The Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1871-1904, May 10, 1878, Image 1

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    VOL. 42.
New Advertisements.
War, War, and
JOSEPH R.
TO THE FRONT WITH AN ELEGANT STOCK OF
SPRING AND SUMMER DRY-GOODS.
We offer a nice line of Black and Drab, Gros Grain and Striped Silks ;
at 75 cents per yard, All-Wool Cashmeres from 50 cents to 90 cents, for
goods 48 inches wide. We offer also 100 pieces new styles Dress Goods,
Melange, Debege, Armures, Alpacas, (all colors), Coburg Poplin, &c.,
from 15 cents to 25 cents. We call attention to our nice stock of Plaids,
from 6 cents to 12i cents, have just opened 4000 yards of best Prints,
which we will sell at 5 cents, Appleton A Muslin, 71 cents, Fruit of Loom,
4-4 10 cents, Chapman, 4-4 8 cents.
Notions ! Notions ! Notions !
Our stock of Hosiery for Ladies, Gents. and Misses is complete ; we
have the cheapest Hose from 5 cents a pair to 75 cents for the finest lisle
thread. A large stock opening of Silk Sun Umbrellas, Counterpanes,
Jacquard Quilts, Silk Handkerchiefs, Hamburg Edgings, Cheap, Cheap.
9
Ladies and G-ents.' Shoes!
We keep constantly on hand a full line of Ladies', Misses' and Children's
Shoes, Gaiters and Slippers. For Men, we have Brogans at $1.25, and
$1.75, for Plough Shoes, Ties and Congress Gaiters. Call and be con
vinced that we sell the cheapest.
Groceries! Groceries! Groceries!
The Best Syrup at 70 cts., Choice Syrup at 50 cts., 10 pounds A Sugar
for $l.OO, best Green Coffee, 20 cts., best Brown, 23 cts. A liberal dis
count allowed persons buying a large quantity. Goods delivered free of
charge to all parts of the town.
Fish and Salt a Specialty!
J. R. CARMON,
420 Washington Street.
CARPETS, CARPETS, CARPETS.
OIL CLOTHS ,
OIL CLOTHS,
OIL CLOTHS.
Another tumble in the Price of Carpets and Oil Cloths.
We are just in receipt of another invoice of Three-Ply, Extra
Super—Super—lngrain, Hemp and Rag Carpets, and the
Prices are lower than ever.
We have just received a full line of samples, of the latest
designs in
Body Brussel and. Tapestry Brussels,
at greatly reduced prices. We have just received a beauti
ful line of
FLOOR OIL CLOTH
1 yard wide, 1 1-4 yard wide, 1. 1-2 yard wide and 2 yards
wide, at Prices that defy competition. If you need a Carpet
or Oil Cloth, come and examine our stock before you pur
chase. It will pay.
We are the sole agents in the county for the celebrated
EIMEIG WHITE SHlRT—can't wrinkle.
HENRY & Co
March22-3mos.
In
GRAND OPENING
W —AT—
MAIICES' OLD STAND, 4
44 _
4. 4 NO. 615 PENN STREET, HUNTINGDON, PA.
fr-4 ENTIRE NEW STOCK OF C I )
C 3 P "XXIV Gir . r" C)CO 3r a
Cr) Cr
Z Great Bargains Offered for Cash or Trade.
C'")
0 -4 We respectfully invite the public generally to call and ex
amine the large and entire new stock just re
ceived and ready for inspection.
t i l
f:4 Dry Goods, Notions, Groceries, :="
"'=C QUEENSWARE, WILLOWWARE, TINWARE, i
PCI OIL CLOTHS, TRUNKS, SATCHELS, GENTS. ' FURNISHING GOODS, Cl)
E -4 HATS, CAPS, BOOTS, SHOES, l'
CD
and a g reat variety of other g oods, which were purchased tor OABII, at bottom fi g ures and will
W r ia o n ffe a r n e: o a t t he s r ui p ail a l
c yo w lits nie lo a rLASH , . ).r l!
t ye ll
an dl i r e e ar to n
obauryprir.O.DwG.o3:niDeaSnatnoddaot leosws
Z SMALL PROFITS AND QUICK SALES. til
We g uarantee our g oods to be A No. 1, and at prices cheaper than the cheapest. In conductin g
our business, we shall be g overned as follows : C)
(1,) 1. Justice and one price to all. 7. No misrepresentation of goods. '...4
2. Goods sold at small profits. 8. Due attention and respect to all. 07
3. Produce taken at market prices. 9. No trouble to show g oods.
. 4 ..) 4. Cash or Trade only taken for g oods. 10. To accommodate the trade,doors will be open
5. All mistakes willin g ly corrected. early and late for business.
J
6. No extra profits on produce. 11. Goode delivered free in town.
(1) t i l
C.)
U 2 PTT M 3E3 M IRJ . - Z
t s All kinds of Lumber on hands, such as Hemlock Boards,
O Scantling, Plastering and Roofing Laths, Shingles, Etc. Any rn
cz kind of BUILDING MATERIAL furnished at short notice, at `A:
prices to suit purchasers. '1
O A Share of the Trade of Iluntin,gdon and Vicinity Solicited. ( ( I D )
(...„ I April 26-6rnos. Mrs. J. MARCH. 7'
Professional Cards•
DCALDWELL, Attorney - at-Law , No. 111, 9rd atreet.
