VOL. 41.
The Huntingdon Journa'
J. R. DURBORROW
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Professional Cards•
T 1 CALDWELL, Attorney-at-Lw. No. 111, 3rd street.
Orce formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods & Wil
liamson. pipl2,'7l
DE. A. B. BRUMBA.IIGff, offers Hs professior.al services
to the community. Office, Na. 523 Washinton street,
one door east of the Catholic Parsonage. [jan4,'7l
E.C. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentist. Office in Lester's
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J. Greene, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2B, '7B.
GEO. B. ORLADY, Attorney-at. Law, 405 Penn Street,
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i. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T. Brown's new building,
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W. BUCHANAN, SurgJon Dentist, No. 228, Penn
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IT C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Office, No. —, Penn
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r FRANKLIN SCHOCrC, Attorney-at-Law, Hunting
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T B. OEISSINGEzt, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public,
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School and Miscellaneous Books.
GOOD BOOKS
YOB TUE
FARM. GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD.
The following is a lint of Valuable Books, which will be
supplied from the Office of the Huntingdon Jotrattat.
Any one or mor&of there books will be soutpost-puid ro
any of our readers on receipt of the regular price, which
Is named against each book.
Allen's (R7L. & L. F.) New American Farm Book IF2 N
Allen's (L. F.) American Cattle.• 2 5()
Allen's (R. L.) American Farm Book ...... .... 1 50
Allen's (L. F.) Rural Architecture
Allen's (R. L.) Diseases of Domenic Animals 1 00
American Bird Fancier 3o
American Gentleman's Stable Guide* 1 00
American Rot* Cultnrist
American Weeds and Useful Plants 1 75
Atwood's Country and Suburban Houses._ ......
Atwood's Itodern American Homesteads. 3 60
Baker's Practical and Scientific Fruit Culture.-- 2 50
Barber's Crack Shots .
Barry's Fruit Garden...............,.........2 50
Belt's Oarpentry Made Ea5y*................... ........... b ou
Bement's Rabbit Fancier 3O
Bicknell's Village Builder and Supplement. 1 Vol* l2 00
Bicknell% Supplement acs Village Builder* 5 0 0
BogardueField Cover, and Trap Shooting* 2 00
Bommer's Method of Making Manures 25
Raissinganit's Rural Economy 1 60
Brackett% Farm Talk-. paper, 1-Octs.;
Breck's New Book of Flowers
Brill'e Farm-Gardening and Seed-Growing
Broom-Corn and Brooms paper, louts.; cloth
Brown's Taxidermist's Manual*
Bruckner's American Manures* .
Buchanan's Culture of the Grapeand Wine making*
Buel's Cider-Maker's Manual*
Buist's Flower-Garden Directory
Buist's Family Kitchen Gardener
Burgas' American Kennel and Sporting Field*
Burnham% The China Fowl'
Burn's Architectural Drawing Book*
Burns' illustrated Drawing Book*
Burns' Ornamental Drawing 800 k.........
Burr's Vegetables of America*
Caldwell's Agricultural Chemical Analysis 2 00
Canary Birds. Paper 50 cts Cloth 75
Choriton's G rape-G rower's Gnida 75
Cleveland's Landscape Achitecture' 1 50
Clok's Diseases of Sheep' 1 25
Cobbett's American Gardener 75
Cole's American Fruit Book 75
Cole's American Veterinarian 75
Cooked and Cooking Food for Domestic Animals' 2O
Cooper's Game Fowls' 5 00
Corbett's Poultry Yard and Market*pa. 50cta., cloth 75
Croft's Progressive American Architecture* lO 00
Cummings' Architectural Details lO 00
Cummings & Miller'. Architecture* lO 00
Clipper's Universal Stair-Builder 3 50
Dadd's Modern Horse Doctor, 12 mo 1 50
Dadd'e American Cattle Doctor, 12 mo 1 50
Dadd's American Cattle Doctor, Svo, cloth' 2 5
Dadd's American Reformed Horse Book,B vo, cloth' 2 50
Dada's Muck Manual 1 25
Darwin's Variations of Animals & Plants. 2 vole*
[new ed.) 5 00
Dead Shot ; or, Sportsman's Complete Guide' 1 75
Detail Cottage and Constructive Architecture' lO 00
De Voe's Market Assistant* 2 50
Dinka, Mayhew, and Hutchison, ou the Dogy...
Downing'. Landscape Gardening 650
Dwyer's Horse Book*. ..........................
Eastwood on Cranberry 75
Ragleston's Circuit Rider* ..... . . 1 75
Eggleston's End of the World 1 60
Eggleston's Hoosier School-Master 1 25
Eggleston's Mystery of Metropolisville... 1 50
Eggleston's (Geo. C.) A Man of Honor
Elliott's Rand Book for Fruit Growers* Pa., 60c. ; clo 1 00
Elliott's Hand-Book of Practical Landscape Gar
dening*.-e ...... ............... ........................... 150
Sillott's Lawn and Shade Trees* 1 50
Eliotes Western Fruit-Grower's Guide 1 50
Eveleth's School House Architecture*...-. 6 00
Every Horse Owner's Cyclopedia'........._ 3 75
Field's Pear Culture .
. .
