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U. O. SMITH * CO
A. J. Steihman
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ACROSS THE ItlVEft.
When for me the (■llentoar
Parts the Silent Hlver,
Anil 1 stand upon the shore
Ofthesirango Forever,
Shall 1 miss the loved and known?
Shall I vainly seek mine own ?
Mid the crowd that come to meet
Spirit slu.forglven—
Listening to their echoing feel
Down the streets of heaven—
Shall 1 know a footstep near
That I listen, wall for, here?
Then will ' ne approach the brluk
With a hand extend, d.
One whose thoughts I loved to thlnK
Kro the veil was rendtd,
Saying ‘ Welcome ! wo have died,
And bgiln aie side by side.”
Haying, “I will go with Hies,
Thai thou b* not lonely,
To yon hills of mystery;
I nave wuiled ouiy
Until now, to Climb with tbo
Yonder i.i.ls of mystery.’'
<j,tn the bonds that make us beur
Know uiiiselvcK immorlul,
Drop away, like lolluge sear,
At llle’s inner portal?
What Is holiest below
Must forever live mid glow.
I aliall love the angels Wf Jl,
% Aller 1 have luuirl iliem
I n i he mail si ons u here th< v dw
With ihe glory round them.
Hill at Mrs', witnout surprise.
Let me look on human byes.
Slop by .step our feet inu«l go
Dp liie nolv inouu'aiti;
I.M-op hy drop within ns llow]
Liie’s tin a lu g louniaiu.
\u'o*l's slug with crowns Hi at bur
We'f.hall have a t-oiis to learn.;
110 Who o;: our . r.rMilJ puli;
Kids U> help encli other—
Who lii'i Wei 1-Heloved hath
Made our Kld* r liiolhei
Will bit • ciasp lue chain o! love
Closi r when we meet above.
Therei'nre dread I not to go
O’er ilie Mienl Klver.
iii-alii, my hasten lug our l k:im»;.
Hear me, thou Llle-giv. 1-.
Tnrough the waters, to t he shore,
Where mine own ha\ e gone before !
ANavaxe Beauty
11 win on onu of tilt* great Ktutern
rivers that 1 made Lire experience you
ure about to heur. There are reusous,
which I must not disregard, for pro-
Hurving thin vagueness us to thelocality.
liutff would assure tlie reader, with all
seriousness, Hint my story is true, aud
ila moral wound. As a rule, one expects
anonymous adventures—without dale
or address—tu be alike amusing, scan
dalous, and false, —but the two latter
qualities, my tale decidedly lias not.
Strictness of fact is its justification, for
the moral corttained therein can neces
sarily be useful only to a few.
Picture to yourself a solitary canoe
lying moored in the mid-waters of a
great tropic river. There are now
houses-and towns on the banks which,
at tlie lime 1 knew them, were but
verdant swamps, broken hero or there
by u Liny patch of rice-ground, a cluster
of liltlo huts, or the tall dwelling of a
chief. (Hi the evenirigof which I speak,
ten yeais ago, notan Kuropeun could
have becu found withiu a hundred
miles of my canoe. The night fell sud
denly down, dark and windy; the tide
was at its highest, and only the extreme
tips of the “ nipas ’’—that ugly sister in
the graceful family of palms—rose above
the Hood. My eatioe was anchored
above their fern-like crowns, and over
it and under the slid', awkward branches
thrust themselves. The breeze moaned
aud wliislied among them, rattling their
harsh leaves together. There were as
yet neither stars nor moon; the clouds
seemed to hang almost on the dark sur
face of the water, which stretched, rip
pled and soughing, oti oiLlier-mlc, (ill
its eddies were lost in an sir, ss of vapor.
P’ar olf, above the i n >. i.«iMe bank, a red
light glowed thr.iudi the mist, anil
the boatmen declared that it burned
in the house of a great war chief a mile
away. There was nothing to sec through
the dull evening vapors, except that
distant lire; imr to hear, except the
rustling of up- wind, the bending of tlie
“nipa” boughs, ami the eager but mo
nolnuoussueking of the tide.