. Office formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods a Wil
iiemsou. [apl2,ll
TDB. A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his professional services
lJ bo the community. Office, No 523 Washington street,
one door wt of the Catholic Parsonage. [jan4,'7l
U C. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentlet. Office in Letter's
_I2J. building, in the room formerly occupied by Dr. E.
.1 Greene, Iluntinguon, Pa. [ap1.213, '76.
80. B. ORLADY, Attorney-at-law, 406 Penn Street,
G
Huntingdon, P. [n0v17,'76
G. L. 8088, Dentist, office in S. T. Brown's new building,
No. b2O, Penn Street, Uuntingdon, Pa. [apl2.'7l
H - - ----
C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-low. Office, No.—, Penn
H.C .
Street, lionLingdon, Pa. [apl9,'7l
SYLVANITS BLAIR, Attorney♦t-Law, Huntingdon,
Pa. Office, Penn Street, throe doors west of 3rd
Street. Ljan4,'7l
TW. MAT ERN, Attorney-at-law and General Claim
. Agent, Huntingdon, Pa. Soldiers' claims against the
Government for back-pay, bounty, widows' and invalid
pensions attended to with great care and promptness. Of
fice on Penn Street. Uan4,ll.
8. °KISSINGER, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public,
. Huutiagdon, Pa. OAlee, No. 230 Penn Street, oppo
site Court House. [rebb,'n
Ci E. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Hamtingdon, Ps.,
office iii Monitor building, Penn Street. Prompt
end careful attention given to all legal business.
[sugs,'74-emos
‘VILLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney-et-Law, Hunting
don, Pa. Special attention given to collection.,
and all other legal business attended to with care and
promptness. OtEce, tio. 229, Penn Street. [ap19,71
he lluntingdon Journal.
New Advertisements.
iumors of War !
CARMON
Miscellaneous.
NNOTlCE.—Application will be made by
the Board of School Directors of the Borough
of Huntingdon to the Court of Common Pleas of
Huntingdon county, at an argument court of April
term of 1878, on the 24th day of May, 1878, for
authority to borrow money for the purpose of erec
ting a new school house in the borough of Hunt
ingdon; character of security, amount, rate per
centum, and time at which it shall be reimbursa
ble to be decided by the decree of the said Court.
THOS. 8. JOHNSTON,
ALEX. ELLIOTT, Prest. School Board.
Secretary. [Apr. 28-4 t
NOTICE, TO CONTRACTORS.-
Sealed:proposals,addressed to the undersigned
will be received op to 6 P. M., on Wednesday, May
15th, for quarrying Limestone for the Rockhill
Iron & Coal Co., for one year from date of contract.
From 75 to 100 tone required daily.
Specifications can be seen on application at of
fice of Company. The Company reserve the right
to reject any or all bids. A. W. SIMS,
Orbieonia, Apr. 26, '7B Manager.
NOTICE OF ADMINISTRATION
[Estate of GEORGE WELLS, dec'd.]
Letters of Administration having been granted
to the undersigned, living in Huntingdon, on the
estate of my late husband, George Wells, bate of
said borough deceased, all persons knowing them
selves indebted to said estate will make payment
without delay, and those having claims against
the same, will present them properly authenticated
for settlement. ELLA WELLS,
apr26-6t] Administratrix.
Ely POO' Noitter.
Spring.
Now slowly rounding on its axle old,
The brown world turns its face unto the spritig.
A balmy freshness fills the dewy mold
Of furrowed fields ; whit e clouds with folded wing
Rest on the sea. Along the quiet beach
Through branches droped with buds of freshest
green,
The streatnlet trickles down the rocky beach
On whose blue calm the floating gull is seen ;
Inland the rock calls clamorous for rain ;
The peasant, plough in hand, plods whistling on
Behind his puffing horses, till the sun,
Casting blue mountain-shadows, near the main.
Then from the dusky twilight upland soon
The nightingale salutes the cloudy moon.
N. Y. Evening Mail.
Elle to.7q-Erlitr.
THE 'WANDERER'S RETURN.
Patter, patter, came the rain, steadily,
heavily. "Oh, what a dreary day it is !"
said Lottie Maynard, as she looked up
from her sewing and gazed out of the win
dow of the old farm house where she re
sided.
"Dreary enough," replied her mother it
a cheery voice, although her spirits were
evidently depressed by the gloom, "but I
hope it may clear up before nightfall."
"I hope so, too," replied Lottie, "for
you know, mother I promised Emma Brown
I would spend this evening with her, and
I know she will feel so disappointed if the
rain prevents me from going.
"Well, my dear, if you cannot go, you
must not feel dissatisfied, but be thankful
that you have a good home to shelter you
from the storm without. How many poor
creatures are exposed to its fury, and per
haps tney have no home in which to take
refuge ?"
"I wonder where poor Charlie is to
night ?" said Lottie, sorrowfully.
"God only knows," replied the mother,
drawing a deep sigh, "but I trust His
sheltering arms are around him, where
ever he may be. It is now almost three
years since he went away."
"Oh, I remember it all so well," slid
Lottie, "you know, mother, he did not
come down to his breakfast that morning
and you sent me up to his room to see if
he was sick, (for be never needed calling);
and when I opened his door he was no
place to be seen."
