The American Voluntee:
, PUBLJSHHD ETJSRY THURSDAY MORNING
X ' BT ■ * '
1 John Bi Bratton.
>;;!•. amos-so uth harked 6q uarb.
Tbbhb.*-»Two dollars per year If paid BtrioU;
In advance. Two Dollars and Fifty Cents I
paid within three months, alter which Tim
Dollars Will bo .charged. These terms will be
rigidly adhered to In every Instance. No sub
soriptlon discontinued until all arrearages are
paid, unless pt,the option of the {
|Nical.
THE'OUT MOE TOE INTAHO7.
A boat lay on tho summer son.
The light waves round It leaping,
While laughing sunbeams, bright and free,
Play’d o’eraa-lnfantßlcoplng. ■
And far away that bark ingleo .
Was o’er bright deep straying,
While all around the dimpling sea
. With zophrs soft was playing.
And oh I ’twos sweet, around that child .
To see the ripples dancing;
And o’er its brow, so soft and mild,
The sunbeams brlgh lly glancing.
And oh I I wished that naught ,mtgh t break
The angpl-spell that bound It.
Or from its dreams the spirit wake
That play'd so soft around It,
But when far oIT upon the sky,
I saw the tempest lower,
A mournful tear bedlmm’il mine eye.
For that unconscious flower.
For still that bark, so frail and light,
Was o’er the billows sweeping;
And still within, os fair and bright.
That Infant form lay sleeping.
I turned away, for who could see
That child awake to sorrow;,
jjbe brightest smllo so swift io Hoc .
“That earth from heaven may borrow.”
Tor well I knew tho angiy wave. .
Would soon In wrath .surround It,
And make Its wild and lonely gravo
'Mid ocean weeds that bound it.
Ah ! thus, methoiighii on life's frail tide
We make bur youthful pillow;
And gaily o’er its waters glide,
From billow on’to billow.
Blitah ! too soon the angry storm
Blots out each Vision brightest, ‘
And oft, alas t it wraps the form
In which the heart boats lightest.
IPktltatJiis..
AEMAITD.
A. TRANSLATION
A poor workman named Bertrand had
six young children, and he was very
much troubled bow to support them,, By
increasing misfortune the year was ster
ile, and bread sold for twice, as much as'
the ybar bbMe*' .JJarttirnd labored, day
and night; and although he worked very
bard, it was impossible to earn even
enough of the poorest kind of bread to
satisfy the hunger of his famishing cblK
dran.THe wits greatly discouraged.' One
day he called together his. little family,
and with tears in bis eyes he said:
"My dear chlldVen, bread has. become
so dear that; with all my labor, I cannot
earn enough to support you. You see
that J have to pay as much for this little
piece of.bread as 1 earn in one day* You
must be content to divide with the little
I can procure j there certainly will not
be enougit to satisfy you* but there will
be at least enough to keep you from
starving/*
The poor man could say no more. He
raised bis eyes toward Heaven and be
gan to weep. His children wept also,
and each one said, “May God come to
our aid, poor little unhappy ones that we
are. Help, our Father, and do not let us
die of.hunger.”
Bertram! divided bis bread into seven
equal parts. He kept one piece for him
self and distributed the others among the
children. But one of them who was
called Arraand refused to receive his por
tion, and, said “I cannot take any, my
father, I feel sick, eat my share or divide
it among the children.”
"My poor child, what .is the matter ?”
said Bertrand, taking him in bis arms.
“I'am sick,” replied Armand, “I am
very, very sick, I want to go to bed."
Bertrand carried him to his bed, and
the next morning, overwhelmed .with
grief, be went to a doctor and begged'
him to come out of charity to see his sick
eon and to help him. The doctor who
was a pious man went to Bertrand’s al
though he was sure that be should.not
be paid for his visit. He approached At
maud’s bed, felt of his pulse, but did not
Qnd any symptoms of disease. He found
that he was very weak, and to reanimate
him be wanted to prescribe something;
"Do not order anything for me,’ for I
will not take anything."
"You will hot take it I and why not if
you please?”
“Do not ask me, sir, for I cannot tell
you.”
“And what prevents you, my child?
You seem to be quite an obstinate little
boy.”
“Doctor, it is not obstinacy, I assure
you."
“I am glad to hear it, but I do not un
derstand yoti, I will ask your father, who
perhaps will not be so mysterious.”
“Ah, I beg you say nothing to my
father about it.”
“You are a vary strange child, I must
absolutely Inform your father, because
you willnot tell me." .
"Oh, sir, be careful, I would rather tell
you, but first I beg you will send my
brothers and sisters out,” .
The doctor ordered the; children to go I
out, and then Armand said ;
“Alas, sir, in a .time so.hard It is with
difficulty that my father is able to earn a
little poor . bread- Ho divides .It among
us. Each one has a email piece, and be
wishes to leave almost nothing for him
self. It makep me feel sad to see my
brothers and sisters endure hunger. I
am the eldest: and have pore strength
than they have, i would rather not sat
so that they can, divide my. porllou. It
is for this thi(f Xpyetend.'.to be sick and:
cannot eat, but I beg you not to lot my
father know anything about It.”
The doctor wiped his eyes and said :
“But are you not hungry, my dear
friend?”
"I hog your pardon, sir I am very hun
gry, but that does not hurt me bo much
os to see them suffer.”
"But you will die eoou If you do not
nourish yourself.” -
"I feel It, sir, but I will.die willingly ;
my father will have ope mouth less to
fill, and when I am with the good God I
will pray Him to give something to my
little brothers and sisters to eat.”
The honest doctor felt extrema compas
sion and admiration at bearing a child
talk so generously. He took him in his
arms and embracing him said:
"No. my dear friend, yo« will not die.
Q od, the father of every one, will take
oate of you and your family. Thank
Him for having sent me here. I will re
turn soon.”