Flax Culture. [Seven Prise Essays by practical grow
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Plin e t (Cherie; L.) oil Grasses. 2 50
Flint's Mitch Cowe and Dairy Farming*--- 2 50
Frank Forester's American Game in its Beacon' 3 00
Frank Forester's Field Sports, S vo., 2 ..... 6 00
Frank Forester's Fish and Fishing, Bvo , 100 Engle , - 3 50
Prank Forester's Horse of America, 8 cc., 2vole' 10 00
Frank Forester's Manual for Young Sportsmen, Svu 3 00
French's Farm Drainage-- ......
Fuller's Forest-Tree Culturist
Fuller's Grape Culturk.
Fuller's Illustrated Strawberry Culturist
Fuller's Small Fruit Culturist
Fulton's Peach Culture
Gardner's Carriage Painters' Manual
Gasdner's How to Paint*.
Gevelin's Poultry-Breeding
Gould's American Stair-Builder's*
Cori nter's and Builder's Assistant ...... 3 0 0
(regory 1 Cabbages•._
Gregory on Onion Raising•..»...... paper.. 30
Gregory on Squashes .paper,. 30
Guenon on Mulch Cows 75
Guillanme's Interior architecture• 3 03
Gan, Rod, and Saddle..
Hallett's Builders' Specifications• 1 75
Hallett's Builders' Contr.cts• lO
Harney's Barns, Oat-Buildings, and Fences.
11,-rris's Insects Injurious to Vegetation... Plain $4;
Colored Engravings
Harris on t: Pig
Hedges' on .r_rgho or the Northern 3ugar
Helnisley's Hardy Trees, Shrubs, and P1ant5....... ...
Hend , son's Gardening for Pleasure. ........... ..........
Henderson Gardening for Profit
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ffi)4t ,tortl-Etlier.
THE GIRL DETECTIVE
The door of Rufus Markham's counting
room was securely closed, and the pro
prietor of the large, flourishing cotton
factory talked earnestly with a gentlemanly
looking man of middle age, whose face was
as impressive as a wax mask.
"Five thousand dollars !" said the in
dividual. "It was a large sum to leave
exposed.
"Exposed," said Mr. Markham. "It
was in my private desk, to which no one
has access but myself, and my nephew,
Fred Tryon."
"Would it be possible the young gen
tlernan—"
"Sir," said Mr. Markham, indignantly,
"my nephew is not a thief. If he needed
ten times that sum he knows I would give
it freely to him. He will be my heir, and
is as dear to me as a son. It is simply
absurd to connect him in any way with
this robbery."
"Just state the matter again, briefly as
you can, and allow me to take notes, will
you, Mr. Markham ?"
"Certainly. I drew five thousand dol
lars out of the bank yesterday, to meet a
note that was not presented for payment.
Retaining it until after the bank was
closed. I concluded to lock it in my desk
until this morning, and did so. At nine
o'clock this morning the expected note
was presented, and I opened the desk.—
The money was gone, and with it a small
memorandum book that was in the same
roll."
"The lock was not forced ?"
"No, sir, the desk was apparently as I
left it."
'And Mr. Tryoc has the only duplicate
key ?"
The old gentleman frowned. He was
evidently displeased at the turn the de
tective's suspicions seemed to be taking.
"My nephew certainly has the only
duplicate key."
"ll'm ! yes. You have the numbers of
the notes ?"
"Yes. The roll consisted of ten five
hundred-dollar notes."
"The list of numbers being taken, the
detective made a searching examination of
the apartment, and prepared to take his
departure. As he stood near the door,
Mr. Markham suddenly said, nervously :
"I think, Mr. Vodges, if you make any
discoveries, you had better report to me
privately before mak;ng any arrests."
"Certainly, sir, ,ou desire it. "W ill
you grant me one favor ? Do not mention
the robbery to Mr. Tryon, if you have not
done so already."
"No one has heard of it but yourself."
"Very good ! I will call again when I
have any report to make.
"Fred ! Fred !" the old gentleman said,
in a low tone, when he was alone; "Vodges
evidently thinks it is Fred ! It cannot be !
It is impossible that my nephew would
rob me! I cannot believe it. And yet
lie knew the money was there. He was
here when I handed Arnold the check,
and here when he returned with the money.
He knew that Johnston's note was not
presented, and Fred alone has a duplicate
key. Oh, if it should be ! Anna's boy,
that I promised to love as my own son.— .
Have I not kept my promise ? ;Where
have I failed ? And why should he steal .
from me, when all I have is his ? I can- I
not, I will not, believe it ?"
"May I come in ?" asked a bright,
pleasant face at the door, and permission
being given, Fred Tyron entered the room.
Looking into his handsome young face,
bright and frank, with well opened brown
eyes, and curls of nut brown hair, it was
bard to connect it with any idea of roguery,
ingratitude and theft. His manner toward
the uncle, who had ever filled a father's
place, was the perfpction of respectful af
fection, and before he had been an hour
in the counting room, Mr. Markham's
uneasy fears were entirely gone.
They were talking of a certain dark
eyed little maiden, who was soon to be
Mrs. Tryon, and when Fred left his uncle
it was with a promise that be would call
in the evening upon slise Clarkson, to
finally arrange for the wedding day.