"He was a thoughtless, wayward boy,"
said the mother, tears starting into her
eyes, "but he was ever kind and affection
ate toward his mother, and I am afraid
your father was a little too stern with
him."
"Do you think he will ever come back ?"
said Lottie, in an earnest voice. "Oh,
how very glad we should all be to see him
again, and I am sure that father would
rejoice at his return."
am always hoping and praying that
he may return to be a blessing to us all
yet," said Mrs. Maynard. "Often I lie
awake a great part of the night, thinking
about him. Sometimes I fear the cruel
sea has swallowed him up, and all the fond
hopes that were centered in him. Then,
again, hope whispers that he yet lives and
will gladden our hearts again with his
presence. And oh ! what a sweet thought
it is! I trust this trial may be blessed to
us all, for 'God's ways are not our ways,'
you know. It looks very dark now, but
light may dawn upon us, and fill our hearts
with joy."
"He is quite a young man now," said
Lottie meditatively.
''Yes," said her mother, "and age and
experience often brings wisdom."
Silence reigned supreme for awhile, for
both mother and daughter seemed inclined
to think rather than talk. The big drops
of rain beat down upon the window panes,
and the wind whistled around the snug
dwelling, making them realize the comforts
by which they were surrounded. They
thought of the dear one far away, and
wondered whether he was shielded from the
pitiless storms, and, above all, whether he
was safe from the many temptations which
beset the pathway of the young and inex
perienced when they are out in the cold
unfeeling world, away from the benign in
fluence of home and friends.
Suddenly Lottie eaclaimed.—
`•Oh, mother ! do look at that•poor man
walking in the middle of the road. He
must be drenched to the skin. I wonder
why he is out on such a dreadful day.—
Where can he be going ?"
"Perhaps be is on his way to some farm
house to procure work," said her mother.
"He's coming toward our gate," said
Lottie, "and he's dressed like a sailor. I
wonder what he can want ?"
She watched him as he entered the gate,
and walked up the path to the house.—
Then a loud rap was heard at the door,
and she ran to open it. There stood the
poor man, the wet dripping from his gar
ments, and the cold wind was beating the
rain in his face.
He made a little bow to Lottie, and said
in a beseeching tone,—
"It is a very cold, wet day. Would you
please allow me to warm myself by your
fire a few minutes ?"
Mrs. Maynard was not the woman to re
fuse so reasonable a request, especially
when it came from one who needed so very
much what he asked, and since her son
ran away to sea, her heart had always been
warmed toward the "sons of the ocean,"
although it was a rare sight to see one in
their part of the country, and consequently
it did not often lie in her power to befriend
them. , So when this poor wanderer came
to her door shivering with cold, and ap
parently so much in need of warmth and
refreshment, aLe was not behiodhand in
her hospitality. She told Lottie to set a
chair for him by the glowing stove, and
also to set out some food on the table near
him, of which he was cordially invited to
partake.
After he appeared thoroughly warmed,
and his hunger appeased, Mrs. Maynard
turned to him, as he sat by the fire with
averted face, and inquired why he hap
pened to be out on such an inclement day.
"Why, yoo see, ma'am," said t he stranger
in a respectful voice, "I only landed at
Philadelphia the other day. I've just re
turned from a long voyage, and I'm on my
way to see an old friend who lives some
where on this road."
"Have you been long at sea ?" asked
Mrs. Maynard.
'Well, not more than three or fuur
years. I've made two voyages to China,
two or three to Europe, and this last to
the west coast of South America and back,
and now I think I shall settle down on
land, for it's a hard life, and you're treated
'most like a dog."
"It's a hard life, you say ?" said Mre.
Maynard, sadly (she was thinking of her
absent boy). "1 suppose in your wander
ings you never met with a young man by
the name of Charles Maynard, did you ?"
HUNTINGDON, PA,, FRIDAY, MAY 10, 1878.
"Charles Maynard ! Charles Maynard !"
slowly repeated the stranger to himself.—
"Why, to be sure I did. He sailed in the
same ship with me several times. I often
heard him speak of his good mother. Are
you any relation to him, ma'am ?"
"I'm his own mother. He's my only
son !" cried Mrs. Maynard, the tears gush
ing to her eyes, and starting to her feet,
she advanced toward the sailor. "Oh, tell
me, where did you see him last ? Where
is he now ? my poor, poor boy ! Will he
soon come home ?"
The stranger covered his face with his
hands, while a deep sob heaved his manly
bosom Then, uncovering his face, the
big tears rolling down his checks, he looked
up, and said softly,—
"Mother, don't you know your boy ?
I am Charlie Maynard !"
"A mother's arms were instantly thrown
around him. A mother's kisses fell thick
and fast on his swarthy face, and amid the
exclamations of joy from herself and Lot
tie, the poor wanderer felt that be was in
deed welcome.
"I knew you wouldn't know me," he
said to his mother, after the first burst of
joy had subsided. "My beard has grown
so unusually fur one of my age, and my
face is FO burnt by being in the tropics,
that I thought I would practice a little
piece of deception, and it worked, as I ex
pected, to a charm."
"Your face and voice seemed strangely
unfamiliar to me," said his mother, "until
you uttered those magic words, 'Mother,
don't you know your boy.' Then the tone
seemed to thrill me as of old. I felt sure
it was indeed my long lost son."
"I was sadly afraid Lottie would dis
cover the trick," said Charles laughing.
"She looked at me so steadfastly."
"I hadn't the least idea who you were,"
replied his sister. "I was thinking whaba
a hard lot yours was."
"I hope that you will never leave us
again," said Mrs. Maynard, anxiously.
"No, mother, my mind is made up to
that. I've turned over a fresh leaf, and I
mean to stay and try to do my duty by
you and father. I never forgot your teach
ings while I was away, and, by the bless
ing of God they preserved me from many
snares to which I was exosped. I can
never feel too thankful to you, mother, for
the kind advice you always gave me, for I
see now how wise it was. But where is
father ?"
"He is out in the barn thrasahing. Sit
still ; he'll be in presently," said his mother.
"No, I would rather go and speak to
him alone. You know I can find my
way," he added, laughing.
When he reached the barn, he gently
opened the door and looked in. The far
mer gazed at him for a minute, and then
said in a gruff voice,—
"What might you want here ?"
"Don't you know me ?" said Charles ad
vancing into the barn
"Know you ?" said the farmer. How
should I know you ? I've never seen you
before to my knowledge."
"Do you forget your runaway son ?" in
quired Charles, taking a few steps toward
his father.
Instantly Mr. Maynard threw down his
flail with which he bad been beating out
the ripe grain, and hurrying to his son
clasped him in his arms exclainiting,—,
"I'm so glad you've come back, Charlie.
/was afraid you never would, and I never
can forkive myself for the harsh way in
which I treated you before you went away.
I won't act so again, with the help of God."
"I did very wrong to run away," said
Charles, penitently, "and I hope you'll
forgive me."
"Indeed I will forgive you if there is
anything to be fbrgiven," said his father
affectionately. "But come, let us go into
the house, and we can hear all about your
wanderings."
If ever there was a happy household it
was Farmer Maynard's on that memorable
evening. After a bountiful supper (such
as poor Charles had not tasted since the
time of his leaving home), they all knelt
down and returned thanks for the return
of the long absent son and brother, and
each member of the family felt that a load
of sorrow had been lifted from their hearts,
and joy infused into their inmost souls.
eltriPistellanp'.
Bathing.
Cleanliness is surely next to godliness.
I do not think an individual can be phy
sically unclean and morally pure. One of
the greatest causes of skin diseases is the
lack of the use of water. There is at all
times and under all circumstances a shed
ding of the epithelium of the skin. It
comes off in scales, which, if not removed,
will close the pores of the skin and prevent
the free respiration that is constantly ta
king place. One of nature's modes of dis
posing of her surplus heat and waste mat
ter is by sending them out through the
pores of the skin. In fact so essential is
this to the physical economy that if the
body be covered with a coat of varnish for
even a short time death will occur. From
this you will observe how important it is
for us to keep every pore open. To do
this we must bathe. I will not stop to
speak of the benefits to be derived from
the employment of Turkish or other baths,
but bathe regularly and often. Every
man, woman and child should bathe twice
a week at least, and oftener when the em
ployment followed is such as to render it
necessary. Now it may seem strange, but
some people don't bathe once a month on
an average, and one-half of those who do,
do it in such a way that no good comes
from it. While sponging one's self off is
better than not bathing at all, yet it is not
as beneficial as it should be. It is not
necessary that you have a bath room, with
all the modern conveniences. All you need
is a warm room and a few gallons of water,
some soap and a sponge. It requires no
skill to use them. Use the bath if you
would preserve your health. I remember
of hearing a doctor tell a patient to take
a warm bath. The patient afterward said :
"That's the first water that has touched
my back in sixteen years." The man that
will not wash himself oftener than that is
a brute.
A COUNTRYMAN going down Maine
street the other morning, carrying a ladder
in one hand and now and then turning to
gaze into a store window, knocked over
fmurteen school children in a journey of
two blocks—and it was not a very good
morning for school children, either.
A MAN anxious to protect himself from
the frequent and annoying visits of travel
ing agents has put a fire insurance plate
over the door of his house, a sewing ma
chine in the window, a patent washing
machine on his porch, a patent hat rack
in the ball, and a lightning rod on the roof.
Edison Speaks for Himself.
HE TELLS WHAT THE TALKING PHONO-
GRAPH IS AND WHAT IT WILL DO,
In the current North American Review
i 3 an article by Thomas A. Edison, de
scribing his curious and valuable invention,
the talking phonograph, with whose gen
eral construction and capabilities the
readers of The Graphic are tolerably well
acquainted. Of its utility, Mr. Edison
says that the possibilities are illimitable,
and the probabilities are so numerous that
he—though subject to the influence of
familiar contact—is himself in a somewhat
chaotic condition of mind as to where to
draw the dividing line. In point of fact,
such line cannot with safety be defined in
ordinary inventions at so early a stage of
their development. -In the case of an in-
vention of the nature and scope of the
phonograph, it is practically impossible to
indicate it to-day, for to-morrow a trifle
may extend it almost indefinitely.
lle then shows that "a vibrating plate
or disk is capable of receiving a complex
motion which shall correctly represent the
peculiar property of each and all the mul
tifarious vocal and other sound waves," as
in the telephone; and that "such complex
movement can be transmitted from such
plate by means of a single embossing point
attached thereto, to effect a record upon a
plastic material by indentation, with such
fidelity as to give to such identations the
same varied and complex form, and that
this embossing point, upon being passed
over the record thus made, will follow -it
with such fidelity as to retransmit to the
disk the same variety of movement, and
thus effetet a restoration or reproduction of
the vocal or other sound waves, without
loss of any property essential to producing
upon the ear the same sensation as if com
ing direct from the original source. Such
a record can be removed from the apparatus
upon which it was made and replaced upon
a second without mutilation or loss of ef
fective power to vibrate the second plate.
But ten or fifteen seconds suffice for such
placing or removal. A special envelope
will probably be required for the present,
the weight and form of which, however,
will but slightly increase the cost of post
age. The identations possess wonderful
enduring power, and are capable of fifty
to a hundred repetitions.
"Electrotypes of the embossing can be
obtained which would preserve the record
for use as long as type will last. Generally
the utterance, to be reproduced, must be
made with the mouthpiece, where a whisper
has been reproduced; but a funnel mouth
piece and a delicate tympanum embossing
point would enable it to collect sounds—
as the testimony of a witness spoken at a
distance of three feet."
These are regarded as aeomplished facts :
'l. The captivity of all manner of sound
waves heretofore designated as 'fugitive,'
and their permanent retention.
"2. Their reproduction with all their
original characteristics at will, without the
presence or consent of the original source,
and after the lapse of any period of time.
"3. The transmission of such captive
sounds through the channels of commercial
intercourse and trade in material form, for
purposes of communication or as merchant
able goods.
"4. Indefinite multiplication and pre
servation of such sounds, without regard
to the existence or non-existence of the
original source.
"5. The captivation of sounds, with or
without the knowledge or consent of the
source of their origin.
'The probable application of these
properties of the phonograph to the various
branches of commercial and scientific in
dustry will require some ingenuity ; but it
will be used for 'letter writing' principally.
"The practical application of this form
of phonograph for communications is very
simple. A sheet of foil is placed in the
phonograph, the clock-work set in motion
and the matter dictated into the mouth
piece without other effort than when die
taring to a stenographer. It is then re
moved, placed in a suitable form of envelope
and sent through the ordinary channels to
the correspondent for whom designed. He,
placing it upon his phonograph, starts his
clock-work and listens to what his corres
pondent has to say. Inasmuch as it gives
the tone of voice of his correspondent, it
is identified. As it may be filed away as
other letters, end at any subsequent time
reproduced, it is a perfect record.
"As two sheets of tinfoil have been in
dented with the same facility as a single
sheet, the 'writer' may thus keep a dupli
cate of his communication. As the prin
cipal of a business house or his partners
now dictate the important business com
munications to olerks, to be written out,
they are required to do no more by the
phonographic method, and do thereby dis
pense with the clerk, and maintain perfect
privacy in their communications.
"The phonograph letters be dictated
at home or in the office of a friend, the
presence of a stenographer not being re
quired. The dictation may be as rapid as
the thoughts can be formed or the lips
utter them. The recipient may listen to
his letters being read at a rate from 150 to
200 words per minute, and at the same
time busy himself about hisj other matters.
Interjections, explanations, emphasis, ex
clamations, &c, may be thrown into such
letters, ad libitum.
"In the early days of the phonograph,
ere it has become universally adopted, a
correspondent in Hong Kong may possibly
not be supplied with an apparatus, thus
necessitating a written letter of the old
fashioned sort. In that case the writer
would use his phonograph simply as a
dictating machine, his clerk writing it out
from the phonograph at leisure, eausiug
as many words to be uttered at one time
as his memory was capable of retaining
until he had written them down. The
clerk need not be a stenographer, nor need
he have been present when the letter was
dictated, &c.
"Books —Books may be read by the
charitably-inclined professional reader, or
by such readers especially employed for
that purpose, and the record of such book
used in the asylums of the blind, hospitals,
the sick-chamber, or even with great profit
and amusement by the lady or gentleman
whose eyes and hands may be otherwise
employed; or, again, because of the greater
enjoyment to be had from a book when
read by an elocutionist than when read by
the average reader. The ordinary record
sheet, repeating this book from fifty to a
hundred times as it will, would command
a price that would pay the original reader
well for the slightly-increased difficulty in
reading it aloud in the phonograph.
"Educational Purposes.—As an elocu
tionary teacher, or as a primary teacher for
children, it will certainly be invaluable.—
By it difficult passages may be correctly
rendered for the pupil but once, after
which he has only to apply to his phono
graph for instructions. The child may
thus learn to spell, commit to memory a
lesson set for it, &c., &c.
"Music.—The phonograph will undoubt•
edly be liberally devoted to music. A song
sung on the phonograph is reproduced
with marvellous accuracy and power.—
Thus a friend may, in a morning call, sing
us a song which shall delight an evening
company, &c. As a musical teacher it
will be used to enable one to master a new
air, the child to form its first songs, or to
sing him to sleep.
"The phonograph will be used to record
wills and to preserve the last words of the
dying.
"For the preservation of languages and
the study of philology it will be invaluable.
"Phonograph Books.—A book of 40,000
words upon a single metal plate ten inches
square thus becomes a strong probability.
The advantages of such books over those
printed are to .:te idily seen to need mention..
Such books would be listened to where
now none are read.
"The phonograph sheet will supersede
all music boxes, presenting the very words
and mueh of the voice of the original
singer. But, unless great improvements
are made, the quality of voice will be in.
ferior to the original.