Ho ran to hla house aud loaded one of
ms servants with all sorts of provisions,
and returned with him quickly to Ar
aud and his famishing brothers. He
Pmoed them all around the table and
% 7t ;W.14. .. w 1 4
BY JOHN B. BRATTON.
made.them eat until they were satisfied*
It was a charming night for the good doc
tor, to see the joy of the Innocent crea
tures. On going- n|it he requester! Ar
manduoL to worry •Inaiself for he wui'hl
provide for all their necessities. Kiiel
day he sent thenvsn.iihmidance nfnour
isbmeut. Other ohorilable - persods* to
whom he told hie adventure Imitated.his
benevolence. Some sent provision*.
some money, some suits of clothes’and
linen, so that lon few days afterward fhe
little family hud more than they, needed.
As soon ns the prince was told whai the
brave little Armaud had done for his
father and brothers, full of admiration
for so much generosity, he sent for Ber
trand and said to him:
“You have an admirable child ; I want
to be’a father to him also. I have order
ed to be given you every year in my
name the sum of a hundred crowns,
Armand and all your children shall.be
educated at my expense In any traid©
that they choose, and if they profit by It
I will have the care of their fortunes.’* ■
Bertrand returned home overcome
with Joy, and throwing himself, upon
his knees thanked God for having given
him such a worthy child.
An Englishman's Mistake.
The Continental papers nre circuia
ting a story of an Englishman and his
wife who, not knowing a word of Ger
man, but being able to express them
selves well in French, resolved to vis
it Berlin and Dresden. Atßeriin’they
had been recommended a hotel, width
er they were riding in a hack, when ail
at onee the lady espied 'an, imposing
edifice, upon which were inscribed In
large lettbfs, the words ‘.‘Hotel Radzie
viil.” i .
She cried out : “ There is a beautiful
hotel, and the situation Is splendid.”
“Suppose we go there?”"suggested
the husband, ,
It was dbiie as soon as said. The
driver was stopped. There were seve
ral ladies about the hotel, but 'none 1 of
them spoke either, English,. or French.
However, the servants were made to
..understand by gestures that they were
to take in the luggage, and the travel
ers were ceremoniously Conducted into
an apartment. ; ■ ; .
The lady asked by signs for a sleep
ing room, to which she was led, and,
on her return; said to her husband: :
“Inever saw In ail my life a hotel
so admirably furnished. Come and See
the chamber and sleeping room.”
.Having dressed, our English folk
lunched, and announced to the servant
that they would dine at five.
They went to walk; On their return
a gentleman of distinguished appear
ance entered their robm, saluted them,
and said something in German, which
they did not understand.
The Englishman thinking him a lit
tle familiar, replied carelessly, in En
glish: " Good-morning. How do you
° 0? ’ And the stranger withdrew.
A delicious dinner was served.
When the servants had gone, “ My
dear,” said the gentleman to his wife,
“ all this is excellent. This hotel is
evidently first class. But it must be
veiy dear, and, as a matter of prudence
it will be well to ask for the bill to
morrow morning.”
But he neglected to do bo, and two
days more passed like the first.
At last tho bill was asked for, but It
was not brought.
“ I am beginning to be a little un
easy, my dear,” said the husband.
Surely no one could be better cared
for than we are here, but lam persuad
ed the charges will be frightful.”
At that moment the gentleman of
distinguished appearance entered, and
the following dialogue took place in
French:
•The stranger: “lam Prince Badzie
vill.”
The Englishman (rising and bringing
a chair): "To what may I attribute
the honor of this visit?”
The Prince: “You .have evidently
taken this house for a public hotel.”
The Englishman: “ Certainly.”
The Prince: “ Weil, this is my pri
vate house, my hotel.” '
The Englishman was so astounded
thathe could make no reply, and could
not explain the mistake of his wife,
wlip, in the greatest consternation, be
gan to tell the prince, in English, that
the word "hotel” had caused, her
‘error. , i ,
The Prince, who saw their.cohfuslon
politely expressed'’hie satisifactlbn at
having given hospitality to English
people, and begged them to re-
main a few days longer that ho might
enjoy their society. Of course the in
vitation was politely declined. The
Englishman succeeded in making the
servants accept a few presents, and the
prince .Insisted. upon -accompanying
them to a real hotel in his own car-
rluge. Prince Radzievlll is the Rus-
sian ambassador at Berlin
Tbs Indian at Home.
A correspondent writing from Co
lumbus, beyond Omaha, on the pacific
Railroad, says:
At Columbus we found “Lo,” the
“noble red man, the son of the forest.”
Ho was here in various forms—warri
ors, squaws, and pappooses. The “Paw
nee Reservation” la only twenty miles
from this town, and this explains why
the Indians are seen here in greater 1
numbers than in places more to the
eastward. The Indians gather around
every train, and the squaws, each with
a pappooso of her own or a borrowed
one, good-naturedly solicit money
They use but few words, but these they
often repeat: “Pappoosa-thirty cents
—give It to her.” “Pappoose—thirty
cents—give it to her.” The Indian ap
pears to better advantage the farther
off you view him. “ Distance lends
enchantment,” &c. , .
As Indians appear now around rail
road stations, they are an unwashed
and an uncombed exhibition of human
ity. Many were encamped near by,
and from those tbqt hovered around
our train, one littlo Indian girl,
scarcely ten years old, had caught up a
little child and tied It upon her back,
that she, too, I suppose, might call out
VJ
'.to thirty
cents—glyo it to her.” The Indians,
we find, are not held in very high jeatl
mation by the people in the Westland
our conductor declares that he has been
iinabig to find, the flratnian who could
tell tell what an Indian was good for..
■The Indians have ceased to show any
hostility to the railroads. Only'once, I
believe, have, they attempted.to throw
off the train on the plains. Once they
tore up the trade, and thus threw oil a
freight train.' Afterwards the old chief
•who did it explained that he siippbsed
that if they tore up the track in odd place
it would put the railroad company jun
der the necessity of going back and; re
lating the whole track, ijut when he
saw, the trains running as usual j the
very next day, he- said, “ White man
tod much for Indian,” and that he
should hot trouble the trains any, more.
