would be given { over to the flames in the morning. But any poet of his time, Bret Harte, whose creations read as if they had come from his brain wiihout a flaw or hindrance, showing bnlliancy of thought, with the grace of the artist, is still another who passes days and | weeks on a short story or poem before { he is ready to deliver it into the hands | of the printer, which speaks great praise | for the author of the most strikingly original volumes of prose and verse that ever came before the reading public, So, too, with Bryant, Though, in reality, the sum total of his poetry might be included In a small volume so few are his lyrics, we cannot fail to be impress. fed with the truth of the statement | when we are told that even these few | gems of verse cost our | worth bard toll to bring into being and | endow with the splendor of immortali- ty mmm iy. - Water as a Hemedy. Human life depends on air and water more than on anything else, And yet most of our infectious diseases reach u through ope or the other, It is gn fying, however, to know that Ix when pure, share with food the great off staining, but are signally ir ise ease, Of all and destroy n gen « only of life-su helpful in erndicali i ents that impuri not ice } Le neulralize OxXy- ag axXious is the tv tha by, the por ’ £ +3 He OL Le ff the . vic # on uy ¥ } i Lhe Sil Nost vant. I'he follow viet a reine A i will indicate s of water: 3 A wma tis . plunge in cold water—fo lial uses admit that gh temperature uality—can be of waler ly greatly lessens ih ut hastens the cure. in itilated Limbs, the animation and pain may be until the surgeon's arrival by the part into water as hot as Indeed, in some cases a surgeon, instead of amputating a badly crushed limb, bas kept it in hot water two or three days, and then when the inflammation had subsided, picked out the numerous fragments, and and only thus—saved it, Many i yr external pains can be lessenad or relieved by hot water ap- pied by means of hot eloths, constant- In the case of ait kept ne, #% v3 8 Lid LE Bom rider : ness Of ¥V renewed, Various ailments of the stomach, es- pecially some hard forms of dyspepsia, can be helped, and sometimes cured, by copiously irrigating (washing out) the All the irritating acids and other fluids—the products of disease— he stomach 1s enabled to recuperate with rest, Tbe most persistent constipation may often be wholly removed in adults by he drinking of a tumbler of hot water ¢ red SLOMach. ae ore each meal, A similar use of water is very eflfec- {ive in some kinds of dyspepsia and al- lied complaints, The above facts are recognized by the | highest medical authorities, cnn I M5555 A The Great Eastern. We are reminded, of one of the most | remarkable features of the fair at New Orleans. The largest vesssl in the world, the Great Eastern, has just leit | Liverpool for the Missigsippl, carrying | passengers and exhibits, She will be | moored alonside the Exhibition grounds, {and will constitute one of the sights. | shown on board. If ie expected that | thousands will avail themselves of this | opportunity of visiting this famous ship Besides being a separate bullding for | the display of wares, the vessel will be | used as a hotel, with accommodations { for 1,500 or 2,000; us it will be the hos- tlery most convenient to the fair grounds, no doubt the space will be fully occupied. Balls will be given on board in the evening, The decks made brilliant by the electric light, will far- msh a grand promenade. Everything promises success Lo the enterprise. The managers of the scheme have chartered the seheme for a year, begin ning in November, They expect the trip to cust §75,000, and also expect to make & profit on their investment, She will carry 6,000 tons of coal, and a crew of more than 400 men. Originaly designed for a regular pil. vr steamer, the Great has in her three decades of existence, perhaps the most varied and remarka- Preservation of Balidin 8. In every case the architect must: kneel at the shrine of chemistry. The chemist has been called upon by the architect to make an ink that will fade after twenty-four hours; and on the other hand, an ink that will not become visible till after the lapse of twenty- | four or torty-eight hours, The archi~ tect finds his work continually crumbs ling away, Water is the great solvent, especially with the addition of the acids always found in the atmosphere—car~ bonic, sulphuric, sulphurious and nitric; besides ammonia and often ozone. The coal burned in London alone dis- engages into the atmosphere 300,000 tons of sulphurous acid annually. These agents eat away brick and stone. Also water getting in and freezing is