The young man, a favorite of fortune,
apparently, spent the afternoon with his
betrothed, received his uncle in the even
ing, beside her, and accompanied the old
gentleman to his boarding house, received
an affectionate farewell, when be took up
his way to his own rooms in another house.
For a week he heard nothing of the robbery.
It was just when summer twilight was
fading, that, returning from a drive with
Maud Clarkson, Fred met his uncle's con
fidential clerk awaiting him at Maud's
house.
"I have a note for you, Mr. Fred," he
said ; "and, as you were not at home, I
thought I would wait here for you."
Something in the man's faceand manner
struck a sudden chill to Maud's heart.
"Ycu have bad news ?" she cried.
"Perhaps Mr. Fred had better read the
note," was the evasive reply.
But Maud's terror was only increased
when Fred after reading the note, broke
into a furious exclamation of rage.
"Who dares to say I am a midnight
burglar?" he shoutel.
"Oh, Fred, what is it ?" asked Maud,
turning very white.
"My uncle has been robbed of five
thousand dollars, and he pays me the com
pliment of supposing me the thief because
I have a duplicate key to his private desk.
I—great heavens !" he cried, with a sud
den change in his voice, "he cannot mean
it ! I rob my uncle! I!"
"Mr. Fred," said the clerk, respectfully,
"I only wanted to see how you took the
note, to speak a few words of advice. Mr.
I Fred, I was with your father when he was
killed on the railway train; I was with
your uncle when be brought you from
your mother's funeral to his home. I took
you to boarding school, and brought you
home for the holidays, and I've loved you,
boy and man, since you were ten years
old, and that's twelve long years. I know
you never took the money, but things look
very ugly for you."
"But," said Fred, grasping hard the
hand the old clerk held out to him, "I
cannot understand it. Listen,' and he
read aloud the note from his uncle :
"MR. FREDERICK TRYON—I could not
believe without proof undeniable, positive
proof—that yon could rob me of five
thousand dollars, taken, as you know, from
my private desk, on Wednesday last. You
are my sister's son, and I will never be
the one to imprison or punish you, but
you are no longer a nephew of mine.—
Willingly, I will never look you in your
face again. Your ill-gotten gains I freely
give you to start in some business, trust
ing you will live honestly in the future.
Do not try to see me; I will not listen to
any explanations I know to be false. Do
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HUNTINGDON, PA , FRIDAY, AUGUST, 17 1877.
not write, for I will not open your letter.
RUFUS MARKHAM."
Maud Clarkson grew white as death as
she heard the stern edict. "Oh. Fred !"
she cried, "what can you do ?"
"Starve s I suppose," was the bitter
answer, "as I do not happen to possess the
ill gotten gains so generously presented to
me. But I will not ask you to starve with
me, Maud. You were betrothed to the
milionaire's nephew and heir; the disin
herited beggar frees you from your
promise."
"Fred," she cried, bursting into tears,
"how can you be so cruel ?" Then, un
heeding the clerk, who was discreetly ook
ing from the window, she came close to
Fred's side. "Darling," she said, firing
her eyes upon his face, "if all the world
thinks you guilty, Ido not. If all the
world casts you off, I will keep my promise."
The young lover had been bewildered,
indignant, desperate, but he folded the
gentle comforter fast in his arms, and great
tears fell on her upturned face.
"God bless you, Maud," he cried; "I
can defy the world, if you are true to me.
Now, Potter, sit down, and tell me what
you know of this wretched business."
"Well, Mr. Fred, I never heard of the
robbery myself until this morning, when
Vodges, the detective your uncle employed
to work it up, came to make his report.—
They did not notice me at first, and when
your uncle remembered I was in the room,
I bad heard about all VodgeS knew. You
remember there was a note coming due last
Wednesday ?"
"To Johnston ?"
"Yes; well, I thought at the time it was
curious your uncle gave him a cheek, when
I knew the money was drawn out of the
bank the day before to meet that very
note. But I never knew till this morning
that the money was stolen from Mr. Mark.
ham's private desk by false keys. Mr.
Fred," said the old man, earnestly, "it
was all in five-hundred dollar notes, and
your esole had the numbers."
"Well !"
"This morning Vodges brought back
one of the notes which you gave to T
yesterday in payment for a pearl locket."
"Stop, Potter ! let me think. Where
did I get that note? I have it! Arnold
gave it to me to take out a hundred dol
lars I lent him some time ago. Aud Ar
nold—Potter, Arnold borrowed my keys
last Wednesday night to open his trunk !
Potter ! huzza! We know the thief !"
"N 4 so fast, Mr. Fred—not so fast. It
will not be an easy matter to prove this.
Were there any witnesses present when
Arnold borrowed the keys ?"
"No; I was alone in my room, half un
dressed, when he knocked at my door, and
said he bad lost the key ( s his trunk. I
lent him my bunch of keys, which he re
turned before I was out of bed the next
day." . . _
"And you were alone when he paid you
the money ?"
"Yes; I thought he was very flush, for
you know as well as I do, Potter, that a
note of five hundred dollars is n t a daily
visitor in Arnold's pocket."
"He is a cunning scoundrel. He wants
to ascertain if the notes can be identified
before he tries to get rid of them himself.