My hnatimMi lighted their tire foi»
ward. Soon it bewail to blu/.e, undeH
the fostering of a dozen hands already
numbed with cold. The red sparks
leapt from swirl to swirl of the river
timidly, l > rig k trued, look courage,
flamed up, and irradiated a wide ex
panse of troubled water. My native
boatmen clustered round their stone
hearth as closely as the narrow sides of
my canoe would sillier them. A brave
and honest set they were a* ever trav
eller loved, hut most exceedingly ugly.
As they crouched before the tire for
ward, their pictureMpie costumes aud
misshapen features outlined against the
blaze and ruddy smoke, 1 pleased
myself, lying mi my mattress, with
recalling tin* old (ferman stories of
gnomes and gobhns, to which strange
creatures my poor boatmen were curi
ously like, But I don't know that in
all my wanderings I ever felt so utterly
alone, so small a speck on the great
breast of nature, as that night. I
watched the wreathing swathes of mist
stalking over the water to my very side.
1 listened to the gurgling of the tide,
ami its steady “lap” ugainst the guu
' wale, and I thought of limes and faces
id pleasant Europe with a sort of de
spair.
Suddenly, my meditation was broken
by a pealing “Ho —o,” from the mid
darkuess. My boatswain auswered the
irtiseeu challenger, and held a short
conversation with him in the dialect of
the interior; then, addressing me, thus
announced visitors: “The brave chief
from the next reach, my lord, desires
to present his slavish worship.” “Tell
the bravo chief of the next reach,” I
answered, that his slave, and all his
slave’s ancestors in their collius, rejoice
at this happy meeting. Ami pass a
■* candle aft, if, there happens to be one
left in the locker!” There was one left
lu the locker, which 1 stuck into a bot
tle and lixed to the gunwale. I u another
moment the sharp nose of a canoe shot
out of the misty curtain into our red
lialf-circle. I was used to these visits
from savage chiefs, and felt little inter
est ill the strangers. Their courtesy en
tailed a certain diminution of my pre
cious stores, specially of spirits ami
tobacco, and an uncertain sacrifice of
other valuables. Not that these naked
friends of mine stole! .But they had a
horribly frank habit of asking point
blank for aught that took their laucy,
aud it was notan easy, or perhaps quite
a safe think, to disappoint them. There
fore,' though prepared to give current
value for the presents which this worthy
chief was sure, under any circum
stances, to send next day, I could easily
have dispensed with his courteous visit
over night.
There were three persons, I saw, in
the approaching canoe. Two paddled,
and thej third sat aft. I did not look
particularly. My boatmen had hastily
raised over me the thatch, called “ Ka
joug,” which protects a traveller from
the sun ; this ceremony was no doubt
proper under the circumstances, but it
had the effect of limiting my view. The
canoe grated alongside my larger craft,
but the deep shadow cast by the “lea
jongs,” hit! from me the appearance of
its occupants. I raised myself in the
crossed-lcgged position which the East
ern voyager so soou acquires, aud pre
pared a neat oration. In another mo
ment a tall, muscular old mau emerged
from thj darkness, rested his hand
lightly on the guuwale of my boat, aud
stepped iu, with no more commotion
than is caused by walking aboard a
•three decker. “The brave chief of the
next reach,” observed my boatswain
ceremoniously, and I greeted the
old man with a smile aud asbakeofthe
hand. He sat down at the farther side
of the boat, silently, but in great and
visible conteutment. I prepared to as
sail him with certain statistical ques
tions, such as, I assure you, these sav
ages are neither perplexed to 'hear, nor
unable to auswer. “How many fight
ing men follow you?” I was about to
ask, when auother hand was placed
upon the gunwale, another figure came
up suddenly from the dark river, aud
stepped with ease upon my rickety
craft. “The wife of the brave chief
who lives on the next reach,” an
nounced tlie boatswain, who sat
crouched beneath the kajongs. I
smiled aud shook hands. The wife took
a place beside her husband with a
familiar confidence pleasant to see.
“How many fighting—” I was
interrupted again! My left hand
rested on the gunwale, instinct
ively placed there when the “ brave
chiefs wife” bdarded me, to counteract
any ugly lurch which her unskilfulness
might cause. On this hand was sud
denly placed another, belonging evi
dently to a person outside my boat. So
—rszr***'’-
®l)e 1 micasta' iintdlujcnau:
VOLUME TO
small and slender were those fingers
that thus clasped mine, so soft" and
dainty and deiicate —all the blood in
my body tingled ; for I thought, surely
’tis the hand of a mermaid!—a Lorely !
But no! A third visitor rose from the
darkness —rose, resting its hand still on
mine—rose and stood upright before
me framed in the velvety blackness of
the night. It was the figure of a young
girl sixteen years of age at most, which
thus stood up suddenly before me,
sparkling, shining, in the candle-light.
She was simply clad in a short petti
coat of woollen stuff, which did not
quite reach the knee. Her arms and
wrists were encircled with many brace
lets of gold and shell, and ornaments of
brass; it was acrimeso to overload them,
for their shape was worthy of Hebe.
Round and round her waist a chain
of small gold rattles was twisted, which
tinkled faintly with each motion. Her
graceful head had no covering, except
such coils of fine black hair as three
English women might with joy have
shared among themselves. The hair
was not parted, but drawn back from
the forehead, and in a smooth knot,
with a quantity of strongly-scented
flowers; the ends fell in a shower be
hind, almost to her waist. This fashion,
which civilized ladies are just adopting,
is the common coiffure of the laud I
speak of. The girl’s features were per
fect, from low, round forehead to
dimpled chin! And wholly European
in character, save that no eyes of our
zone could laugh with such velvet soft
ness, nor plead with humility so irre
sistible. For this young savage’s face
shone down upon me with dewy lips
parted in a timid smile, and innocent,
saucy eyes, that said, plainly as words,
“Am I not pretty? You are a great
lord, ami-almost more than man, but
you cannot refuse me a place in your
canoe!” And all the while she kept
her little soft hand in mine, while I
started dimly upwards, marvelling at
her loveliness. “The daughter of the
brave chief who lives ou the next reach !”
gravely announced my boatswaiu from
under tho kajongs.'
“ The daughter of the brave chief who
lives on the next reach is welcome to
her slave’s resting place !” I said, with
an affectation of mighty indifference.
But the attempt failed, I suspect, for my
boatman forward, who had, like all
their race, a truo Italian interest
in the minutest a Quire do arur,
laughed gently as they sat beside their
fire, and stole a glauce aft. But the little
beauty was too profoundly conscious of
her own value, personal and political,
to care one straw for the impertinence
of mere boatmen. She murmured a
few words, in a voice sweet as tho lips
from which it issued, and received a
merry answer from her father. Then
she looked down at me with a joyous
smile, add, putting her foot on thegun
vrale—Ah ! but I cannot leave that foot
undescribed. Would I were-a poet,
gifted with Theopiiiie Gautier’s skill to
celebrate the divinity of form! His
fervor I feel in recalling the vision of
that fairy foot, but not a tone of that
wondrous voice have I. What was It
tiiat enraptured me?—a foot!—a mem
ber common to ail animals, and sullici
ently despised.
I will give tiie measurement of it, as
taken afterwards. The girl was of ordi
nary height, four feet ten or so ; her foot
lay easily in my hand, —that is, "was
something under seven inches long.
When I closed my grasp on that dain
tiest of prizes, my second linger and
thumb could meet within an inch round
the instep, or, by an exercise of some
little strength, could bo made to touch.
Bui what is measurement of Hues and
inches in a work of supremest art?
Color and shape and exquisite life give
the charm. The prettiest of English,
feet, white as milk, and veined with*
sapphire, is to the little dusky limb of
an Eastern girl as an elaborate marble
ofCanova’s to the small bronze gem I
hold within my baud'. That child’s foot
revealed to the acute beholder great facts
iu ethics, on which big books have been
written, and big arguments expended,
lie saw there expressed the suppleness |
of her race, the grace and delicacy that 1
shuns exertion, theactivity which, with
hare-like speed, distances our tortoise
pace ; and tie saw, besides, the hurried,
nervous circulation, and the fragility ol
structure. But, indeed, that little foot,
resting still on my gunwale, was a
bronze of the beat period 1 mined to life.
The skin was smooth aud polished as
metal, and the tone, save where its
natural color was subdued by a tinge of
henna or turmeric, matched that of
Corinthian brass. The ankle was wor
thy of the foot. Such graceful lines,
“ attaches ” so prettily rounded, I never
hope to see again iu living llesh ; instep
arched as an Arab's, lean ami smooth
like his ; toes, not crushed together, nor
curled up, nor pressed out ol all round
ness by the habits of boots; neither
spread abroad like a negro’s, but each
standing slightly apart, lithe, tremu
lous, dimpled as an iufaut’s at each
joint. The nails were carefully polished,
ami regular as those of a baud ; a stain
of henna gave to them the very tones of
agate. Ah, such au exquisite foot!
She stepped on hoard, laughing mer
ily, and sat behind her father. The
Id folks talked of their barbarous
politics,—how the neighboring tribes
were threateningTo renouuce their al
legiance to a chief now aged. Insidious
propositions were made me to abide
awhile, for no visible object, at their
village ; but not even the charms of that
lovely girl who sat, all silent and sub
missive, by the gunwale, could tempt
me to permit my name anti color to be
used as a political influence among these
astute, yet simple savages. Whether
the daughter had been brought aboard
with hopes of swayiug me, I do not
know, but I am inclined to think not.
She was the only child at home, and
the pet of ihis venerable chief. Besides,
I doubt much whether even her
parents kuew or guessed wliat a treas
ure of beauty they possessed in
her. The loveliness was not quite
of the stylo most admired by these
good folks. The points I have described
to you are common to many, to almost
all, of their women, except the features.
Doubtless, hud I asked the critical opin
ion af any dusky Don Juau roundabout
touching the merits of this girl, he would
have answered, with that superb air we
see daily at the “circle,” —“Not bad.
Her mouth is too small, aud never stain
ed rod with betel. Her teeth are white,
which is a terrible blot, and reflects the
gravest discredit on her parents. Her
hair is long, aud her feet are small, but
Tragi’a daughter has longer tresses and
tinier hands, while her teeth are black
as burftfc cocoa nut can make them, and
no man ever yet saw her without a
crimson stain like blood upon her chin;
mais pour ce qul s’appelle une dot, mon
cher!”
She did not speak ten words all night,
but sat uudor the shadows of the ka
jongs aud slyly watched me, smiling
from time to tHne?rwith ..such girlish
grace as made ifiy very heart stir. Now
and then she laughed at some unintel
ligible witticism of her brave old father;
a sweet, happy laugh that did one’s ears
good to hear. In fact, I fell in love
that night, and I know that if we had
not met again, I should have returned
to civilized life a victim henceforth to
Byrouic melancholy; feeling a despe
rate conviction that the only being I
could ever love dwelt spine fifteen thou
sand miles oIT as the crow Hies, in a
palm-thatched house beside an un
known river.
But I met her agaiu. My business
on this river of her father’s took me
almost to its head waters,’and in a
month's time I began to drop down
stream again. Will you bear with me,
reader,.while I vent my soul in telling
the delights of a canoe-voyage through
the watery highways of a tropical forest?
Heaven grant that before many mon tbs
I may again be. floating on their deep
bosom ! Ah, why can I not paint these
scenes as vividly as they press upon my
memory? I cannot, for often have I
tried, aud never with success. I would,
tell of the start at early.dawn, while yet
the night-mistsarecurliDg on the water,
—while yet the monkeys call musically
to each other in the forest-trees. I would
describe the eager bustle of my boat
men getting ready for the day’s labor.
I would tell how, with a wild cheer,
they dip their paddles in the chilly
stream, and make the tiny craft to fly
from its halting place of over night.
Ay, I would have my companion sit
by me in fancy, underneath the matted
awning which obstructs the glare of
early day, rifle on his knees, and glass
ready to his hand. For they have keen
eyes these boatmen of mine, and long
ere yourdull sight discovers thecreature
they point out with such mute eager
ness, it will have flitted through the
trees and disappeared, leaving naught
but a doubtful trail. Game is thick in
these woods Cfrhim who has quick eyes
and a steady hand, but not one hoof or
paw willhesee who takes to the brilliant
East the listless motions of Pall Mall.
Hist! What does he whisper with such
still excitement, that brown “ serang ”
squatted on the bows? Steady behind!
The eager paddlers cease their clanking
stroke, hush the broad jest and extem
porized song. They dip their paddles
with bucli skill, that velvet sinking into
oil would make a splash as loud. With
out a sound we glided above the water,
steadily, as. with a wish, onwards.
The “serang’s” outstretched band
guides our eyes to a black shad
owed reach, where the water sleeps
and rots,overdrowned with fleshyjleaves
and pallid, unwholesome flowers, tak
ing no color from the sun. .What is
there? Too well we know our trusty
boatswain to fear false alarms from him.
We strain our eyes; and at length, be
neath the deepest shade, just- where
that dark-leaved shrub drops its pendu
lous boughs into the stream beside the
fallen trunk, all clothed in ferns and
orchids and many-colored fungi, that
lies rotting in theeddy, we think to
trace a shadowy outline as of some mon
ster crouched along the ground. Gent
ly, silently, we drop down. The quick
sighted monkeys have fled thi3 spot,
and far in the distance we can hear
their clashing progress through the
tree-tops. The very birds are still.
Gradually, gradually, a fulvous coat
delines itself against the oily green
leaves. There is on all nature a hush
that may be felt. Hound and eager eyes,
widely distended now t half in fear and
half in threat, gleam irridescent in the
dusky nook. We can see the flash of
while teeth between lijrs drawn back,
we cau almost hear the “spitting” like
cat’s, which welcomes us to
this solitude. New is the moment! Up
rifle, both together! With a savage
snarl he turns and shows all his spotted
side. Now,—now ! And the panther,
—“trots airily away with his tail up
raised, and considerable contempt de
picted oahis features!
This Is your exclamation, doubtless,
but the cruel facts of memory should
not be allowed to mingle with the bright
picture of imagination. I have missed
many easy shots in stern reality, but in
my simplest dream I’d scorn to intro
duce a rifle not warranted to carry
twenty miles, and true as death. But
if you will have it so, we’ll leave the
panther in his wood and pursue our
voyage.
Thedaygrows onto noontide! Ashore
every living thing has sought the shade
aud rests therein ; but we, gliding ever
downwards with the stream, hug the
reedy banks where great trees overhang
aud shelter us, aud so press on. Flowers
are over us, and under, and around;
uunamed weeds, but the more beautiful
in our sight for the world’s ignorance
of them. Lilies, blue and red and white,
of every shape aud every size, sleep on
the surface of “black-waters” and
warm, stagnant pools beside the river;
of such calm spots now and then we
catch a glimpse through some arch of
tufted reeds, or under the green-fringed
bridge of a fallen tree. No man “ hath
comesiuce the making of the world ” to
see the beauty here. For beauty there
is, in these little solitary ponds, more
exquisite than human skill can imitate.
Ah ! but there are other denizens than
tiie sweet flowers aud the pretty “Hy
lic” aud the honest, loud-throated bull
frogs. Great snakes dwell here and
twiue themselves among the lily-roots.
Colorless monsters they are with scales
mouldy, as from long solitude ; but now
aud again appears among these hideous
dwellers a brilliaut jeweled golden crea
ture, from the swiitstream near by. lie
dashes round the pond in high impa
tience and disdain, raising his shiny
head aud seeking the outlet with wick
ed eyes that gleam like lire. Sometimes
the horrid creatures of the pool, the
sickly looking snakes aud enormous
worms yet more ghastly than the
others in their foul softness —grow jeal
ous of the gemmed intruder, aud set on
him with hooked teeth and whip-like
tails aud deadly poisoD. Then to one
who stands by, a terrible sightis given.
Now ou the surface, now in the still
depths below, the merciless fight goes on.
The hunted reptile darts hither aud thi
ther, plunges bead fore most down among
the lily roots, springs into the air, twists
through his foes witii exquisite ac
tivity. They, the foul crowd, in chase!
They swim against one another, they
bite and strike in their vexation or in
payment of outstanding feuds. ‘Though
each enemy be three times his size, yet
is this brilliant stranger, armed with a
subtler venom, more than a match for
any two of them ; but numbers prevail,
and unless he liud in time the grass
grown entrance to the pool, he common
ly falls a victim to the outraged ugliness
of the indwellers. Yet in general one
might stay long beside these still and
flower-grown waters without discover
ing a trace of the monsters they contain,
l’retty sights are those most common on
their banks. In the dawn and at even
tide a hundred curious, graceful crea-
tures come here to slake their thirst.
Chattering monkeys slide down a creep
er, and thus suspended iu mid-air, drink
from their small hollow hands, —glanc-
ing ever round, above, below, with eyes
of quick suspicion, pausing each instant,
cliattering uninterruptedly to reassure
themselves. Birds of every size and
hue flutter to the shallows, and drink
gratefully. Big herons and huge white
cranes stalk about and chase the little
bull-frogs in their muddy nests. Squir
rels—from the small beauty not
bigger than a mouse to that vast
fellow with the crimson stripe along
his sides hop about the banks,
suckiDg the buds and roots of water
: plants. Deer, too, sometimes visit this
spot, when hunters or wild beasts have
scared them from their favorite stream.
Butterflies hover over it; orchids trail
their blossoms down almost to its sur
face. There is more beauty than horror
here. I was wrong to put those snakes
first in the description.
And then afternoon comes od, and
evening. The alligators slide down in
their oily’ manner from the sand banks,
as the declining sun begins to leave the
river. And theu, then, what wondrous
effects of golden light succeed! How
keen the blue shadows! How mysteri
ously dim each long vista of the trees!
The sunshine seems almost to drip in
liquid gold from twig to twig and leaf
to leaf, as it breaks through some tiny
gap iu the overarching foliage. Redder
that lightgrows, andredder; darker the
shadows; the air more full of life. A
scream breaks the forest stillness, —of
what tortured animal none
Roused by that signal, birds of
prey that fly by night wheel suddenly
out from their retreats and swin;
across the river. Night-hawks shoot
into the air, turn over, and sweep
down along the watery surface,
noiselessly as the moths they seek;
save now aud again a faint twitter
shows their thanksgiving for a prey.
Then a little later, when the topmost
boughs are blazing in red flames, and
all below is dim ami misty, the mosqui
toes sally forth, the bull-frogs wake and
sound tlie key note of their night-long
chorus. Fire flies, by one and two, flit
across the grass, vanishing and reap
pearing. Presently, as it grows darker,
they come forth iu swarms, and hover
rouud some tree that has attractions for
their kind. It is beautiful to watch the
sudden flash of light from the thou-
sands of these little insects, illuminating
the darkness for an instant —going out
and throbbing forth again. O, I could
dilate by the hour on the glory of the
tropics! There only does one see the
pride of life and the true lust of the
eyes. But my readers grow impatient!
It was perhaps a month after the visit
to my canoe. I was descending the
stream, and had reached a point some
fifty miles above the dwelling of my sav
age beauty. The day was at its hottest,
but for ten minutes wehad been consci
ous of an unnatural noise which swelled
through the forest like the noise of men
cheering, laughing, singing,—in fact,
like the roar of a multitude. We were
prepared forany event, when the canoe,
suddenly shooting*round a point, came
in view of a very large native house,
evidently crammed people, all evidently
drunk. “ This is a great feast, my lord,”
exclaimed my servant. It may have
been. Most certainly it was the noisiest
gathering I ever assisted at. “ Keep to
the other side of the river, and slip
past, if possible,” I ordered. But to
escape was hopeless. The men of the
festive party were, indeed, far too
drunk to feel sure of their vision at the
distance, but a troop of girls stood
by the river-side, laughing, compar
ing notes, overlooking their coiffure,
and criticising their friends 7 costume,
just as do civilized belles in like case;
save that these simple children of the
forest had no mirror but the limpid
stream, nor any dress to speak of, ex
cept flowers and beads. No hope of
LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING JUNE 9 1869
eluding those bright eyes! But unless
some well-known warrior were sum
moned to their aid house, I
had little fear the girls would dare to
address a white man, “Spin along !”
I cried, and we flew past.
But theattempt proved vain ! A slen
der silvery voice called aloud across the
water by the name these savages had
given me. Discovered, I had to submit,
and unwillingly gave the word to pull
ashore. The girls scattered as we drew
in, some running away iu real or affect
ed panic, some laughing hysterically at
a distance. But the greater number
rushed together, aud stood in a compact
body, holding each other tight. “Who
called me?” I asked, gayly, approach
ing the phalanx. Direful confusion and
dismay resulted. After somewhat of a
struggle in themidrecessesofthecrowd,
a slender girl was silently thrust out,
while the others looked at me with
speechless anguish. The victim thus
abandoned, held her bands before her
face, and all her graceful frame, scarcely
concealed by clothiDg, trembled, so that
I could hear the rattling of her innu
merable golden ornaments; but whether
her emotion wasof fear or mirth I could
not tell. In either case the situation
might well embarrass a shy man like
me. Not knowing what to do with this
slender child, and profoundly dis
comforted by a scorce of dilated eyes
fixed on me from the one side, while
on the other I could hear my boatmen
laughing to themselves, I boldly seized
her in my arms, and pulled apart her
hands. It was the heroine of my fancy !