the great distntezzator in this climate. How to check this constant crumbling has been the great desideratum. The lecturer demonstrated the poro- | sity of sandstone by passing through a | jet of illuminating gus a solid block of | fine grained sandstone coated with about fifty coats of varnish, and covered i on its sides with iron plates, leaving on~ | ly a small area on each side unprotect- | ed, to which were applied pipes for the entrance and escape of the gas which | was burned after passing through; and {of fine Philadelphia brick similiarly | armed, by blowing through two thick. | nesses of it with force enough to ex~ | tinguish the flame of a candle, He stated that gas will pass through stone not only without pressure, but even, as demonstrated by Prof. Chandler, ten to twenty | atmospheres. A result of porosity is that buildings after absorbing e¢ffloresce, or become covered with a coating of salts, especially brick buildings laid in mor- tar made from sea sand, This means the decomposition of the material, be | sides a very disagreeable appearance. | In Philadelphia, after a rain, the hous ges are generally thus whitened. This efflorescence cannot be prevented by | ordinary paint nor oil, Another dangerous result of porosity | is that buildings absorb malaria. Hos. ntals thus become poisoned with a uscn 80 deadlythat he remarked he wonld sooner give his child the most deadly poison in the laboratory, and trust to the antidote, than expose him to such contagion, He mentioned many ings that were crumbli as Girard college, sollege of New Y ork. Trinity church, New York. He had dined with Gx s soon after Lhe obelisk was p in Ce al park, and he subjec satbering of the LBA wWaley m : Pr nown build- r away, such t it had stood 4 wd 4.000 yeurs is cra But, in fact, away. He il of clippings ot of it, also speci- mens nd peeled off from inside new capitol during the visit of the institute to it in the afternoon. Juned Alnve. In the village of Chum-long, where the Basel Cl on has a station, the following sad event has lately taken place: A man of sixty years of age was afflicted with leprosy and lived in a hut urged outside the village and live on the hills to prevent contaminati promising that they would always provide him with food. However, the leper did not wish to leave the village, nor dared his relatives press him to do so. Lately it happened that the leper was lying asleep in his hut. His son cage and wanted to bring hum something to eat. but, calling into the hut, he re- ceived no answer from the father, There was soon a gathering of the peo- ple, but no one ventured to go inside the hut. Some stones were thrown at the door to see if the man took any notice of it, and as there was still no sign of life in the hut the general con. clusion was that the occupant was dead, The resolution was forthwith taken to have the leper buried. His son went {to a neighboring ¥ engage coolies for digging a grave and carrying | the corpse out. During the absence of | the son the elder of the village came 10 the scene, and, learning how matters stood. boldly opened the door and entered thh hut, when lo and behold, it turned out that the leper had only en- joyed a sound sleep. However, the coolies had been enga- | ged for a certain sum of money, and came along with the son, ready to do | the work which was required of them, | or at all events to receive the promised | pay. After some deliberation the vilia- gers unanimously put it before the leper { that as things had come to this pass, he had better make up his mind and aliow | the funeral of himself to go on. To | this the unfortunate man consented, | and took leave of his daughter-in-law | and two grandchild: en, enjoining upon | her to feed the two pigs well and also take care of the poultry, A coffin was now provided and the shroud redeemed from the pawnshop. A fowl was killed and rice and pork provided as a farewell dinner for the leper. Next morning very early the proces. sion starated from the hut. First came the coffin carried by the coolies, and behind it walked the leper to his grave, the son and the elder bringing up the rear, carrying the shroud and the which contained the opium. Having moved up a hill to a distance of about two miles from the village, the partly halted and a grave wasdug. The leper took a last meal and then swallowed the opium. After this he put on the shroud and a pair of shoes, and laid himself down in the coffin, when the covlies put $e 1id on its without waiting till the laper have lost consciousness, and lowered the coffin into the grave, A rh EC ry on. lage ad 16 in
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers