a
VOL. 42.
The lluntiugdon Journal.
....,
Office in new JOURNAL Building, Fifth Street.
TILE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL is published every
Friday by J. A. NASH, at 62,00 per annum IN ADVANCE,
or $2.50 if not paid for in six months from date of sub
scription, and 63 if not paid within the year.
No paper discontinued, unless at the option of the pub
lisher, until all arrearages are paid.
No paper, however, will be sent out of the State unless
absolutely paid for in advance.
Transient advertisements will be inserted at TWELVE
AND A-HALF CENTS per line for the first insertion, SEVIN
AND A-HALF CENTS for the second and FIVI CENTS per line
for all subsequent insertions.
Regular quarterly and yearly business advertisements
will be inserted at the following rates :
i• 1 I 1
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All Resolutions of Associations, Communications: of
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Advertising Agents must find their commission outside
of these figures.
All advertising accounts are due and collectable
when the advertisement is once inserted.
JOB PRINTING of every kind, Plain and Fancy Colors,
done with neatness and dispatch. Hand-bills, Blanks,
Cards, Pamphlets, &c., of every variety and style, printed
at the shortest notice, and everything in the Printing
line will be executed in the most artistic manner and at
the lowest rates.
Professional Cards
_
DR. G. B. HOTCHKIN, 204 Mifflin Street. Office cor
ner Fifth and Washington Ste., opposite the Post Of
fice. Huntingdon. [ junel4-1878
TA CALDWELL, Attorney-at-Law, No. 111, 3rd street.
3.J. Office formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods & Wil
liamson. [apl2,'7l
DR. A.B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his professional services
to the community. Office, N 0.523 Washington street,
one door east of the Catholic Parsonage. an4,'7l
DR. HYSKILL has permanently located in Alexandria
to practice his profession. [jan.4 '7B-Iy.
E. C. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentist. Office in Leister's
building, in the room formerly occupied by Dr. E.
.7 Greene, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2B, '76.
GRO. B. ORLADY, Attorney-at-Law, 405 Penn Street,
Huntingdon, Pa. Lnovl7,"7b
G.
ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T. Brown'm new building,
• No. 620, Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2.'7l
HC. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Office, No. —, Penn
. Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl9,'7l
TSYLTANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon,
el • Pa. Office, Penn Street, three doors west of 3rd
Street. Lian4,'7l
T W. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law and General Claim
ti • 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. Lian4,'7l
TS. GEISSINGER, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public,
.I.J. Huntingdon, Pa. Office, No. 230 Penn Street, oppo
site Court House. [febs,'7l
CI E. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa.,
. office in Mcwitor building, Penn Street. Prompt
and eareful attention given to all legal business.
(augs,'74-6mos
WILLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Hunting
"don, Pa. Special attention given to collections,
and all other legal bimineee attended to with care and
promptneee. Office, No. 229, Penn Street. [apl9,'7l
NEW
STOCK OF CLOTHING
AT
S. WOLF'S.
S. WOLF has just received a large stock of
CLOTHING, from the east, which he offers very
cheap to suit these panicky times. Below are a
few prices :
Men's good black suits $l2 50
cassimere suits 8 50
diagonal (best) 14 00
Warranted all wool suits 10 00 up
Youth's black suits 10 00 up
Cassimere suits 6 50
Diagonal (best) 11 50
Boys' suits 4 50 up
Brown and black overalls 50
Colored shirts 35 up
Fine white shirts 1 00 up
Good suspenders 18 up
Best paper collars per box 15
A large assortment of bats 75 up
Men's shoes 1 50 up
Large Assortment of TRUNKS, VALI
LISES and SATCHELS at
PANIC PRICES.
Trunks from $2 00 up
Umbrellas from 60 up
Ties and Bows very low.
Cigars and Tobacco very cheap.
Be sure to call at S WOLF'S etore No. 420 Penn
Street, southeast corner of the Diamond.
sepl'7Bl SAMUEL MARCH Agt.
CHEAP
KANSAS LANDS ! !
We own and control the Railway lands of TREGO CO.,
KANSAS, about equally divided by the Kansas Pacific R.
It., which we are selling at an average of $.3.25 per acre
on easy terms of payment. Alternate sections of Govern
ment lands can be taken as homesteads by actual settlers.
These lands lie in the Great Limestone Belt of Central
Kansas, the best winter wheat producing district of the
United States, yielding fom 20 to 3.5 Bushels per acre.
The average yearly rainfall in this county is nearly 33
inches per annum, one-third greater than an the much-ex
tolled Arkansas Valley, which has a yearly rainfall of less
than 23 inches per annum in the same longitude.
Stock-Raising and Wool-Growing are very remunerative.
The winters are short and mild. Stock will lice all the
year on grails I Living Streams and Springs are numerous.
Pure water is found in wells from 20 to 80 feet deep. The
HeaUhiest Climate in the World! No fever and ague there.
No muddy or impassable roads. Plenty of fine building
tone, lime and sand. These lands are being rapidly set
tled by the best class of Northern and Eastern people, and
will so appreciate in value by the improvements now be
ing made as to make their purchase at present prices on,
of the very beet investments that can be made, aside from
the profits to be derived from their cultivation. Member?
of our firm reside in WA-KEENEY, and will show lan,.
at any time. A pamphlet, giving full information in re
gard to soil, climate, water supply, &c., will be sent free
on request. Address,
Warren Keeney & Co.,
106 Dearborn St., Chicago, or Wa-Keeney, Trego Coon•
ty, Kansan. [Aprl2-Sm.
Patents
obtained for Inventors, in the United States, Cana
da, and Europe at rednced rates. With our prin
cipal office located in Washington, directly opposite
the United States Patent Office, we are able to at
tend to all Patent Business with greater promptness
and despatch and less cost, than other patent attor
neys, who are at a distance from Washington, and
who huve, therefore, to employ"associate attorneys:,
We make preliminary examinations and furnish
opinions as to patentability, free of charge, and all
who are interested in new inventions and Patentsare
invited to send for a copy of our "Guide for obtain
ing Patents," which is sent free to any address, and
contains complete instructions how to obtain Pat•
ents, and other valuable matter. We refer to the
German-American National Bank, Washington, D.
C. ; the Royal Sweedish, Norwegian, and Danish
Legations, at Washington; Ron. Joseph Casey,
late Chief Justice U. S. Court of Claims; to the
Officials of the U. S. Patent Office, and to Senators
and Members of Congress from every State.
Address: LOUIS BAGGER lc CO., Solicitors
of Patents and Attorneys at Law, Le Proit Building,
Washington, D. C. [apr2B '7B-tf
WM. P. & R. A. ORBISON
ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW,
No. 321 Penn Street, HUNTINGDON, PA.
pfr All kinds of legal buainesa promptly at
tended to. Sept.l3,'7B.
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Elle (stoq-Etiltr.
HARLEY'S CHANCES.
Previous to the great financial crash of
1837, Joshua Martin was deemed the most
prosperous merchant in the then frontier
city of St Joseph, Wisconsin. He was
noted for his sterling integrity and stain
less character ; and, if he reveled in wealth,
lie did not parade it before the eyes of the
people.
He came to St. Joseph in 1831, and at
once began to amass a fortune. Those
who pretended to know said that the mer
chant operated in Eastern stocks, and that
the bulk of his wealth was staked among
the Bulls and Bears of New York.
The memorable crash of that decade
which embraced the dates above written
ruined Joshua Martin. He had staked
everything in Eastern securities, and he
suddenly found himself a comparative beg
gar. Poor, blinded man He could save
nothing from the wreck, and he sat among
the ruins of his fortunes, like Marius among
those of Carthage. Forced to relinquish
the imposing residence which in his eager
ness to delve deeper into stock, he had
mortgaged away, he was obliged to remove
his family, consisting of a wife and one
daughter, to an bumble dwelling ; and
from the date of that removal the Martins
were no more mentioned in the fashionable
society of "St. Jo."
The trouble of the bankrupt's family did
not end here. The blow killed the mer
chant. Though a strong man, he could
not bear up under his loss. If a few
thousand had been taken from him, at in
tervals, he might have recovered and re
gained his lost position ; but the destruc
tion of tens of thousands at one sweep of
the waves overwhelmed. • He sank rapidly,
and died, leaving his family to buffet the
waves of the world and to do the best they
could among those who had once knelt at
their feet, but who now did not deign to
recognize them in the streets.
Mother and daughter took quite readily
to their new life. They sold much of the
gorgeous furniture which had ornamented
'their late home, but kept the piano and a
few other pieces which Maumee loved.
Maumee Martin had grown to bewitch.
ing womanhood during her life in St.
Joseph, and her accomplishments rivaled
her beauty. After the death of her father
—after her transformation into the child
of a despised bankrupt—she did not shrink
from the duties that fell to her lot.
She must live; she must earn her daily
bread ; and a week after the change of life
we find Maumee Martin plying the seam
stress's needle, or giving lessons in music
to a few children whose parents sent them
to her because she tanght cheaper than
regular preceptors
By an by the house which they or
e u pied was sold over their heads ; but the
new owner—a great, middle aged, but
somewhat handsome, man—assured them
that they should not be turned out.
The new owner was a stranger in St.
Joseph, but immediately purchasing the
property above mentioned, be opened a
commission store, and at once drew a thriv
ing patronage about him.
Andreas Harley, for such was his name,
came often to the house of the Martins,
and reports went abroad to the effect that
he intended to wed the bankrupt's widow.
"My chances are decidedly good," said
the merchant one evening, as he bent over
the countinc , room desk. "The girl ap
pears coy, but ' she will come about in time.
People think that I am after the widow,
but I never entertained a thought in that
direction. The beauty of the daughter
would draw the widow's most devoted
adorer to her side. That girl's a beauty.
She must become Mrs. Harley; she shall !
Yes," after a long pause, and as he slowly
turned from thedesk, "Ilarley.your chances
are good—decidedly good. You own their
house, and in the depth of winter you can
turn them out, if Maumee becomes stub
born and says 'No "
He was the sole occupant of the count
ing room, but as he crossed the threshold
and turned to lock the door he heard a
footstep and voice down the dark aisle.
"Hold a moment, Mr. Harley. Re
open the counting-room door, please. • I
wish a few words with you."
He did not reply, but stepped into the
cozy counting-room closely followed by
Philip Lee.
"Well ?" he inquired, turning suddenly
upon the handsome young clerk. "Speak
quickly, Lee ; I must be going."
"All I desire to say is that some of the
funds of the house have mysteriously dis
appeared."
C-•
cr
Don't Stop My Paper.
HUNTINGDON, PA:, FRIDAY DECEMBER 13, 1878.
"W'hat ?" cried the merchant, "Say that
again, hoy."
The young man repeated his words, and
added :
One afternoon, while you were absent
East, I placed $950 in the safe, and the
following. morning $45 were missing."
"You have committed an error in count
ing, possibly."
"If I cannot count money correctly when
it i$ before my eyes I deserve to be thrown
out of employment," said the youth in an
insulted air. "Several times during your
absence have I noticed the peculations of
some unknown person."
"Who had access to the safe ?"
"I held the keys, sir," answered Philip
quickly. "I have not missed them for a
single moment But the safe has been
opened by keys."
Andreas Harly dropped his bead in
deep thought, while the clerk stepped to
his desk and summed up various columns
of figures on the back ofan envelope which
he drew from an inner pocket.
"Three hundred dollars have been pur
loined within four weeks," said Lee, turn
ing from his desk.
"It staggers me," returned Harley.—
"But we will watch the thief, and if we
catch him he shall have his reward."
The merchant began buttoning his great
coat, and the clerk walked from the room.
Andreas Harley heard him close and lock
the outside door of the store, and then
stepped toward the desk, his dark eyes
fixed upon an object that lay thereon.
It was an envelope upon which Philip
Lee had been figuring.
"I'll look at his figures," he murmured;
but the next moment he turned the en
velope and stared at the superscription.—
It was merely, "Philip Lee, Present," but
the chirography startled the merchant.—
Those delicately-formed letters he had en
countered before. And, after closing the
counting-room door, he half fearfully drew
the letter from its hiding place.
For a moment his eyes remained fixed
upon the brief communication, when lie
started from the desk, while something
like an oath fell from his lips.
"So, Miss Maumee Martin," he cried,
hurling the letter to the floor, and gazing
angrily at it, "you possess a lover beside
Andreas Harley. Girl—woman—l will
not submit to this. If you prefer the em
ploye, to the employer you must hunt
another home. But, by heavens! you
shall not wed him as he stands before the
world now. He has held the keys to the
safe. He has robbed it ! The crime shall
be fastened upon him. Harley's chances
do not look so bright now ; but I fancy
that a little sternness will bring the girl to
terms. She's a beggar now, almost. Does
she want to marry another ?"
Then he picked the letter up, lead it
again, and placed it on the desk where the
youth had left it.
The contents of the missive did not
amount to much. It was merely a reply to
one which, during business hours, Philip
Lee had sent her ; but the appellation of
"Dear Philip" had opened a mine of in
formation to Andreas llarley. He had
never encountered his clerk at the home
of the Martins. They had spoken of him
but once or twice, and then casually ; and
he had suspected nothing until the letter
was thrown in his way.
Several days of quiet preceded the burst
ing of the storm.
Clerk and employer encountered each
other often, but no unusual words passed
between them. It was evident that Andreas
Harley was displeased at something, but
he took care to conceal his displeasure as
much as possible.
The night following the one that wit
nessed the scene in the counting room de•
scribed above witnessed the robbery of the
safe.
This time $3O were abstracted, and An
dreas Harley called one of the clerks,
Theodore Mason, to his desk, and acquaint
ed him with the facts.
Mason, upon being asked if he suspected
anybody, said :
"Lee."
The merchant started at the announce
ment, but a flush of triumph stole to his
temples.
"I saw Lee standing by the store last
night at 11, while I was going home from
the club," continued Mason, evincing an
eagerness to unburden himself of some
thing that preyed upon his mind. "He
did not speak as I passed him, but perhaps
he did not see me, as it was raining and
he carried his umbrella low—a little lower
than was necessary, I fancy."
"I am on the right trail," said Andreas
Harley, exultingly. "And yet," feigning
a sorrowful tone. "I do not want to think
the purlioner is Philip Lee."
"Nor do I," said Mason ; but circum
stances condemn him. I could tell you
more, Mr. Harley, but I do not like to
speak against Philip."
Andreas Harley persuaded Theodore to
unburden uis mind further concerning
Philip Lee, and that night the accused
clerk found himself in the clutches of the
law.
The arrest was so quietly conducted that
the public was unaware of the transaction
until the morning papers placed it before
their eyes.
Flushed with triumph, Andreas Harley,
on the morning following Philip Lee's ar
rest, hastened to the home of the Martins.
He often made such calls on his way to the
store, and this morning he found the bank
rupt's family pleased to see him.
Maumee was in the parlor preparing for
her class in music, and Andreas Harley
thought she looked lovlier than ever in
her plain dress and unnetted hair.
He did not doff his overcoat; he said he
had not long to stay; he had stepped in
to impart a piece of information which
might interest the tenants of his house.
The merchant's daughter wondered what
the news might be, as Andreas Harley
drew a morning journal from his pocket.
"I am sorry that I have occasioned this
paragraph," he said, touching the top of a
column of city news; 'but I could not
help it."
Maumee took the paper, and, in a mo
went, mastered the account of Philip's ar
rest.
"Mr. Marley, can not you be mistaken T"
she asked, when she looked from the paper
with pallid face.
"No, Maumee ; the proofs are convinc
ing against him," he answered, and then,
while the fair girl's head lay on her bosom,
amd her eyes, swimming in tears, fell to
the floor, he left his chair and came to her
side.
"Girl,'' he said, "is Philip Lee anything
to you ? '
Maumee quickly drew her hand from
his grasp and started to her feet.
"He is something to me," she cried,
facing the merchant, through whose schem
ing she seemed to have seen instantly.—
"He is much to me—and more, Andreas
Harley, he never robbed your safe."..
The merchant for some moments did not
know what to say, but at last he found his
tongue.
"Girl, he is guilty, I greatly regret to
say ;but you can save him."
"How, Mr. Harley ?"
"By becoming my wife I can liberate
him, and on such conditions the doors of
the jail shall be open to him."
Fire flashed iu :Maumee Martin's dark
eyes.
"Andreas Harley," she cried, "yonder
is the door that leads to the street," and
with quivering finger she pinted to the
portal.
"This house is mine."
"I care not "
"I can turn you out into the snow."
"There's the door, I wish to live
undQr such bounty as yours ne longer."
"I will not go until you promise to be
my wife," said the merchant, sternly.
At that moment the widow entered the
room, and Maumee sprang into the cham
ber which her mother had just vacated.
An instant later she reappeared, bear
ing a musket of quaint and clumsy work
manship.
"Go Andreas Harley," she cried, in a
determined tone. "Mother, please open
the door for the plotter."
Wondering what had transpired to mar
the friendship existing between Maumee
and the merchant, Mrs. Martin opened
the parlor door, and Andreas llarley, with
clinched hands and vengeful visage, strode
from the room.
No sooner had he departed than Mau
mee dropped the gun and threw herself
into her mother's arms.
"Oh, mother ! mother !" sho cried,
"how swiftly one misfortune follows
another. But," and she lifted her head,
"Philip shall not be condemned ! He shall
not fall the victim of a conspiracy—
never !"
Yet that day the 'Manias were driven
from beneath the riot' which had sheltered
them since their first great misfortune,
and they found a temporary abode with
Philip Lee's widowed mother.
Maumee soon learned the particulars of
her lover's arrest and peliminary examin
ation, and the following day she purchaged
a pistol with a portion of her musical
earnings.
When night came she mace her way to
Theodore Mason's chamber, and startled
the clerk by her abrupt appearance. The
young man's face assumed a deathly hue,
and Maumee's mental ejaculation was :
"I've found the right man."
She knew much of Theodore Mason's
habits, and she judged him to be the rob
ber of the merchant's safe. At first he
denied the charge, but when he saw the
pistol clutched by the girl's fair, white
hands, he changed his tune.
He wrote his confession on paper, and
Maumee called a young lawyer into the
room to witness the signature. The con
fession implicated Andreas Harley. The
clerk had been detected in his crime by
the merchant, who had promised to par
don him if he would aid him to convict
Philip, who, in time wedded Maumee
Martin.
Young Mason was permitted to eseap,
and when Harley heard of the confession,
he hastily disposed of his store, and fol
lowed him. The guilty clerk left behind
him the skeleton keys with which he had
opened the safe, and they still hang in the
luxurious home of Philip Lee, now one of
Chicago's merchant princes.
elett
Height of Sea Waves.