There is one conductor on the Union
Pacific who, about three years ago; was
attacked by a band of these red. men,
scalped and left for dead. He had left
his train—a freight train—for a few
moments, and had gone only a short
distance from the station. Fortunately |
ho was soon found by Ilia men, tender,
ly cared for, at length restored to con
sciousness, and finally he fully recov
ered
Although there is now no danger
from the Indians, each train, as a pre
cautionary measure; is with
tbbpbest arms falid a good Supply of
ammunitioij. Even this precautionary
measure may soon be dispensed with,
'for the Indlahs will. dot. long be found
Where there are railroads and the,
activity of business which railroads do :
voiop.
~ ■an itoiaha mtop;ee.
The Darkest ,of Murder Mysterie^.
Henry AV.'Armstrong, a well-known
citizen of Madisbn, Indiana, and one of
the proprietors of the Madison marine
railways,, about eleven
o’oiodk bn the night‘of!‘October 17th,
under olroumaUhced’ftiat rival in myste
ry the celebrated Nathan murder case of 1
New York. The evidence before the
coroner’s jury disclosed the following.
facts: Mr. Armstrong had not been
Jiving amicable with his wife for some
time past. During the . .previous two
woeJiß.hiß .bMbeenjet and
his*partner received a jotter from him,
asking . for. information regarding:his
famlly. Mr. Jonoa Informed him that
hto wife was selling off and preparing to
move to Newi Orleans.
Mr. Armstrong unexpectedly returned
home on the night In question and wont
to bis wife’s room; up Stairs,'where, Mrs.
Armstrong says, he beat her, abused her
In every manner, and finally dragged her
down stairs. At the foot of the stairs
she screamed, and ho released her. She
went up stairs immediately, crying, into
a fob® occupied by her two daughters,
when presently they heard a pistol shot',
the daughters remarking It, but no fur
ther attention was paid to it.' Mrs. Arm
strong then wanted her sister to go down
stairs with tier while she fastened the
door through 'which her husband had
gone out, and, as she supposed, had left
open. This her sister was afraid to do,
and Mrs. Armstrong called Andrew Mc-
Manaman, who occupies the house next
door to come. Mr. MoManaman an
swered the summons, and coming Into
the yard found the body of Mr. Arch,
strong;lying across the walk, with a bul
let hole just at the corner of the eye.
Upon examining the body, the fore
head was found to be covered with brui
ses, and one of his hands was somewhat
out and torn. These injuries, Dr. Col
lins testified, from their appearance had
beeu inflicted immediately before death,
showing that, the deceased had beeu en
gaged 'in a violent struggle. In refer
ence to the probability of the wound be
ing self inflicted, witness observed that
there was but a possibility that such was
the case. To Inflict the wound himself,
Mr. Armstrong would have been obliged
to use the left hand, and hold the pistol
In a very unnatural manner: In addi
tion to this, were the wound self inflict
ed, powder marks would have been found
on his face, and the weapon on or near
the spot, neither of which facts wore the
case.
The most mysterious,part of the affair
Is how Mr. Armstrong got In the -house..
That bo was lusldo Is proved by thefoot
that the body was found without boots,
and the boots were foUbd In the parlor.
Mr. McManamnn' Stale's , that,,when ho
arrived all the doors were fasti ;'Mrs.
Armstrong says that she thought he bad
entered through the cellar buttbejury,
after examining the premises, think be
did not. That the case la one, of murder,
and not of sulolde, there can be no rea
sonable doubt.
Abtemus Ward, In one of his letters
thus gives his ideas of organization: "I
Rover attempted to reorganize my wife
bht;dhce. I shall never do It again.
I’d been to a public dinner,- and had
allowed myself to be betrayed into
drlnklrt’ to- several- people's' healths ;
and wishing to make them as robust as
possible, I continued drlnkin’; their
health until my own was affected. Con
sekence was, when I presented myself
at Betsy’s bedside late at night with
considerable liquor concealed,aboßt-my
pbfsonVfhad somebo'w got .‘possession
of a horsewhip on my way, and re
memberin’ some cranky observation of
Mrs. Ward’s in the morning, T snapp
ed the whip putty lively, and in a very
loud voice I said: ‘Betsey; you need
organizin’; I have come; Betsey’—l
continued, crackin’ the whip over the
bed—‘l have come to organize you.’—
I dreamed that night that somebody
laid a horse-whip across mo several
times, and when I woke up I found
she had. 1 haln’t drank much of any
thing since; and If I have another re
organizin' Job, I shall Jet It out.”
“Mamma, says It is not polite to ask
for cake,” said a little boy. “No,” was
the reply, “ it does not look well in little
boys to do so.” “ But,” said the urchin,
" she didn't say I must not eat a piece If
you gave It to me.”
Hugging sot to music” la the term
applied by a White Sulphur Springs cor
respondent ton “Gorman” which lasted
two hours.
t »
-FVwn (he New York Sum'
JOHM VISITS WABHDTQXOir.
Benunisoenoos of the Lohstei-haoi; Invasion.
Two Striking Things—2he LemonrPeel
Around the Capitol—New York Gar
dens—She Story of Holla’s Wife—A
Wonderful Telegraph Line—Shoema
kers and Bakers. .
Washington, November, 1872.
This Is the State of the district of Col
umbia. It hails here sometimes, hence
“Hall Columbia.” There are two.
towns in D. 0. One is Georgetown and
the other is Washington town, and the
two together spells George Washington,
who was the original father of his coun
try, and who was the original cherry
tree killer, too. Washington is on the
Potomac, “the river of swans,” be
tween the Amacosta and Bock creek.
Ann Acosta Isa distant relation to Ann
Apolis—some miles distant.
Washington is tho first meridian of
ail American geographers. Its public
buildings and ita.publio servants occii
py elevated positions; If some of those
public servants had occupied still more
elevated positions posterity would profit
by it.