Mr. Fred, will you leave it to me for a few
days—only a few days ?—and if I do not
catch the thief you may try !"
"But my uncle ?"
"Wait till you can prove your innocence
;33fore you see him. Only a week. Give
me only a week to watch Arnold. And,
by the way, you will give me an additional
chance if you will leave the city. Throw
him off his guard by letting him suppose
you are banished for his crime."
"Run away," flashed Fred, "like a
coward ?''
"Only for a week. You see, the pro
bability is that Arnold has the money in
his possession yet. He will wait to see
the fate of what he has given you before
putting any more into circulation; but he
has probably hidden it very securely. You
he will watch ; but if you are willing, I
will take your rocm while you are gone,
and do a little private detective business
on my part."
It was not easy to persuade Fred to
consent to Potter's plan, but Maud's per
suasions being added to the old man's he
finally consented to leave the city for a
week, and return in that time to vindicate
his own innocence in case of Potter's
failure.
Before night Fred was on his way to
visit another city, and his landlady had
agreed to allow Mr. Potter to occupy his
place during his absence.
Fred ham been gone two days, when the
old clerk called upon Miss Clarkson to re
port progress.
"I am completely baffled," he said, in
answer to her inquiries. "You see, Ar
nold knows me, and evidently suspects me.
He is ac affectionately desirous of keeping
me in sight, that I cannot get a peep into
his room; and whenever he is out, he locks
the door and gives the key to the land
lady. I cannot force; his door yet, and by
the time Fred retpr,:s, I am afraid the
money will be snaug,-;ied away. lam sure
it is in his possession now, he is so careful
about his room. Nobody gets in there
but the landlady. I did think of bribing
the chambermaid to let me in when she
was at work there, but, unfortunately, she
left to-day."
A flash of light seemed to pass across
Maud's face, but she only said, demurely :
"Your landlady is a German, is she
not ?"
"Yes ; her Englisit is very imperfect.—
Have you ever seen her ?"
"No; I have heard Fred speak of her.
My mother, you know, was German."
"But what has that to do with Fred's
case ?"
"I will tell you. Vodges has tried to
find the thief, and failed. You have tried,
and failed. I mean to try and succeed !"
"You! what can you do ?"
"Come to-morrow and I will tell you."
Punctual to the appointed time, Potter
made his appearance.
With dancing eyes and flushed cheeks,
Maud met him.
"Well?" he asked, certain from her
looks that she had good tidings.
"I told you I would succeed !"
"And you did ? Huzza! -
young as Fred himself !"
"To whom I have telegraphed to return
He will be here this evening, and you
must bring Mr. Markham, Mr. Vodges
and the proper police authorities, to meet
in his room. Then Mr. Pottor, go to Mr.
Arnold's room, and remove the pipe of
the stove at the elbow. In the joint you
will find Mr. Markham's memorandum
book and the missing notes."
"You are sure I"
"Listen This morning, in a calico
dress, sun-bonnet, and a pair of coarse
shoes, fur disguise, I applied for the place
of chambermaid at the boarding house
where Mr. Arnold has a room. I braided
my hair in two long plaits, and convinced
your landlady that I was a recent impor
tation from Germany, unable to speak a
word of English. She agreed to take me
for one week on trial, and, before I had
been two hours in the house, I was sent
to tidy Mr. Arnold's room. Never was a
room tidied so quickly; and, seeing my
mistress on her way to market, I shot the
bolt, and took a survey of the premises.—
The trunk was locked, the bureau drawers
wide open, the closet door ajar. I felt a
reluctance to overhaul any private de
positories ; though I should have done it,"
she added, resolutely, "if I had been driven
to it! I rummaged a little, when on the
closet-floor I espied a shirt, apparently
scarcely soiled, except one sleeve, and that
was black with soot. 'What is he doing
at the fireplace in summer ?' I thought,
and went to examine. A few minutes
sufficed to convince me that the stove had
been moved out, and the elbow of the pipe
removed. I repeated the process to find a
roll of five-hundred-dollar notes, and a
small notn book, with the name Rufus
Markham on the first page. I replaced
everything carefully and came home.—
Now, Mr. Potter, he must be taken by
surprise, or he may say Fred put the notes
there."
"You are a brave girl !" cried the old
man, looking with admiration at the beau.
tiful, animated face, "and Fred will owe
you more than his life."
"He can repay me by coming to tell me
the good news when he is clear."
Eight was striking by the city clocks
when Doctor Graham Arnold, dressed in
the latest fashion, and with a fragrant
Havana between his lips, strolled leisurely
into his room.
He had been in the parlor of his board
ing house for an hour, watching Mr. Pot
ter with some anxiety, but wholly unaware
of the little party of four, who, in Mr.
Potter's temporary apartment, waited his
return to his own room.
Once inside the room, the nonchalant
look like the handsome face of the young
man, and he muttered fiercely :
"I must get out of this ! Potter suspects
me, and may yet communicate his sus
picions to Mr. Markham. I will be off
to night as soon as the house is quiet."
He opened a small travelling-satchel, as
he spoke, and was rapidly filling it with
necessaries for a journey, when he was in
terrupted by a knock at the'door.
Tossing the satchel into the closet, he
cried :
"Come in In
But his face turned livid as his call was
obeyed, and a party of five entered his
room.
Two policemen stationed themselves on
his right and left, while Mr. Markham,
Mr. Potter, and Fred Tryon followed.
"Now, Mr. Potter," said one of the
policemen, with the face and voice of the
Detective Vodges, "will you tell us where
to find those missing notes ?"
"What notes ?" cried Arnold. "What)
does this outrage mean ?"
"It means," said Mr. Potter, "that your
plan to throw the robbery of Mr. Mark
ham's private desk upon his nephew has
failed. It means that the five thousand
dollars stolen from that gentleman are now
in your possession, excepting only one note
given to Mr. Tryon in payment of a debt !"
"It is a lie 1" cried the prisoner; but
his white face, faltering voice, and shaking
limbs, were no proof of innocence. "Search
my trunks, everything I have."
"No, gentlemen," said Mr. Potter.—
"Draw out the stove, if you please, and
look in the elbow of the pipe !"
With a cry, Graham Arnold fell sense
less to the floor, as Vodges put his hand
upon the stove.
Mr. Markham turned to Fred. There
was no words spoken. Hand clasped
hand, and each read forgiveness and •love
in the other's eyes.
Mr. Graham Arnold spent some weeks
in jail ere his trial and conviction ; but
before his sentence was pronounced Mr.
and Mrs. Frederick Tryon were crossing
the ocean cn a wedding tour to Europe,
and only Mr. Potter and Fred ever knew
of Maud's first and only appearance as a
Girl Detective.
elect glistellang.
Praying in the Night-Watches.
I was not surprised at David's praying
to God in the night-watches; at his rising
from his bed, and ascending to the roof of
his house, and when the mighty heart of
the city was still, and the mountains round
about Jerusalem were sleeping in the calm
brilliancy of an Eastern night, that ho
should gaze with rapture on the sky, and
pour forth such a psalm of praise as
"When I consider the heavens the work
of Thy fingers," etc.
The night is more suited to prayer than
the day. I never wake in the middle of
tlie night, without feeling induced to
commune with God. One feels brought
more in contact with Him. The whole
world round us, we think, is asleep. But
the great Shepherd of Israel slumbers not,
nor sleeps. He is awake, and so are we.
We feel, in the solemn and silent night
alone with God. And then there is
everything in the circumstance to lead one
to pray. The past is often vividly recalled.
The voices of the dead are heard, and their
forms crowd around you. No sleep can
bind them. The night seems the time in
which they should bold spiritual com
munion with man. The future, too,
throws its dark shadow over you—the
night of the grave, the certain death-bed,
the night in which no man can work
And then everything makes such an im
pression on the mind at night, when the
brain is nervous and susceptible. The low
sough of the wind among the trees; the
roaring, or eerie whisk of some neighboring
stream; the bark, or low howl of the dog;
the general impressive silence, all tend to
sober and solemnize the mind, and to force
it from the world and its vanities, which
then seem asleep to God, who alone can
uphold and defend it.—Korman Macleod.
I feel as
To be silent about an injury makes the
doer of it more uneasy than complaints.
Every one is in one thing at least original
—in his manner of sneezing. _ _ .
People in love generally resolve first and
reason afterwards.
Men are made to be eternally shaken
about, but women are flowers that lose
their beautiful colors in the noise and tu
mult of life.
Our prayers and God's mercy are like
two buckets in a well ; while one ascends
the other descends.
Never reproach a man with the faults
of his relatives.
The greatest truths are the simplest—
so are the greatest men.
rte -- +
Truths.
The Empty Cradle.
Sad is the heart of the mother
Who sits by the lonely hearth,
'Where never again the children
Shall waken their songs of mirth.
And still through the painful silence,
She listens for voice and tread,
Outside of the heart—there only
She knows they are not dead
Here is the desolate cradle,
The pillow so lately pressed,
But far away has the birdling
Flown from its little nest.
Crooning the lullabies over
That once were babe's delight,
All through the misty spaces
She follows its upward flight.
Little she thought of a moment
So gloomy and sad as this,
When close to her heart she gathered
Her child for its good-night kiss.
She should be tenderly cherished,
Never a grief should she know,
Wealth, and the pride of a princess,
These would a mother bestow.
And this is the darling's portion
In Heaven—where she has fled ;
By angels securely guarded,
By angels securely led.
Brooding in sorrowful silence
Over the empty nest,
Can you not see through the shadows,
Why it is all for the best?
Better the heavenly kingdom
Than riches of earthly crown ;
Better the early morning flight,
Than one when the sun is down ;
Better an empty casket,
Than jewels besmirched with sin
Safer than those without the fold,
Are those that have entered in.
Marriage Superstitions.
The numerous superstitions that still
linger among us, constitute a very interest
ing, though painful, field for thought and
reflection. A few of the most popular in
connection with love and marriage we
place before our readers.
On St. Mark's Eve the custom still ling
ers among the maidens of Northampton
shire to make the dumb cake. The num
ber of' the party never exceeds three. They
meet in silence to make the cake, and as
soon as the clock strikes twelve they each
break a portion off to cat ; and when done,
they walk up to bed backward, without
speaking a worfl—for, if one speaks the
spell is broken. Those that are to be
married see the likeness of their sweet
hearts hurrying after them. Those are to
die unmarried neither hear nor see any.
thing ; but they have terrible dreams,
which are sure to be of new made graves,
winding sheets, and churchyards, and of
rings that will fit no finger, or which, ir
they do, crumble into dust as soon as put
on
There is another dumb ceremony also prev
alent in Northamptonshire of eating a yolk
of an egg in silence, and then filling the
shell with salt, when the sweetheart is sure
to make his visit in some way or other be
fore morning.
Theyoung women of Scotland, in former
times,
determined the figure and size of
their husbands by drawing cabbages blind
folded on All Hollow Even, (or Hollowe'en,
the 31st of October,) and, like the English,
flinging nuts into the fire. It is mentioned
by Burns that "the first ceremony of Hal
lowe'en is pulling each a stock or plant of
kail. They must go out hand in -hand,
with eyes shut, and pull the first they meet
with. It being big or little, straight or
crooked, is prophetic of the size and shape
of the grand object of all their spells—the
husband or wife. If any gird, or earth,
stick to the root, that is Locher, or fortune ;
and the taste of the custoc—that is, the
heart of the stem—is indicative of the
natural temper and disposition. Lastly,
the stems—or to give them their ordinary
appellation—the runts, are placed some
where above the head of the door, and the
Christian names of the people whom
chance brings into the house, are, accord
ing to the priority of placing the runts, the
names in question."
. . .
The Welch have a play in which the
youth of both sexes seek for an evenleaved
sprig of the ash ; and the first of either
sex that finds and calls out Cyniver, is
answered by the first of the other that
succeeds; and these two, if the omen fails
not are to be joined in wedlock.
Burning the nuts was once a favorite
charm in Scotland. They name the lad
and lass to each particular nut, as they lay
them in the fire, and accordingly as they
burn quietly together, or start from beside
one another, the course and issue of the
courtship will be.
In Ireland, when the young women
wished to know if their lovers were faith
ful, they put three nuts upon the bars of
the grate, naming the nuts after the lovers.
If the nut cracked or jumped, the lover
would prove unfaithful. If it began to
blaze or burn, he had a regard for the
person making the trial. If the nuts
named after the girl and her lover burned
together, they would be married.
Eating an apple at a glass was another
charm once in vogue. "Take a candle and
go alone to a looking glass. Eat an apple
before it, and (traditions say you should
comb your hair all the time) the face of
your conjugal companion to be will be seen
in the glass, as if peeping over your shoul
der."
"Throwing a stocking" is a singular sort
of love divination on the first evening of a
wedding. After the bride has retired, and
while she is undressing, she delivers one
of her stockings to a female atttendant,
who throws it at random among the com
pany assembled on this occasion. The
person on whom it happens to alight will,
it is supposed, be the next to enter into
the blessed state of matrimony.
The following:superstitious customs still
linger in the south of Scotland : The bride
when she enters the house of her husband,
is lifted over the threshold. To step on it,
or over it, involuntarily, is reckoned a bad
omen. On the same occasion a sweet cake,
baked for the purpose, is broken above the
head of the bride, which is also a rite of
classic tradition.
"AND now let me show you the ger
minating house," said a Borst recently
after taking an Irish visitor through the
collection of plants and various hot-honses.
"The German sting house is it ?" rejoined
the son of Erin; "av ye plaze, couldn't ye
give us the sight of an Irish dhrinking
house hereabouts, if its all the same to
yees?"
BRIDGET—"Sure Maria and Mc) was
discushion over what was thim things in
the pitcher over the mantel. Mistress—
" Why, Bridget,those are Raphael's angels,"
Bridget—"Och, thin the both of us wuz
wrong; I said they wuz twins end Maria
said they wuz bats."
WHEN a boy falls and peels the skin off
his nose, the first thing he does is to get
up and yell. When a girl tumbles and
hurts herself badly, the first thing she
does is to get up and look at her dress.
Taming a Canary Bird.
When I first put him into his new cage
he was as wild a bird as I ever saw. Of
beautiful plumage, graceful form and sly,
yet winsome ways, his natural song, blend
ed with the notes of a nightingale, his first
instructor, charmed all who chanced to
hear it. I must confess, however, to some
misgivings in any first endeavors to gain
the affections of this bird. For several
days he confronted my approaches by the
most willful conduct, and every repeated
attempt to gain his good-will was rebutted.
I have seen birds that one could tame by
simply talking to them in a natural, sub
dued voice. But Tim was not ono of this
sort, and something more potent than
"silvery tongue" was needed to impress
him with a sense of the situation. Matters
had thus continued for a week or ten days.
when•l found myself obliged to resort to
more severe measures. In tha early morn
ing his cage was cleaned, and fresh water
put in, but no food was allowed. You
would have smiled to see him peeping coy
ly down into his seed cup, and yet disdain
fully, on discovering nothing there. His
apparent comprehension of "hard times"
gave him the half hungry, half saddened
look that most men wear under like cir
cumstances. A two hour's survey gave
him a pretty clear notion of the situation ;
he seemed now to take it all in at a glance,
and whether convinced or not that this
was his first lesson, he appeared to be at
least a fit subject for further experiment.
So, without saying a word, I opened the
cage door, and, with a few seeds in my
hand, I thrust the latter gently into the
cage. But not yet had he reached the
verge of starvation ; the seeds looked tempt
ing, to be sure, but not sufficiently so to
lower his dignity. Hence a patient wait
ing of two hours more. Again the hand
was thrust into the cage, a few seeds were
snatched up with lightning speed, and
after this 1 was given to understand that
Tim is hungry, but never stoops ! I count
ed it a most encouraging sign, however,
that he should deign to pick up the seeds
at the end of a four hours training. At
the close of the sixth hour Tim was as
calm as an April sunset; he was, indeed,
most tractable, and no sooner had I again
put my hand, containing the seeds, into
the cage than he perched upon my thumb
as cheerily as though it had been his
perch, and he began to devour the proffer
ed food.
I allowed him to satisfy his hunger for
about one minute, then I drew my hand,
with the bird, out of the cage, and retreat
ed to a chair. Before I had seated my
self, however, he had deserted me, and had
perched above the window. You may
starve there all day, if you like, my fine
fellow, but you'll find it !nor pasture for
hungry birds." I held the seed cup in my
hand, and on the floor beside me lay a
small vial of oil of anise. "When you get
ready you may come and get your seed,
Tim," said I ; and then I went on with
my whistling. For a half hour or more
the bird had the freedom of the room, and
half in despair and half eager to improve
the time, I sat down at my writing-desk,
placed the seed.cup and oil bottle in front
of me, and went on with my work. I had
well nigh, while absorbed in other thoughts,
forgotten Tim, when, on a sudden, I felt
a slight rustling on my shoulder, and a
moment latter he was on the table in front
of me. He was allowed to gather up a
few more seeds, then I seized him gently,
opened the vial, rubbed a very small quan
tity of the anise upon his nostrils, and then
replaced him upon the table. It must
have been an hour before the intoxication
or stupor (which, for the benefit of gentle
readers, let me say is perfectly harmless)
passed off; then the bird began to eat
again, and finally, upon a little persuasion,
hopped upon my finger, then on another,
and so on back and forth until I put him
back into his cage. Hardly was he re
turned when he poured forth his strains of
sweetest melody.
On the next day, after cleaning the cage
I placed it on the table, leaving the door
open and the seed-cup outside. It requir- '
ed no persuasion whatever to induce the
bird to come out, and now every sign of
terror had left him. While he ate I gent
ly stroked his feathers, talked to him,
fondled him—it was all I cared to do. Tim
was conquered at last. He had learned
his first lesson, namely, that to know the
master he must become friendly to him,
and, before receiving food, be must respect
the giver. From that day to this the bird
has been one of the family. Whereas for
merly I had to contend in order to get him
out of his cage, now I have to contend to
get him into it. A part of the day he
spends with me, singing while I write and
work, now pulling the beads off my pen
wiper and dropping them into the inkstand ;
now removing the pins from the coil, and
carrying them to the top of the bookcase;
now getting into an open drawer, and play
ing mischief among my papers. Even while
I write these words of his little story, he
and a bullfinch are contending in front of
me for the possession of my blotter, and I
will not say them nay to their little antics
—Appleton 's Journal for August.
Blow Your Own Horn.
Blow your own horn. Yes, give it a
blast, and let modesty blush if she will.—
This false delicacy has been a stumbling
block of thousands of really good and
capable men. Make a noise, it will attract
somebody. Let the world know you are
alive and intend to drive things until you
get to the top of the bill and make a for
tune. To the men of energy and persever
ance mountains are but mole hills. 'Tis
only drones that fall. They are always
looking on the black side, predicting
disaster, always complaining of hard times,
always waiting for something to turn up.
Such men will never find good times nor
prosperity. Neither will they ever find
friends nor admirers among first-class busi
ness men. if you would succeed in any
thing don't stand still. Go ahead. Don't
be afraid. Do something. If you don't
blow the horn, sotr3body else will, but not
for your benefit except "in a horn."
THE catarrh, writes a correspondent, can
be cured by a daily use of raw onions as an
article of food ; at the same time use
snuff made of white sugar, laundry starch,
and burned alum, pulv.rized and mixed in
equal quantities—to be used the same as
other setoff.
THE militia system of thi, state, it is
alleged has proved unsatisfactory, and a
cotemporary says that something better
should be substituted fur it. It is now pro
posed that if the State iv;11 make sufficient
provisions it will be a-, to org'nize all
veterans and Puts of the Grand Army of
tne Republic into regiment_ It is tr aly
said that such organizations "won id equal
in efficiency, discipline :.Ad bravery the
famous Old Guaad of Napoleon."
Ce 114(ti of ttn.
She Had a Sanguine Temperament.
The other evening a policeman was in
formed that a resident of Lafayette street
was killing his wife. This is not an un
usual thing for a husband to do during
these days of pullbacks, tiebacks, getbacks,
backups, and long trails, but still the po
licemen made a rush for the house. As he
reached the steps the wife had just finish
ed washing her bloody nose, and she greet
ed him with the cheerful query :
"Hello! Did you hear of the racket ?"
"I heard that you were being murder
ed," he replied. _
.. .
"0! psliaw ! It was merely a lively set
to between the old man and myself. Wo
have lots of 'em ; I don't always come out.
second -best, as I did this time, but it's all
right.