" Toys.—A doll, which will speak, sing,
cry or laugh in a natural voice, may be
promised our children for the next Christ•
mas
"Crocks.—The phonograph-clock will
call you to lunch, give you the hour, tell
you when to take medicine, send the lover
home at ten, &c.
"The phonograph will revolutionize the
telephone and telegraph by giving them a
voice and recording it for reproduction.
"A very simple device may be made by
which the one vibrating disk may be made
to do duty for both the telephone and the
phonograph, thus enabling the speaker to
simultaneously transmit and record his
message. What system of telegraphy can
approach that ? A similar combination at
the distant end of the wira enables the
correspondent, if he is present, to hear it
while it is being recorded. Thus we have
a mere passage of words for the action,
but a complete and durable record of those
words as the result of that action. Can
economy of time or money go further than
to annihilate time and space, and bottle up
for posterity the mere utterance of man,
without other effort on his part than to
speak the words ?
"In order to make this adaptation, it is
only requisite that the phonograph shall
be made slightly more sensitive to record,
and the telephone very slightly increased
in the vibrating force of the receiver, and
it is accomplished. Indeed, the Carbon
Telephone, invented and perfected by the
writer, will already well-nigh effect the
record on the phonograph; and, as he is
constantly improving upon it to cause a
more decided vibration of the plate of the
receiver, this addition to the telephone
may be looked for coincident with the
other practical applications of the phono
graph, and with almost equal certainty.
"The telegraph company of the future
—and that no distant one—will be simply
an organization having a huge system of
wires, central :and sue-central stations,
managed by skillful attendants, whose sole
duty it will be to keep wires in proper re
pair, and give, by switch or shunt arrange
ment, proper attention to subscriber No.
923 in New York, when he signals his de
sire to have private communication with
subscriber No. 1,001 in Boston, for three
minutes."
Pretty Work for Leisure Hours.
Among the pretty things for the parlor
which may easily be made at home are
lamp shades and window transparencies
cut from bristol board. For a lampshade,
take five pieces of bristol board, three
inches wide at the top and five at the bot
tom, and sloped like a dress gord on both
sides. On each of these, sketch lightly in
pencil, or, if your skill is not equal to this,
trace with impression paper any simple
picture you please. Flowers, leaves, a
spray of any sort, a vine with leaves, grapes
and tendrils, are all of effective and pleas
ing patterns. After the pattern is traced
take a sharp penknife and cut through
each line taking care to leave enongh of
the board intact at the base of each, so as
to prevent any part from being wholly de
tached and so fallinc , out. The design
may be colored on the reverse if desired,
and for this no skill is necessary—bold
strokes and dashes of color answered per
fectly, provided there is no blurring of
lines. We have seen some such shades
where, instead of using a knife, the de
signs were pricked with a pin or with a
large needle. When the parts of the
shade are all done, bind them with narrow
ribbon or gilt paper pasted on, and join
them together. This may be done by
making a hole at each corner of each gore
and tying them together by means of nar
row ribbon passed through the holes. If
a larger shade is desired, six pieces may
be made, but five will be sufficient for the
ordinary size. The effect of such a shade
will, when the lamp is lighted, be found
equal to the finest bisque or porcelain
transparencies. For windows, cut the
board in rectangular shape and proceed in
the same manner with your picture. We
have seen a head of Christ and a Madonna
and child beautifully executed in this easy
art-work. Your knife must be sharp and
your hand steady. It is well to fasten the
work to a drawing board, as artists do their
drawing paper, to hold it in place while
doing it, since this insures more regularity
in the strokes.
American Millionaires.
No street in the world represents in the
short space of two miles and a half, any
thing like the enormous aggregate of
wealth represented by Fifth Avenue, New
York, residents between Washingtan square
and Central Park. We give haphazard a
few names : Dr. Rhinelander, $3,000,- 4
000 ; M. 0. Roberts, $5,000,000 ; Moses
Taylor, 85,000,000; August Belmont,
$8,000,000; Robert L. and A. Stuart,
$5,000,000; Mrs. Paean Stevens, $2,000,-
000; Amos R. Eno, $5,000,000; John
Jacob and William Astor, $60,000,000 ;
Mrs. A. T. Stewart, $50,000,000 ; Pierre
Lorillard, $3,000,000; Jas. Kernochan,
$2,000,000 ; Win. H. Vanderbilt, $75,-
000,000 ; Mrs. Calvert Jones, $2,000,000 ;'
Mr. James Gorden Bennett, $4,000,000;
Mr. Fred Stevens, $10,000,000 ; Mr.
Lewis Lorillard, $1,000,000; total $248,-
000,000- Here we have some eighteen
families living near each other, who de
rive fixed yearly incomes from a capital of
between $240,000,000 and $250,000,090.
"WHAT is the best remedy," asked a
preacher of a shrewd observer, "for an in
attentive audience ?" "Give them some
thing to attend to," was the significant re
plp; "hungry sheep will look up to the
rack if there is hay in it."
For Ladies Only.
Perfuming the hair is a new freak.
Bonnets are more worn than hats.
Pocket handkerchiefs are very small.
Mastic is the last shade of putty color.
Combination costumes remain in fashion.
Black satin is becoming fashionable
again.
Black draperies grow beautifully less
and less.
Mastic is the color for gloves at the mo
ment.
Gold trimmings never look well by day
light.
No overskirts- are seen on fashionable
costumes.