The Capitol is‘a capital building. It’s
got a bell pn the top of it. This bell is
the Goddess of Liberty, Jn wlnterit’s
a cold Goddess of Liberty—cold enongh
to be the figure of Just-Ice. It is capi
tal punishment for a member of Con
gress to go to Washington. When cjonA
gress Is In session a darkey is In session
too, who scoops up lemonade in a siriip
spoon at nothing a scoop, and the body;
politic, and the sovereign people too,
ran drink gll the sorir Juice and.waters'
they want for nothing.
STRIKING THINGS IN WASHINGTON.
.The most strlklngthlhgs about Wash
ington are the .policemen’s .clubs arid
the lemon , pepl lying around /loose op
the grass at' the Senate end of the Capi
tol. 'I appeal to the Senators to have
that peel removed. It Is toosuggestlve
,pf tot, whiskey skins arid other wicked
drinks to be allowed, to lie : there. Be
sides, what; wdpld, England 'and other
powers think If a lemon peel 1 tree
should grow there 7 It bright be con
structed Into ari .lrisult to the memory
of Sir Robert Peel, and war bo the re
sult—the battle ciyj “Go In, lemons.”
The Capital is’modelled after the
American .bald-headed , eagle-—some
time after. It has two wings, and since
Wlgfall left, It has had no hair on Its
bead. It has claws, and every once in
a while It puts Us clause into the Con
stitution, Men have flourished here
whose determinations were so dogged,
that When they died they were button
ed up in catafalques. Prom the way
members of Congress eat, they cannot
be called torpid livers.
THE RAID OF THE LOBSTER-BACKS.
, The cornerstone of the Capitol would
be an excellent place for a brindle cow
to scratch Us back. The angle is per-'
feet, It would rub all the brindle off.
It was laid Sept. 18, 1793. That was
before Susan B. Anthony’s fortieth
birthday. It was first used as the seat
of Uncle Sam in 1800. . Subsequently
one day the lobster-backs came up there
on a visit with Em Bargo, the cross of
St. George, and, the Cross of St. An
drew, and they wore so darned cross
they turned to and destroyed the build
ing, and Uncle Sam didn’t get another
square sit down there again until 181 G.
The British won’t get into Washington
again until mustard plasters are put, on
thermometers to make July warm in
Now York. This splendid building
commands Maryland, Delaware, and
Pennsylvania avenues. The Presi-.
dent’s house commands Pennsylvania,
Vermont, New York, and Connecticut
avenues, and the President commafads
the army.
Old Probabilities lives here in the
same house with Old Possibilities.
‘ I saw the Washington Monument to
day;! could hardly , make myself be
lieve it wasn’t the Brooklyn end of Uhe
East Biver bridge. ,
jin 1 1 new york i.: ; j
I saw. a - pian to-day who don’t llko
New York. He swears the only grounds
a man . has around his house in New
York 1 coffee grounds.,. He says he
was on there last spring, and after tea,
agentlemen ihvUPd'b'ifri toWalkfn'hls
garden, and he was ,much surprised to
find hisgairden up stilrt; and the gar
den gate 1 was a shutter.' They both
crawled through that scuttle, and they
walked ' for an hour around a clothes
line and three flour pots, and the New
York' gentleman appeared to enjoy it,
.but he didn’t. He don’t hanker , alter
gardens with tin floors; ;
Knight Templars parade in Wash
ington'ln the day time.
Four quarts of, cod liver oil will Jkifl
a tamo squirrel, .'...1
.' King bavid never played marbles on
Sunday.' He slewd the first liar with a
sling—Goliah. '
THEBTORY OF HOLLA’S WIFE.
I’ve got two temples that 1 had rath
er have than Solomon’s temple. They
are fastened to ray head. I once visit
n dramatic temple In Washington.—
They played a tune first; then came
“ Pizarro, or the death of Holla.” Pi
zarro waa rolled up in a piece of gilt
edged velvet, and - looked gorgeous;—
Holla’s wife’s name was Cora, Plz.,wos
after Hoi., and Cora knew It. Holla
didn’t cot ne homo to supper one night,
and Cora look her little Holla, who
measured a half yard and two fingers.
In her arms and started to see If Holla
had got his goose, cooked. r If so, she
was going to talk turkey to Plzarfa.—
During her wanderings she finds occa
sion “ A woman
with an infant lo her arms is nature’s
: passport through the world.” ; This fe
male appeared to bo olear-hoadod, and
apparently wouldn’t toll a lie a bit
quicker than George Washington’s
hatchet, and'we must believe Cora.—
Timo alters all things. Just ponder,
and think of the difference between
ancient Peru and modern New York.
Just lot Cora with her young onoln her
arms got on to n Dleeckor street car—,
CARLISLE;'PA?; THURSDAY; 2l’, 1872.
onSof the cats I lost my watch on—
and try that passport system onj the
conductor, and t&she don’t como'down
with live cents, she’d. come down into
the mud, sure pOp. • Young ones ain’t
taken for fares in New York—not on
the cars.
A WONDEKFDI TELEGRAPH ETNB. ''
Kernels of corn are very plenty in
succotash, but colonels in the army are
more plenty in Washington. 1
I saw a man to-day from the Indian 1
territory. ,He built a-telegraph l out,
there five miles lOng and two wide out)
of his wife’s hoopsklrt. .. ’’
Say I, “So you built it'out of‘ yont
wife’s. did you ?”> . - '
Says he, “ Yes, sir, I did.” ‘
Says I, “did you do much business
on.lt?” j
Says he, “There was more’hustle,
about that telegraph than ’ any other
line in my section. '
Says I, sneeringly,“ Bustle, hey I—’
Were there any hoops ?” ;
Says he, “ Hoops, hoops? yes, plenty
of hoops—-war whoops.”
That last remark busted, things', and
I took no more notice of him than
though he was my mother-ln law.
A TALK WITH A BAKER.
I visited a bake shop in Washington.
I saw thehoss baker. •He yvnego cov
ered with flour that if ho had sneezed
the gas would have had to be lit to see
him. The expression of his mug wasn’t
first-class. He looked like he couldn’t
ifell.Homer’s ’lliad from ifgrpoiJlCalico
cooking stove. ;. ;
Says I, " Are you crusty?’!.
Sayshe. “No I ain’t.” ,
;1 SaysT, " Keep a bake shop‘and not
crusty, hey ? You keep bread for sale,
dbri’tyou?” ' '
■ ■Sayshe, “Yes.” ■ ..»
Says I, “Do you knead your own
bread?”
Sayshe, "Yes, Ido,knead my.'own
bread.” -
Says 1,. “ Well, if you need your own
bread, what in thunder do'you,want to
sell it for?”
Says he, “ You are a fool.”
Then I looked at soine of his stock,
and says I. “ Did you. reside here.dur-'
ing 4he slight misunderstanding with
the South ?”
Says he, “I did.”
Says I, “Iwpnldn’t thinkyou did.”;
Sayshe, “Why?”
Then I took up one of bis rolls, and
says I, “My dear sir, excuse me, but I
would hardly believe it possible that a
man who had ever heard the long roll
sound would be guilty of selling such
short rolls as that.”
Sayshe, “ That will do, sir ; that is
quite enough. ”
Says 1, “Well I’ll take some nuts and
clear out.”
Says he, “I dont sell nuts.”
Says I, “You do riot—dough nuts ?” ,
He seemed inclined to hurt me, so l
beat a retreat.
A TALK WITH A SHOEMAKER,
There are some excellent shoe shops
in Washington, and my insatiate thirst
after knowledge led me into one of ’em
I have no doubt the proprietor was a
perfectly pious leather dealer. He had
a leather head anyhow.
Says I, "Got a nice store, hain’tye ’?”
Says he, “So, so,”
Says I, Sew sew. I thought in your
business it was stitch, stitch.”
Says he, “A-hem!”
Says I, “No, stitch.”
Then I propounded a conundrum,
Says X, “ Why are shoemakers like
ministers?”
Says he, “Blast your conundrums.’,’
Says I, “That ain’t the answer; its
because shoemakers and ministers both
peg away at soles, and they both heel
soles too.” • ' „ 1,,. .
Says he, “Well, do ypu want to buy
anything,,,, If so, I have everything In
my line you can name.”
Says I, ’’You have, hey ? Are gaiters
in your lino?” ■' "
Says he,, “Yes.”
Saysl, “ And you can show every
kind of gaiters?” . ! I,
Says he, “I can,” j
Says I, “Weil, sir, if that is the cape,
I’ll look at a pair of alligators.” !
He didn’t take it pleasantly, and itl,
hadn’t dispensed with his society Jus(j,
as X did, that leather dealer Would hate
tanned me. ' I
■ .„( i
Punk - will be cheaper, than licorice
stick next 4th of July, The duty Js iff
native punk.- > ■ |
Buckwheat cakes are getting rlpefapt;
They are mellow now. '
Corn starch pudding,alnt good for
shirt bosoms. ,
The garden of Eden never produced,
a sweeter lot of male and female Lbs
than are on a visit here, now. , Xt :1s
enough to give a pale face the whopp
ing cough to look at ’em. I shan’t sp
lect a bride from that crowd,, John.'
PEOBABLE BOOTLE MOTDES. > <
X Woman Kicked Pearly to Death hy a Ruffian--
The Villain Stabbed with a Butcher Knife.
Jobu Badiey, a notorious ruffian, who
has for years been a terror to the well
disposed inhabitants of the Seventh
ward, New York city, while 10 a state of
gross intoxication, went Into the grocery
store of John MoTiarnay, 221 Cherry
street, about eleven o’clock on Thursday
night, Nov- 3rd, and became engaged In
an altercation with Mrs. UoTierney,
kicked her In the stomach, causing her
to give premature birth to a child, and
was in turn stabbed in the breast with a
large butcher knife in the hands
of John UoTierney, the Injured woman's
son. , 1 ■ ■ '.
Radley staggered Into the store and
demanded of Mrs. MoTlemey, who was
behind the counter, some goods.. These
she refused to give him, knowing be bad
no money with wbloh to pay for them.
Radley became greatly exalted at being
refused the desired articles, and after
heaping Innumerable Imprecations upon
the woman ran beblnd'.the counter, and
dealt her several murderous blows with
his list, and finally kicked her ae above
stated. The poor woman, who bed been
pregnant four or five mouths, broke
away from the ruffian and rushed,
screaming with pain and terror. In
, ‘ INTERESTING ITEMS.
too book room, where eat her son read
log an evening paper.
Badley followed her, and woe met by
the eon, who seized a knife and plunged
it Into the villain’s breast. Badley ran
into the street, wbere.be was found blee
ding profusely, by the police. Eeturn
ing to tils mother John found her suffer
ing great pain., He Immediately went
In quest of a physician. On returning be
found two officers,-ami to them he gave
himself,up. Soon after this bis mother
gave birth to a child, and'her condition
Is now so critical .that the physicians de
spair of savingher life. '
Radley was removed to Bellevue Hos
pital, where hie injury was pronounced
to, be of a very eerlqus nature. The 1 son
was committed to await the result of
Bradley,’s injuries.. He is a mere lad of
eighteen, appears exceedingly brlghtaud
Intelligent, knd -has nboul hlm n6ne of
the rowdy or"lpjafeb.. Sis, eyes told plain
ly that be had been . weeping, and bis
countenance, as well as his whole de
meanor, indicated great mental suffering.
" MoTlerney,” said the reporter, “ this
Is a sad case of yours.”