The height of sea waves is a question
that has been much and not always satis
factorily discussed. One difficulty arises
from a misunderstanding of terms Some
mean by the height of a wave the actual
elevation above the surface of the sea in
smooth weather, others mean the distance
between the bottom of the hollow of a wave
to its crest; and that seems to me the only
rational, practical way to arrive at anysure
data. Taking that, then, as the mode of
measuring wave heights, it may be said
Atlantic waves in a gale often rise twenty
five feet; thirty feet is by no means un
common in mid ocean, and the second wave
sometimes heaves to a height of thirty-five
or forty feet. Storm waves have a curious
rhythm of motion. At intervals three
waves larger than usual rush by, of which
the middle one is the highest. At longer
intervals five large waves coma together,
and very rarely seven. They often come
just as a squall begins to moderate, spring
ing up elastically from the pressure of the
wind. Sometimes the fury of the wind
fairly beats down the sea, and lashes and
tears it into foam or spoon-drift, that
sweeps over the ocean a white mist, like
snow blown over a frozen lake, and, when
such a tremendous squall lulls, the waves
instantly rise to enormous dimensions. The
length and form of waves depend upon the
room in which they have to run, and the
lirection of the tides. They are short and
abrupt in small seas or lakes. Among the
Channel islands the counter-currents and
tides sometimes raise the waves to over
forty feet in height. These estimates, the
result of long and careful observation, have
been confirmed by comparing them with
the experience of others who have also
given the subject careful study, among
whom I mention the captain of one of the
Canard steamers.
In hurricanes of course the waves are
far more tumultuous and broken, and near
the storm-center, pyramidal in form, owing
to contrary forces or cross-seas, and their
height is greater. It is not uncommon, off
the Cape of Good Hope, to see the waves
sixty feet high; but they come such a dis
tance they have a long, easy ascent, which
renders them generally less dangerous than
the more rugged waves of the Atlantic.
On the Shetland isles the breakers, rolling
from a distance of several thousand miles,
have a perpendicular height of sixty feet
when they heave on shore. In the hur
ricane of ISGG the sea broke completely
over Hog island in the Bahamas, and the
foam crest was repeatedly on a level with
the top of the lighthouse, sixty-eight feet
above the sea. There are photographs of
rollers at Madeira whose vertical elevation
is nearly forty feet above the beach. Nor
is it difficult to ascertain the length of
waves; one way of measuring them is when
an ocean steamer over four hundred feet
long is head on to the sea, and is rising to
meet a wave just as another one rushes
from under the quarter, a vast, roaring
mass, running over thirty miles an hour,
and leaving behind a long, steaming mane
of foam.-4ppleton's Journal.
THE first hours of slumber are the
sweetest. If ever a man sleeps the sleep
of the just, it is when he is just asleep.
WINE, cheese and friendship improve
with age.
A Boy's Life.
IN TIIREE CHAPTERS
CHAPTER 1.-" IT'S A BOY."
His advent is heralded in the brief but
strong sentence just quoted. No matter
what hopes have been indulged concerning
girl babies, there is something in the pithy
announcement, "It's a boy," which dis
pels all fanciful dreams and sets everybody
on a prose basis. His very voice, as it
utters a defiant warwhoop to the grand
army of humanity, tells the story to ex
perienced years. The visions of a dainty
girl darling very soon vanish before this
positive piece of prose, who kicks his stur
dy heels through the delicate pink socks
intended for his sister, and who grows red
as a turkey cock's head at Thanksgiving
times, when he is expected to show off to
a good advantage beforc callers. He per
sists in an abnormal developement of nose
and a puffiness about the eyes along with
several other little tricks known only to
interested parties. Parents and nurses be
come reconciled and accept him on trust,
seeing no other alternative. He emerges
from his puffy and rosy obstinacy to a ro
ly-poly, wide-awake thing of beauty, which
is a joy fully one-half of the time. There
is a process from infancy to little boy
hood, a sweet time, when the man-child is
half baby, half angel. In the clear depths
of his innocent eyes is a world of trust and
hope and love. His white brow is fair as
a freshly-opened filly, and his lips as sweet
as hermosa roses. lie is most witching
at this age, for the peculiarities which
mark the enfizni terrible are yet undevel
oped. He is an armful of love and beauty
and promise and dread and hope. Love
him while yet there is no guile on the
tender lips, no sin in the unwritten soul,
no touch of the world's breath upon God's
finished work.
CHAPTER. 11.-" MT UP, OLD HORSEY !"
"Mercy, what a noise ! Look at that
chair, with a string tied on the arms and
made fast to the writing desk and flower
stand, all to be driven tandem by that
young imp in kilt skirt and fancy hat and
shoes ! Who upset that work basket ?
and, good gracious, what work has been
made with my wool and thread ! There's
the last Graphic torn to scraps and stuff
ed in the cuspidore with my screw driver
that I lost a week ago. What is he doing
with the cat ? and, dear me, if he hasn't
thrown grandma's spectacles into the
grate ?"
Where's Harry ? Run to the kitchen
and see. All the eggs are broken in the
basket of folded clothes, and the milk for
pudding has been fed to the cat and dog.
Bridget Lannigan is in a towering rage
and says, "Phat's the use of shlavin to
kape clane wid such a young divil forninst
ye ?" Miss Frigidity Fussbunch calls,
and is horrified by being requested to "be
a horse and let Harry ride straddle to
Boston." She is questioned, also, on
many delicate points He gets very close
to her and asks what that white stuff on
her face is, and what makes her wear such
a funny little hat.