"If a body moat a trody
Comin' thro' the rye!"
I should think it would be awful to live
in this way," remarked the officer, as he
glanced around at the many proofs of pov
erty.
"Oh, go long !" she smiled. "We can't
be all dukes and duchesses, and there's no
use trying. I've got six children around
the house, and it's my duty to carry a live
ly heart. Fact is, I'm of's sanguine tem
perament, and I always look on the bright
side any how."
"Weren't you set out of a house on
Crogham street for non payment of rent ?"
asked the officer, looking at her mi re chi me .
ly._
"Same woman—same family," she laugh.
ed. "I had more fun over that than you
could carry on a freight train. Three of
the children were sick, the old man out of
work, the dog lost, the cat under the
weather with cramps, and none of tui knew
what to do. however,
"The sun may be shining to morrow,
Although it bo cloudy to-day,"
And I sat down on the old cook stove, and
laughed till I cried."
"I think I saw you at the Yuor•master's
office," he observed.
"And that was another good joke on
Snyder," she grinned. "Yes, I went
around there and asked for Mucha coffee,
granulated sugar, seedless Worcester
sauce, pastry flour, and A 1 coal, and you
ought to hare seen the old man go down
in his boots! I gut some taters, and meat,
and wood, and some of the folks were put
out to hear me singing—
The wolf of starvation she winked at me.
By-by, tra-la!
But I married a duke With fortunes three,
Fe, fo, fum!
"Do you fight with your husband very
often ?" he asked. !
'.Well, that depends. He's of a bilious
temperament, and you can bet on him.
Some days he'll come in as meek as a lamb,
and smile sweetly as I kick his hat off.
Again he'll come rushing in, bang the
children around, kick over the chairs, and
dare me to move an ear. Them's glorious
times, them is. You just ought to see ma
ternal affection and mop-handle muscle
combine and go for that old autocrat of the
shovel and wheelbarrow ! I don't have
any backing, and I don't want any. These
sanguine temperaments never go in except
to win."
"You have been arrested for disturbing
the peace, haven't you r"
"The same, I have, and were you down
there ? I walked out before the desk in
Lady .A.udley's style, you know, wiped a
tear from the pearly eye, and the way I
flung law, domestic happiness, muscular
development, mother's love, conjugal af
fection, and Western enterprise at his
Honor made his hair stand up. He told
me to go, and I laughed all the way home.
My husband sat here, wiping away croco
dile tears, and telling the children I'd
been sent to Saratoga for my health, when
I bounced in and had him hollering for
mercy in less than two minutes."
"So we won't go borne till morn'.ng—
Till daylight does appear."
"Well, I guess you'll get along," said
the officer as he went down the steps.
"Don't you bet I won't!" she replied,
standing in the door. "We havn't a stick
of wood, and nothing to eat but a loaf of
bread, while the rent is two months over
due, but I am of a sanguine temperament,
you know. If we don't strike a streak of
luck to-night we'll have a dry old meal and
another fight in the morning, but lack has
got to come some day. Destiny is destiny,
and this old calico dress has got to do me
till snow flies; but—
"There's many a hard-up fam-i-lee
There's many who want for bread;
But I'm a sandy, sanguine, cheerful wife,
Who'll never give up till dead.
"If you hear a tussle in here this even•
ins don't interfere. I've got a handful of
snuff all ready for the old man's eyes, and
it'll nearly kill me to see him feeling
around for a club with one hand and dig
ging, his eyes with the other. Well, tra-la."
—Detroit Free Press.
The Naked Truth.
At noon yesterday a policeman found a
boy bathing in a slip, near the foot of
Randolph street, and he called to the lad to
come out and be arrested like a man for
breaking the ordinance.
"Is it again the orjunance for a boy to
fall into the river ?" queried the bather.
"No sir but you are naked."
"Does the law say that a boy has got. to
have his clothes on when he falls in
"The ordinance prohibits bathing here,
and now come out."
"Is it bathing when a feller cuts his foot
on a piece of tin, knocks his head agin a
beam, and swallows four catfish and a gob
of mud ?"
"I wan't you !" called the officer.
"What fur?" asked the boy.
"I command you to come out 1"
"I can't come," sorrowfully answered
the bather. "The real truth is, I jumped
in here to rescue a drowning female, but
her hair pulled off and she's at the bottom.
As I have no witness I dasn't go to trial 1"
"I'll bring you out?" growled the offi
cer as he made for a boat ; but the boy
disappeared and was seen no mote. While
the officer was looking under the wharf
the half of a good sized sand pile suddenly
slid down the back of his neck and into
his boots, and a musical, familiar voice was
heard saying :
"My shirt's on hind side afore, breeches
turned a:onnd, and this vest is wrong end
up, but I feel as clean as a new stamp from
the Postoffice, and Lor ! what an appetite
I've got fcr pop-cern balls."—Detroit Ave
• DOTINC mother of a Waggish boy, hav
ing bottled a quantity of nice prezerves la
beied them, "Put up by Mrs. Doo." John
ny . aving disooveried the goodies, soon ate
the contents of one bottle, and wrote on the
bottom of the label, "Put down by Johnny
Doo."
NO. 32.