’’l know It Is, sir; It Is sad because of
my mother, but as for the part I took In
it I don’t see how I could well help my
self. Do you know how my mother Is 7
Will she die?” As he asked the ques
tion his eyes filled with team and his
.voice choked.' The reporter, expressed
a hope that the poor woman would
survive the. injuries, she had received,
and, by Way of diverting the ydiith’s .
mind,.,from,, her, suflerlpg,,asked him
if be. Intended to kill Badley when
he stabbed. 1
"No, I did not intend to kill him, al-:
though I was, as you may Imagine,. ,
.greatly enraged,” said MoTlerney. <‘ He
Is a desperate character, and I know it,
and if I had killed him I don’t think !
could be seriously blamed for it.: Of I ,
course I will be kept here some time. I
AEOTHEE-WESTERN WONDER
A Eossil Falm Tree in Ooioiaflo-rHow Old
is the World 7
[From the Denver City News,]
Twenty-one miles south of Denver lie
the remains of a palm tree preserved Iri
stone. It la on the hillside, looking down
npon Cherry Creek, and a hundred feet
or mure above the level of the valley of
that stream. The soil is similar to that
of most of the upland plains in Colorado,
and covered at present with a thick crop
of grass and weeds. Bunohes of currant;
bushes, laden with fruit, cluster about
the wooden rocks, and above, to the top
of the ridge and along its crest, are scrub
by young pines and a few large trees. At
the foot of the bill, three hundred yards
to the westward, passes the old stage
road from Denver to Santa Fe. The
traveller, looking up, could see a ledge or
mass of rough-looking rocks, rising ten
or twelve feet above the surface of tbe
ground and about forty feet In length.
Camp fires have been builtagainst it and
campers have doubtless sought shelter
from winter’s storm or summer’s sun
under its projecting front, little dreaming
that they reclined in the'sbadow of a
palm tree. The pupils of a school-house
near by have ployed, about It mariy a
day. Last winter a hunter for curious
specimens stninbled Upon It arid guessed
‘ Its true character. Specimens ’ were'
brought to Denver and pronounced by
the beat authorities petrlfied-palm wood.
But tbe mass was reported. so large that
the story seemed incredible.
A oarefpl examination reveals the fob
towing facts: "Tbe monster tree evl
dontly grow wbere It lies, and there has
been very little change In tbe surface of
the ground at that point since Its fall.
Tts fall was towards the north and across
a narrow tongue or spur of the hill, near
tbe crest, on tbe south side of which It
stood.' The unevenness of the ground
caused tbe part of tbe trunk now visible
to (peak iu two pieces. Theflret, pr butt
section, la thirty-nine feet long, and it
bos apparently rolled about half.over,
down tbe hill. In the heart was either a
hollow or a mats of decayed wood, from
four to six feet In diameter Tbe upper,
side of the log has been btokemup by l the
action of the elements and frost, destroy-
ing between one-third apd one-half of
It? olroumferenoe, and,the ‘ fragment? He
scattered ln huge blocks. The
more than half,'ttat remains Intact )s a,
huge trough ; the surface of the earth Is,
even with ltd brim on the up-hill side
and ten feet belowiilt. on the down-hill
side. As before! stated,, this section la
thirty-nine feet long. As near as pan be
dttertnlbed wlthoUt' exoavatlng tbe ad
jacent earth,'the dlameter of the tree at
ItaTjase l l« twenty-two I feet. 'Midway of
Its length, or twenty ftet frdm the base,
it.ia flfteen foet
"Tbe second section la twenty-one feet
long, and evidently lies where It fe|K
Striking square across' the. crest of the
ridge, the Immense weight almost buried
' It in the earth. Its outlines are bard to
determine without digging, but at mid
length, or fifty feet from, the, stump, It ia
certainly nine feet in diameter., The two
:sectlona, as, described, measure Just sixty
feet in length. Above that point the
body of the tree fell into a,gulch, which
has been, since nearly filled up by the
wash from the hills above. Digging
would doubtless reveal much more of tbe
trunk.
“ And all this Immense mass of wood
has turned to stone, bard and flinty as
porphyry. Some of: it looks like agate,
finely veined and delicately tinted.
Other with opaline lustre; sopae as white
os the driven snow, or with the polished
lustre of chalcedony, Portions of the
trunk/must have . baen rotten, for Its
stony remains are honey-combed, and
the cattles filled with delicate, crystals'
that sparkle In tbe sunlight like real
diamonds. Breaking Into tne knots with
heavy blows of the eledge hammer re
veals mlnlatnre caves and grottoes glit
tering with stalactites and stalagmites of
real crystal. Specimens of the bark can
be oblpped off, losing as natural, doubt
less, as When its own green -leaves waved,
la the breeze end Darwin’slnchoate man'
gambolled among their giant stems.
“It la useless to speculate upon tbe
time when this giant of the forest flour
ished ; of the hundreds of thousands of
years during which a torrid sun hissed,
Us eblnlng leaves;. of Its fall and Immer-,
slon lU .theslllolous bath that changed Its
every fibre to flint. It Is history In
stone, telling of changes of tbe condition
and climate of this part of the world that
may well make one shiver if he expects
to. stop here fifty or a hundred* thou •
■and years longer. Meanwhile It 1 can'
supply material for the walls of a court
bouse, window-sills and paps for all
Denver, or centre tabletops for the West
ern Stales. It is the very biggest thing
—ln stone—and among trees It takes the
palm.”
A .man recently knocked an
elephant. He was an auctioneer.
"How Is your honor, Pat?” ".Un
impeachable, sir*” was the reply. < ■ '■
Why Is a calm man like a school
teacher 7 Because he keeps'Pool. ,
i An artist is not as, strong as a hotsp,
but he can draw a stronger object. 1
A man may not like the fashion of his
nose, although he follows it.
I-rdon’t require much talent to give
godd advlce, but to follow it does.
, OttE of those things no fellow oon And
out—a good husband after llo'clooh P. M.
A person advertises In a London pa
per for " second hand artificial teeth.” ,
‘‘l hold It to be a fact,” says'Pascal,
that If all persons knew what they said
of each other, there Would hot be any
friends In the world:”'‘ ~ 1 '
. Wby is the strap of an omnibuslike a
man’s conscience?: Because.lt Is an In-,
ward cheek on the outward man.
. There ore two wjj« pf igolng, through
thlß;World. . One la to makotbehekt of
it, aqdjtbe.otber ls to make tbe worst,of;
it. Thpae ,who, tabp.f be., latter., ootids,
work for. poor, pay
i Cald a lady a !‘ obloken,'' ana ten to
one she ■ will! bo- angry'with ■you.! Tell
her she' ls “ no chicken,” and twenty.to
one she will bo moro'aogrystlll/ ■ '
"“ A man asked qboy who digging
In a hillside what’he was digging for. “ A
woodchuck I ,’“said 1 the bby.“Yon can’t 1
get bltn,” said the man, 1 '! must get
him;” eald the boy, “orir'folks ate out of
meat.” ■ ‘ ' ii:
"A lady made a complaint to Preder
lok the Great, King of Prussia. “ Your
Majesty,” said she, my husband treats'
me badly.”' “That’s none of my busi
ness.” replied the Klng. :, *l3ut : bespeaks'
111 of you,” said tiie'lady. “That re
plied he “ isbbrie of your business.”
A. Parisian landlady requested a
.Christmas party on the .£hlnbifloor .to
cease dancing, as a'man below was dying,
The guests .acquiesced.,Beturplng an
hour later, “ my dear children,” she ex
claimed with the most benevolent smile,
•' You may begin again—he’s dead.”
A beggar posted himself at the door
of the Chancery Court, and kept saying,
“ A penny, please sir I Only one penny,
sir, before you go In 1 “And why, my
man ?” Inquired an old country gentle
man. “Because, sir, the chances are
that you will not have one when you
come out 1”
A coOkney conducted two ladiea to an
observatory to see an eclipse of the moon.
They Were too late—the eclipse was over,
and the ladles were “Op I”
exclaimed our hero, 11 don’t'ftet; 1 knoW
the astronomer well ; he : la a very polite
man, and I’m sure Wlll'begin again. . ,
CampHor kept In a linen bag, and
placed In drawers, will effectually keep
away moths from clothes, &o.
The application of raw linseed oil, ap
plied night and morning, is said to be an
effectual cure and preventive of chapped
hands.
To 1 renew ribbons, wash them In cool
suds, made of soap, and Iron when damp.
Cover with a clean cloth, and Iron over
Tp keep knives from rusting, scour
them ott a‘board, crosswise, with’ some
idry brlok, and afteh having wiped them
perfectly dry, put them nwajr. ' : 1 ,
iNSEOTS'In Tinea may. me destroyed by
mixing two, pounda.eaob ;of flourofaul-v
phur, powdered tobacco,, BDftiooap.ln six
gallons of water boiled for half an Jbbfar,
Apply lukewarm
1 A aooo washing Ilqdo'i l forboarse'arti
cles; floors,' &0., may be made by mlilbg
slacked lime, half a pound; 1 sods, one
pound • water, six 'quarts'. 801 l It two;
: hbtirs, let it Settle, and strain. ■ : 1 '! j .
To tabestalns from sllit. together
In a phial tyro ounces of essence of leih-’
on' ejnd one ounce, of 6j| of, ‘ ttirpentibo-
Grease and other spots' In silk areto be
rubbed gently with a linen rag dipped in
this mixture.
=I
t A good paste for clean ing .brass may
bo mado by rotten atone, two ounces;:,
oxalle acid, half yn, opnoe j pw,eet oil,
three quarters of an ounce ; turpentine,
enough to make a paste. Apply it with
a little water. ,
> To make cloth, linen, and canvas wa
ter proof, brush the .doth wlthasolu-
lsinglass. and when dry* with a
solution oTfiutgalla, The last'solution
changes'the gelatine mass of. Isinglass
into a looter like substance.
To remove stains from mouenlng
dresses, boll a handful of fig leaves In
two quarts of water, until reduced to a
pint. Bombazines, crapes, cloth, Ac.,
need only bo rubbed with a sponge
dipped in this liquor.
To prevent snails and, worms crawl
ing np trees, form a pasta with train
oil and soot, and lay it on in a circle
around the tree, a few, inches above the
ground, and, it will form a barrier ovir
which snails or wprms will not pass.
, The presence of cotton in flannel may
bo detected by boiling a fragment sam
ple or it In a solution of potash, ; The'
flannel will 1 ho cohverted into soajl,
Whoreaa the cotton will be but little al
tered, and they bo collected and'
weighed. ■
A good waterproofing for the soles
of boots and shoes may be made with a'
little bees wax and mutton suet, wann
ed In a pipkin until in a liquid 1 state;
then rub some of it lightly over the
edges of, the soles where the stitches
are, which will repel the wet, end not
the least prevent the blacking from
haying the usual effect.
: 70t 59:,-NQ. 24.
HTJMOEOUS.
.i.r ; - |V
Domestic Bepipes,
1 ~,i
r, R#S ;Of A^^gtlsing.
|1 | 3 eg. I<sp.' Xc .jl col.
1 w lice 52 00 ,*3.00, 84 00 |7 00 512 00 122 ot
§“ is iss as
4" 260 f 75 675 8 767 13 60 18,00 S 3 60
5“ 800 660 -060 760 ISOO- -SOOO 85 00
3m M«Wf s aS SIS
8 M 600 860 -8 60 10 60 00 00 Off 60 00
w as swig smohss iooSo
Twelve lines Mfiltltuie a square.
miM a
,pe»line. ( ii’rtl
j ;
' i *1
:■
THE VALUE OF BNOV TO THE S'6lL.
The following: beautiful reparks
upon the value, of. snow will doubtless
be read with Interest' by the -reader.—
It is from the pen. of j the edltor Pf the
New EnglandMtmtert r i o yn, j
When the snow comes parly :and ro
mains throughthe-winterj tbhl'roots of
the graia and grass.rfimaiAlgreeh and
succulent and ready for. an.early start
la the spring.: ,di fu;- u
• The' snow also - phjfecta thb 'fcbrfaco
from the sweeplfag Winds, WMch'ilry It
and remove the i soil frtim the robts of
the winter gfalnV dWKdn the 1 fetidly lies
Ida deep body'.;dii'the ! grou'ndi ,r lf we
have occasion to "dlg’lnto theearth, we
find there Is little or no frost. 'People
■say the snow, has'taken ■ theMMMi but of
the ground. This Is tibt 'exactly true.