A few years of this juvenile terror and
then appears another stage of the boy.
He gets a fever only appeased by marbles.
It is useless to bead off this phase ; if it
is shut off in one direction it breaks out
more violently in some other. It goes
through a period of six or seven years,
and costs much in anxiety, broken win
dow panes and mortified pride. He is af
flicted with rats, pigeons and other boyish
complaints. which are harmless but annoy
ing. He brings in six dirty steel traps to
amuse his sick sister, who grows worse
under it, and in his solicitude he straps
his legs fast to six feet of stilts and stoops
to enter the door of her room, to the hor
ror and dismay of his mother. He brings
little notes home from school, which he
tries to explain in a favorable light, but
fails to convince his parents that it was
"only because Bill Wilson dropped his
slate on Abe Hennegan's toes and made
me laugh." He carves his awkward ini
tials on old Mrs. Williams' cellar-door,
and she threatens his arrest. He goes to
see "Humpty Dumpty," and comes home
and throws real brickbats at his aunt, and
Bridget is met with a battering blow from
his head when she is bringing in the coal.
He makes life a burden and home a snare
and a delusion. Ile tears the comforts in
more ways than one, and slits the pillow
cases to match them. Gradually he leaves
off his hurly-burly life and imperceptibly
glides into
CHAPTER 111.-" WHERE'S MY BLUE TIE?"
"Where's the blacking brush ? I am
going to a little surprise, and wont be
home till eleven. Is my percale shirt
done up nice ? I wish you'd make my
collars stiffer. I don't thank some one for
throwing my coat down and getting it
wrinkled all up. How do you like this
hat ? Think it looks better than my soft
one ?" You will find the pigeon boxes
all deserted about this period; not a rat
trap cumbers the back yard. The wood
shed theatricals are all ended ; the stilts
are put. away ; kites forgotten ; window
glass is in perfect safety. The dust has
filled up the rude initials in Mrs. Wil
liam's cellar door, and there is an unin
vited quiet all around the house. Chairs
stay in their places, and pantaloons will
no longer bear cutting over for the boy.
He gets them now out of 113 W stuff, 4nd
mother's "cut" will not satisfy him. He
is not in the way now, and there is a heavy
pain in mother's heart as she thinks that
he will never need her much more. The
innocent eyes have a deeper meaning in
them now. They have taken into their
depths the reflection of a face younger
than mother's and life begins to look real
to them.
The world is full of homes where these
pictures will be recognized and hung up
as fatally portraits—homes where there
are no sounds of young voices now. They
grow away into the great world so soon,
and we put away the nameless feeling of
desolation as we do the cast off toys of
their childhood;and when the evening
of life approaches the heart goes back
along the track of time, and is once more
with the children in the dear old long ago.
—Cincinnati Saturday Night.
A GEORGIA farmer bought a grand
piano for his daughter. His house is
small, and, to economize room, the lower
part of the partition between the kitchen
and the parlor was cut out, and the long
end of the piano stuck through. Priscilla
now sits at the keyboard, singing, "Who
will care for mother now ?" and the mother
rolls out doughnuts on the other end of
the piano in the kitchen.
Tastes are constantly changing. The
girl who had no appetite for onions at din
ner time, can be seen actively engaged be•
fore a large dish fell, after her young man
has taken his departure at night.
Shrimps.
On the shores of the Bay of San Fran•
cisco over 500 Chinamen are at the pres
ent time engaged in catching shrimps.
The southern portion of the bay seems to
be the choice location, and between South
San Francisco and the Eight-mile House
the shrimp catchers have located in large
numbers. There are six camps on the
Potrero side, near the bone factory, com
posed of twelve men each. Six more, with
an equal number of occupants, skirt the
shore between Buchertown and Hunter's
Point. Just beyond Hunte'sr Point are
two camps of thirty Chinamen, each, and
at the Eight-mile House there is one
camp containing forty Chinamen. Each
camp is a little community of itself, and is
governed by a contractor or "boss," who
consigns the cured shrimps to Chinese
commission merchants on shares. The
contractor, who is generally the represen
tative of some firm in the city, furnishes
food and clothing to his employes, and
the sum paid as wages is consequently
very small.
It would at first thought, in view of the
stringent fishery laws in force in Califor
nia, seem impossible to snare shrimps with
out catching a considerable number of
small fish. This difficulty is obviated by
selecting a point where there is from
twelve to twenty fathoms of water, and
sinking the nets to a level beneath that
usually traversed by fish. It is of course
impossible to avoid trapping some of the
smaller fish in raising the nets. The nets
used are funnel shaped, and about thirty
six feet in length. The diameter at the
mouth is eighteen feet, but decreases by
gravitation to one foot at the lower ex
tremity. The mesh is usually a half inch
on the square for a distance of thirty feet
from the orifice, but is less than a quarter
of an inch in width from that point to the
smaller end. The time chosen for setting
the nets is when the tide is coming in,
and they arc allowed to remain in the
water until after the ebb. They are then
lifted and the contents conveyed to land.