Kilt skirts must be of the same length
all around.
Belts are worn with pleated or Grecian
corsages.
Rows of machine stitching will trim
summer dresses.
Colored pearl ornaments are on the new
spring bonnets.
Chauveret collars are the neat attraction
in new designs.
In silver tea sets the "Minerva" pattern
is one of the latest.
Pleated waists with and without yokes
are coining in vogue.
The yoke of the kilt skirt should fit the
hips like a glove.
New foliage for hats is made of rubber,
without wire stems.
The mania for beads and bead trimmings
is likely to continue.
The "ealla" is one of the favorite de
signs in flower embroidery.
Black thread lace collars and cuffs are
worn by elderly ladies.
Bonnets are trimmed with shaded moire
and satin faced ribbons.
Poppies and honeysuckle buds are fa
vorite artificials this season.
Basques are of simplest shapes, and are
not elaborately trimmed.
Ladies who love curios are collecting
cloissonne beads for necklaces.
Lace mantelets will be the favorites for
wearing with thin dresses.
Outside cuffs are made of silk pleating's
with fluted lace on each side.
Vests are shown on all kinds of dresses
from the plainest to the richest.
Spring bonnets are de riyueur at mati
nees and evening performances.
Girls are not allowed to smoke cigarettes
in Mexico until they are fifteen.
Broad, oval buekleA of tortoise shell are
the latest ornaments for the hair.
The new spring colors are in subdued
tints, such as drab, tan and silver.
Lace sets are now made up with hand
kerchiefs to match the collar and cuffs.
Silk covered cologne bottles are among
the pretty additions to the toilet table.
Crape coveted pins are worn by ladies in
mourning fur fastening the veil and shawl.
The old color. "ashes of roses," so long
out of fashion, will be revived this sum
mer.
A new bonnet is called the "Marie de
Medici," and has the front shirred on
wires.
An important feather trimming, made
of ostrich down woven on a surface, is a
novelty.
Summer mantles are of coarse black net,
entirely covered with rows of narrow black
lace.
New fans have borders of crimped silk
fringe instead of the feather borders so long
worn.
"Perle de Lyons," is one of the many
new colors this spring, and "Giuletta" is
another.
Lace scarfs, of elaborate figures and
tissue softness, will come in with the spring
hats and flowers.
Morning wrappers and loose robes will
be fashionable again in endless variety
for the summer.
The Byron collars and cuffs for ladies
are the latest, those in guipure embroidery
are the prettiest.
Card receivers of Russian leather, with
bouquets of flowers painted in the centre,
are new and pretty.
Parasols and sunshades differ in shape
from those of last year, being bell shaped
instead of canopied.
Pure white damask is preferred for
table linen, as it shows to advantage the
colored china now so much used.
The new style of bonnets for children,
which is destined to became popular, is
called the "Mother Goose."
Summer dresses are to be trimmed with
embroidered flounces in the Russian colors,
red, black, blue and yellow.
The handsomest evening dresses are
made of plush grenadine in solid colors,
such as ceil-blue, rose-pink and cream.
Colored grenadinea are announced to be
very fashionable for the coming summer.
They are seen in all the choice colors.
For watering-places are dressy costumes
of damask silk of light quality combined
with plain silk often of contrasting color.
Black drap d'ete and black cashmere
will again be favorite materials to make in
mantles and sacques to wear with any cos
tume.
In round hats, the Derby and the Eng
lish walking hat with square crown are re
vived, in finer straw and handsome black
chip.
There will be much costlier toilets worn
at the balls and receptions given after Lent
than were at those before the penitential
season.
Worth made fifteen toilets for the happy
Miss Hannah de Rothschild. They all
seem.to be a wondrous confusion of lace,
velvet and silk.
Bail dresses are either long trained four
reaux, or princess or empress dresses; or
if made with barques they simulate the
dress in one piece.
Long, narrow trains, either perfectly
square at the end or rounded to describe a
lozenge pattern on the floor, are de riguer
at the moment.
The corset is an Italian invention, but
the practice of tying one end of the string
to the bed post and pulling the liver cut
of shape, commenced in Louisville, Ky.
The Game of Euchre.
There is genuine humor in the idea that
an Arkansas man finds the most natural
expression, even of parting advice to his
son, in the language of the card table, and
the manner in which the terms of the game
of euchre are fitted to the game, is inge
nious.
"Bob, you arc about leaving home for
strange parts. You're about to throw me
out and go it alone. The odds are against
you, Bob; but, remember always, that in•
dustry an' perseverence are the winning
cards—they are the bowers. Book larnin ,
and all that sort of thing will do to fill up,
like small trumps, but you must have the
bowers to back 'em else they ain't worth
shucks. If luck runs against you pretty
strong don't cave in and look like a sick
chicken on a rainy day, but hold your head
up and make 'em believe you've got a flush
of trumps ; they won't play so hard against
you.
- "I've lived and traveled around some,
Bob, and I've found out that as soon as
folks thought you held a weak hand, they'd
buck again you strong. So when you're
sorter weak keep on a bold front, but be
cautious; be satisfied with a pint.
"Many's the hand I've seen euchered
'cause they played for too much. Keep
your eyes skinned, Bob; don't let 'em 'nig
on you ; recollect the game lies as mueli
with the head as with the hands.