The snow has protected 1 the 7 ground .
from i the cold nitvrihd 'the hehliadfa
ting from ; the 'earth has rtieitedl what
frost there waa uddfer thb%fi6W. ;:; ”
■ Thewhitecoloir of proVouta the
absorption of the’snn'B ! ray? anc( their
transmission‘to the 1 CTbhnn sVth'at the
a! teteAtetßaWl add fteezingdpes not
take ‘plate ‘itf'A"shdW-to'y&rw surface
whlchdbte ! itr dbe'dn >! wSlct. tire snow
dOMnotHe.;''-' 1 ;
Tfc IS 6lten 4: sald' ttiaS’ffiQ enipwj is the
poor Irian’s 1 niahurA liiit'l’t'ja the rich
as well', for I lt / 6rm^ n (lown ele
-1 merits of foVtllify front flje atmosphere,
'hud 1 retainer’ Iheiiji and ,'wB 1 6n*w melts
tbnveys tliem fnto tnfi l e6ll, K ' r " ’\ l/ .
! whs (.inaaorq ay”' l
v wa '
ter By.the.genM
mM&masitoay
that. It thp,oseeds
br ' the,, ...pfi- the
plants; hnt and
Of,'pulrjtlon, around the'np, Hfllfiti, they
are‘tfans ,: enabled .to absorb’ Into their
circulating
tehdorsbdofeßna nude. • 1 '
a tgqpd! Pxpyldppce aupblies us
with, the ipeanaofllfa.anrj comfort. It
sends thp snow.tp retain ,thO:warmth of
flie,earth,, pnfl,.prpteqt; a]li,vegetable
1%, . Without. Jf, jpi.tha .hJgbetijlati
tudes, tho ( eartbos>uld!not tbA inhabited
by jcp,an. Xhp,gr9und iW.puldidraaze to
such a depth, tbatjtk.WQUidiiiMrt be
thawed, tjll, .midsummer, oWe icould
raise no winter, grain, and'. I the abort
seasons would limit our,cultivations to
a few of the.hardler plants,mu,i ii
The snow, then, Is not only If'a beau
ty and a joy,” but It is a Safeguard and
protection to all vegetable life. Ttadds
largely to the fertility and productive
ness of the soil,, and enables; it to pro
duce a much greater variety and abun
dance of crops fbr.tha,Supply ofipnan,
and the cherished-animals which ' con
tribute so largely to hla fiecessittes and
comforts, do. '
■ ) ■■ r, c:.-. .'l-f.'i ■
~. flhemistiyi ol & flan's ■Sg’git < *
MM=ll=3
■ Within thS, shell'i{)o
viscous, colorless Il4tild‘>«dHedl'albu
men, or—the -whilef&nd a . yellow, *
globular mass, called-the ivltollus or
yolk. The whlte:of the egg< consftts of
two, parts, each of. which Is'enveloped ■
in distinct membranes. : Tbe outer bag
of albumen, is quite ia ■ thlnj ' watery
body, while then ext.which invests the
yolk,-is.heavy and|hickJ Ihm
i But few housekeepers WhdbrOab’cgga
ever distinguish between' tHo ttidtohiies, '■
or know of their existence even. Each
boaitsappropriate o(Qco ; to B fuIfll dur
ing the progress of incubatignior hush
ing, and .onß.actq,. Jntbe,;iayß furious
, process,,as, important ft part) na the oth
er. If weromoyo this glairy fluid ftom
the,,^hell,,and,. plape«.ln., a ;; glass, 1 and
nlupge'lntui ,it,,a ftrlp.pf ; reddened' lit-.
ra “3jP WP, r * ft blue :tlpge ,ia 4 w mediately
wbich. indicate:} the ppesenco
of an alkali. The alka.ll Is soda In a
free condition, and Its presence is.of the
hlgheat'cohsOdjitii/cei'feV .ivlthoiV It the
llquldwould^M6tfe ;, 'V‘ ,l ‘''“ l!i
A portion,of,.the.jWhlte^o^.^Q,,egg
When diluted fts/ow ,
vinegar oftacelißflcid addqdto
liquid befjotnes clpudy^apd,incident,
.and sinajj jpita to
thebotlonu of,
albumen, made "so byramovlng the
soda held In combination by the use ot
the add: ' A pintihof soda'iddiM the
solid precipitate rOdissblvbalt.'atia'U la
again liquid-:-'' *' .*"« "J gniitnl*
’’lThebe' is 1 another wiy‘ by' ir^Uti 1 . ithe
aibmuen is rendered bollcOnd' that is
placed In‘belli tig watbr pass, |roajthe
soluble to insoluble state quite rapidly,
or In other words tiro albumen both of
the white' and thbyblkthebombar “ co
agulated.”' 'll “ 'll.* l “ I'Jd'il
No cobtraat'.can bb griateVtbab‘tbat
between a; bbllbd and egg.—
Not only Is it changed'
there la a change in chemfcal 1 proper'
ties, and yet no chomlst cab tell In
what the change consists’.' It is tbuo
that water extracts a little 'alkalibut
the abstraction of these bod|es'lsnard
ly sufficient to account for thq change
In question. Dr. Nichols’ "Fireside
Science.
tAI II
ton clainpa ,thp jibndr qf groWingthe
Im^st' npjpfe‘.' 'tree'
of
Jm}go ; Wplc3, on' the ,'old
farm, a Pennock apple' tree qne hun
dred ycars old, and mDasurlbg In ‘cir
cumference at the ground* 10 feet. 8 feet
fropi'lhe ground It me&tfrebfelght feet)
two feet higher np the size la -9
clrcumforetice.' pne iitnb , ; H ’B’* fefeit s
Inchcb ntound it, and two Other I * ! aTe 4
feet. The tree u laden 1 wl th ’ flrnl t.—
This Is an nctukl ; titei l! tbt arilthagl
naryono. .i
A peiwon advertises Id a London
paper ■ for "second-band artificial
tooth.’* • •> i'i*