The camps described possesses thirty-six
boats, and five men constitute a crew.
Each boat contains from twelve to fifteen
nets, and twenty baskets of shrimps at a
single catch is a fair average. These
baskets will hold about 150 pounds each.
After landing, the shrimps are placed in
vats of boiling water, with a fire under.
Death, and boiled for about an hour, being
frequently sprinkled with course salt. They
are then spread out on hard, dry ground
and left to dry and bleach for three or four
days, being frequently turned. At the ex
piraticn of this time the shells, spawn, and
dirt are either detached or in such a dry
and cracked condition as to be easily re
moved. A force of Chinamen is then put
to work tramping the beds of dry shrimps
with their heavy wooden shoes. They go
overand over the mass, sliding their feet
as does a negro dancer when he is shuf
fling over the stage. The tramping pro
cess concluded, the miscelaneous mixture
is put into a winnowing machine, where
the shells are separated from the meat as
perfectly as chaff is from grain. There are
three spouts to the separator, through one
of which the whole shrimps are shot into
a basket, the other spouts are used respect
ively for the shrimps crushed by the
tramping and detached hulls. Thus dried
and skinned the shrimps are put in bags
and sent to the city. A few of them are
shipped to China, but owing to the
high rate of transportation, which makes
the article more of a luxury than a com
modity in that country, the export trade
has not, proved profitable. The first price
of dried shrimps in San Francisco is from
sto 8 cents per pound. A sack eontain
lng 150 pounds of the undried article will
produce from 8 to 10 pounds after the
drying process. Before curing, the spot
price of shrimps is from 1 to 3i cents per
pound. The principal camps of Chinamen
are in the interior towns, where the
shrimps command a high figure, and when
made into soup are esteemed a dainty dish.
The broken shrimps whose segregation
has been alluded to, are ground into a
coarse flour, which retails at from 3 to 4
cents per pound. A use has also been dis
covered for the shells, and they are shipped
exclusively to China. There they are
valuable as manure, and as a poison to the
worm which works such destruction to the
tea plant of that country. There is nearly
as much profit from the sale of the crushed
shells as from that of the shrimps them.
selves. The Chinamen state that this is
the only remedy at present known for the
tea pest, and the heavy shipments indicate
that this light yet bulky article has more
virtues than those of any fertiliser.
The extent to which the business of
shrimp catching in the bay of San Fran
eisco has advanced is most remarkable.—
The amount of business at first hands will
reach $15,000 per month, and new markets
are constantly opening. At certain periods
the demand is so great that two trips into
the bay are made daily, which nearly
doubles the amount of ordinary supply,
and necessitates the employment of a large
force of extra men. The most serious dis
advantage to the trade is that it can at
present be prosecuted only during the dry
season, the rain preventing the exposure
of the shrimps for drying purposes. This
difficulty will probably be obviated as the
business enlarges, by the drying and crush.
ing of the shrimps in heated rooms, in
stead of the open air, during the winter.
—San Francisco Bulletin.
TIIOU SHALT Nor PASS.—A ticket
agent in Rochester has been searching the
Scripture with an eye to business. On his
advertising card appears the following le
gend : "In those days there were no
passes given ;" and underneath are the fol
lowing texts ; "Thou shalt not pass."—
Numbers xx., 18. "Suffer not a man to
pass."—Judges iii., 28—Nahum i., 18.
"None shall ever pass." Isaiah, xxxiv., 10.
"This generation shall not pass."—Mark
xiii., 30. "So he paid the fare and went."
—Jonah i, , 3.—.Arciv York Tribune.
"PRrsoN ER at the bar," said the Judge,
"is there anything you wish to say before
sentence is passed upon you ?" The pris
oner looked wistfully towards the door,
and remarked that he would like to say
"good evening," if it would be agreeable
to the company. But they wouldn't let
PARLOR matches don't go off any bet
ter though they make more fuss than
those made over the front gate.
YOUNG mother : "What do children
my when they get candy ? Infant recipi
tent of confection : "More !"
SUNBURNED sea-moss as a fashionable
color, quite usurps the place of elephant's
breath and mad rooster.
SUBSCRIBE for the JOURNAL.
The Ocean Floor.
Here is an end of all romance about
hidden ocean depths. We can speculate
no longer about peris in chambers of pearl,
or mermaids, or heaped treasures and
dead men's bones whitening in coral caves.
The whole ocean floor is now mapped out
for us. The report of the expedition sent
out from London in her Majesty's ship
Challenger has recently been published.
Nearly four years were given to the exam
ination of the currents and floors of the
four great oceans of the world. The At
lantic, we aro told, if drained would be a
vast plain, with a mountain ridge in the
middle running parallel with our coast.