"Be temperate ; never get drunk, fur
then no matter how good your hand, you
won't know how to play it; both bowers
and the ace won't save you, for there's
sartin to be a miss deal or something
wrong.
_ _
"Mother thing, Bob, (this was spoken
in a low tone) don't go too much on the
women. Queens is rather poor cards; the
more you'have of them the worse for you ;
you might have three and nary a trump.
I don't discard 'em all ; if you get hold of
one that's a trump, it's all good, and there
is sartin to be one out of four. And above
all, Bob, be honest ; never take a man's
trick wot do'n't belong to you ; nor slip
cards, nor 'nig , for then you can't look
your man in the face, and when that's the
case, th( re's no fun in the game; it's a
regular cut-throat.
"So, now, Bob,:farewell; remember what
I tell you, and you'll be sure to win, and
if you don't—sarves you right to get
skunked."
A Negro Exhortation.
The Rev. Alexander Clark has heard
some preaching among the colored folks in
Mississippi, and sends a verbatim report
of one of the sermons. Here it is exact :
"Now, bredren and sisters, we wants
mounahs heap to-night. No foolin'. Ef
you can't mounhn for you' sins, don' come
foolin' round' dis altah. I knows ye.
You's tryin' mighty ha'hd to be converted
'thout bein' hurt. The Lord 'spises mock
ery. Sometimes you sinnahs come foh'rd
and hold your head too high a-comin'.
You come foah you's ready. You starts
too soon. You don't repent. You's no
mounahs. You's foolin' wid de Lord.
You come struttin' up to de shah ; you
flops down on your knees, and' you peeps
fru your fingbas, dis way, an' you cocks
up you cabs to see who's makin' de bes'
pray'r. You's tirely to peart for peniten's.
You's no mounahs. Ef you comes here
to fool, you bettah stay away. Bettah go
to bell from de pew asleepin', or from your
cabin swearin' dan from de monah's bench
a foolin'. Ef you's not in airnes, keep
away from heah ; don't bodder us. Do
you want us to make ouhselves boa's an'
weah out ouch lungs prayin' for you, when
you knows you's only foolin' wid de Lord?
I tells you to be mighty cahful. I want
to see you a comin' so bu'dened by de
weight ob you sins dat you can't bald up
you head. I want to see you SO heart
! broke, dlt you knees knock togedder when
yen walk. You mus' be low minded. De
Bible lays great stress on de low. You's
got to get low down in de dus'. De good
book says 'Low (Lo !) in de vollem of de
book it is writ.' Now min' dat, an' be low."
Then addressing the members of the
church more particularly, he said : "Bred
ren in de Lord, you mus' be airnes' prayin'
for dese pore sinnaha. You mus' woke up.
In dis spring time ob yeah, wlien the
leaves is comin' an' de flowahs is a twink
lin' an' a bloomin', what does de leaves an'
de flowahs say ? Dey say 'Git up 1"
("Amen! dat so," from an old brother in the
corner.) "It is mohnin'; de day is break
in'; gi up ! Wake up in de mohnin' !"
("Amen I wake 'em up, Brudder Clinton,"
from the corner.) "Too many you, 'fessahs
ob 'ligion has been aleepin' on the wheels
ob time. Git up an' put yonah shouldah
to de wheels Den when you kneel roun'
dis altah to oomfoht de moanaha, dont
holler." "(Amen, hallewyer," yelled a
sister from the women's side.).;Every time
you hollers de debble'puts another thought
into your heart. You'd better" whispah to
de Lord dan to holler at de debble. Talk
low. Let de mounahs pray for demaelves.
You bodder dem wid your hollerin'. Git
down lon'side dem, an struct them when
dey la, but don't waste breff ober any
who's peepin' roun' listenin' for nice talk.
Don't tell de niounah to watch for visions
an' wait for miracles. J us' show dem how
to res' on de wohd an' resk de promises,"..
The Sorrows of Genius.
Homer was a beggar; Plautus turned a
mill; Terence was a slave; Bcethius died
in jail ; Paul Borgheze had fourteen trades
and yet starved with them all; Tasso was.
often distressed for five shillings; Beati
voglio was refused admittance into in
hospital he had himself erected! Cervantes
died of hunger; the celebrated writer of
"Lusiad," ended his days, it is said, in an
almshouse, and at any rate was supported
by a faithful black servant, who begged in
the streets of Lisbon for the only man in
Portugal, on whom God had bestowed
those talents which have a tendency to
erect the spirit of downward age; and Vage
las left his body to the surgeons to pay
his debts as far as the money 'Auld go;
Bacon lived a life of meanness and distress;
Sir Walter Raleigh died on the scaffold;
Spencer, the charming, died in want; the
death of Collins came through neglect,
first causing mental derangement • Milton
sold his copyright of "Paradise L ost" for
fifteen pounds, at three payments, and
finiohed his life in obscurity; Dryden lived
in poverty and distrees ; Otway diedire
maturely, and through hunger; Lee Zed
in the street ; Steele lived a life of perfect
warfare with bailiffs; Goldsmith's "Vicar
of Wakefield" was sold for a trifle to save
him from the grip if the law; Fielding
lies in the burying-ground of the English
factory at Lisbon, without a stone to mark
the spot; Savage died in prison at Bristol
where he was confined for the debt of
eight pounds; Bader lived a life of penury
and died poor ; Chatterton, the child of
genius and misfortune, destroyed himself.
NO. 19.