Another range crosses it from Newfound
land to Ireland, on top of which lies a
submarine cable. The ocean is thus di•
vided into three great basins, no longer
"unfathomed depths." The tops of these
sea mountains are two miles below a sail
ing ship, and the basins, according to Re
clus, fifteen miles, which is deep enough
for drowning if not for mystery. The
depths are red in color, heaped with vol
canic masses. Through the black, mo
tiobless water of these abysses move gi
gantic abnormal creatures, which never
rise to the upper currents.
There is an old legend coming down to
us from the first ages of the world on
which these scientific deep sea soundings
throw a curious light. Plato and Solon
recorded a tradition, ancient in their days,
of a country in the western seas, where
flourished the first civilization of mankind,
which, by volcanic action, was submerged
and lost. The same story is told by the
Central Americans, who still celebrate in
the fist of Iscalli the frightful cataclysm
which destroyed this land with its stately
cities. De Bourbourg and other arcba3ol
- assert that this lost land extended
from Mexico beyond the Wes Indies.
The shape of the plateau discovered by the
Challenger corresponds with the theory.
What if some keen Yankee should drudge
out from its unfathomed slime the lost
Atlantis ?—E.r.
Taking Cold.
How shall a person wbo is sensitive to
cold, who takes cold whenever a door is
opened or a window raised—how shall
such a person acquire that hardihood
which enables him to endure exposure and
avoid taking cold ? In the first place,
he should spend a considerable portion of
each day out of doors. He should
do this at all seasons of the year and
in all kinds of weather. Secondly,
he should watch with the greatest
care the temperature of the room in which
he spends the remainder of his time—
both the living room and the dormitory.
Thirdly, he should each day bathe his
chest ani neck, and, if he can bear it, his
whole body in cold water, and follow this
with a vigorous rubbing with a coarse
towel. What is called the splash bath is
perhaps better than any other for this
purpose. It consists simply in dashing
water against the body with the band.
This causes a slight shock to the skin,
which brings the blood to the surface,
while it causes an involuntary, deep in
spiration of air, which expands the lungs
and increases the force of the circulation.
This can all be accomplished in a few
minutes, and should be followed by a little
brisk exercise in a cold room or in the
open air. Of course a person unaccustom
ed to this should not commence in cold
weather ; but beginning in the summer,
he will find, as the winter approaches, that
his ability to endure the bath will increase
with the falling of the thermometer, and
that his susceptibility to changes of tem•
perature will be greatly diminished.
The Smoke Nuisance.
What is smake? It is made up of mi.
nute particles of unburnt carbon ; it is
fuel thrown away. The torrents of black
vapor from our chimneys and smoke pipes
contain thousands of tons of coal lost be
cause we have not learned how to save it.
The time will come when this will be
reckoned as foolish as we should now con
sider it to shovel coal into the sea, as we
used to dispose of the refuse from gas
works, which has become the source of au
many useful and valuable products. The
chemical lecturer of the next century will
tell his audience how long it was befure
the world learned to burn fuel without
blowing a good part of it into the air.
He will grow facetious as he describes
the appearance of great cities perpetually
covered with a ball of vaporous blackness.
"Why, in the dark age," he will add,
"their railway engines used to drag long
streamers of dirty smoke behind them, and
011 e could not ride in the cars withoia
having his eyes and nostrils and throat
filled with cinders and dust; and, incred
itably as it may seem, this was tolerated
for many years, the introduction of smoke
less locomotives being one of the last ins
provements introduced into our railway
system." and his hearers will say to them
selves, "What a terrible ordeal a long
railway ride must have been in those bid
old times."
Bob Ingersoll's Ideas on Family Gov—
ernment.
I havn't got any. I don't believe in
family government. I don't correct uiy
children at all. I warn them of the con
sequences of evil habits, but I tell them
they could never do anything bad enough
to cause me to hate or to disown them. I
keep a pocketbook in a drawer, and they
go and help themselves to money when
ever they want it. They eat when they
want to and what they want to. They
may sleep all day if they choose, and sit
up all night, if they desire. I don't at
tempt to coerce them in any way. I nevi r
punish, never scold. They buy their osit
clothes and are masters of themselves. I
teach them that everything we have we
own in common; it is just as much theirs
as mine. Here's a sample of the way I
handle my children ; One of them got a
valuable illustrated book one day, and
marked it and tore it. I came in and asked
the little girl who did it. She said, "I did
it." I took her up and kissed and hugged
her and gave her lots of good advice She
never troubled me since. If at) , children
lie, I tell them, "Bless your soul," I've
lied myself a thousand times, but I never
made anything by it." I tell them lying
don't pay. Don't claim before your chil
dren to be any better than you are. Be
honest with your children, if yon want
them to be honest with you..
NOTHING' will make a woman so amd
on Sunday morning, when she
is squint
ng across the street to see that delayed
new bonnet go in, as to find tint she
hasn't been holding the cup under the
coffee mill.
NO. 49.