She looked up at me with eyes brimful
of terror,—whether genuine, or assumed
as a likely weapon by the little flirt, I
have no idea. Do not think that the
white race has a monopoly of arts ; there
are few tricks in social optics which
Hindoos, Malays, and Negroes are not
thoroughly alive to.
While considering what I should say
or do, the damsel broke from me, aud
ran at topmost speed towards the house,
screaming with laughter. At this ex
ample, all the young girls dismissed
their terrified expression, and loudly
joined the outburst. I stood —it is not
to Be denied —in some confusion, feel
ing, indeed cut to the heart, as much by
the.indelicacy of this action as by the
proof it gave that no favorable impres
sion had been made on my adored one’s
fancy. This perturbation of mind was
not relieved by the frankness of my
serang, who observed with tbecalmness
befitting an undeniable statement of
facts, “ The girls make a fool of your
lordship!” I turned to regain my
canoe, and hurry from this ecene, but a
dozen potent chiefs, with their gold
fringed head-handkerehiefs, all away,
their necklaces wrong side before, and
their dress In an indescribable confus
ion, came to entreat my presence at the
feast. To refuse vras impossible. I fol
lowed them into the house.
All intelligent creatures drink, aud
most of them get drunk from time to
time. High reason, true morality, the
best medical opinions, and the expe
rience of every man, in vain combine to
discourage the practice. Daily are we
told that the custom is extinct, never to
come to life again in civilized commu
nities. Daily we read such assertions,
aud no man dreams of contradicting
them, because every one knows the
truth too well. People drank in all
ages, to excess from time to time, and
they will continue so to do till the mil
lennium.
Butifauy sight on this round earth
could causejthe British Parliament to
pass Sir Wilfred Lawson’s Bill, and
could persuade the English people to
accept it, —that sight was before me
when I entered the house. Of this we
will say no more, iu charity to my sav
age but generous hosts.
You will have observed the young
lady’s shocking rudeness to me at the
water side. Nothing creates iu my mind
a more abrupt revulsion than hoyden
ish conduct. If the Venus de Medici in
flesh laughed loud, or maliciously, or in
the wrong place, I should flee from her.
I cite the Medicean Venus, because,
looking critically at that young person,
I could believe her to be not too well
bred. Fancy Milo’s goddess mistaking
her “moude !” It cost me a severe men-
tal struggle to admit excuses for this
very doubtful conduct of my Hebe. To
laugh loud; to laugh loud and run
away ; to laugh loud and run away from
me— showed excessively bad taste. But
1 was overcome in meeting her at the
threshold. Such soft penitence was
expressed in her swimming eyes, such
graceful mutlnerie about her mouth! as
though to say’, “Please forgive me; if
you won’t, I know how to avenge my
self!” I longed to clasp her in my arms
again, and vowed that she should not
escape so easily next time. I walked
up the long veranda of the house, es
corted Dy r her father, aud numerous
chiefs, as distinguished, I was told, as
I saw they’ were drunk. They set me in
the place of honor, where the rock was
strongest, and the suu most fearful. —
Half a dozen of the leading men held
me upright with touching care, and I,
so far as my limited supply of members
went, reciprocated the service. There
were two brawny fellows who support
ed me under the arms. Both of them I
held'up by hand. There was another
valorous warrior who insisted that a
prop was needed for my back, and near
ly pushed me down, face foremost,in his
endeavor to sustain himself. Putting
my legs apart, and leaning forward, I
supported him also. “ Howlong is this
to last?” I asked the seraug, who was
treated in much similar manner by
warriors of less note. “They’re going
to perform some tomfoolery,” replied
the Mussulman sulleutly, for their ido
latrous rites entailed upon his orthodox
conscience an infiuite amount of su
pererogatory prayer. Meanwhile, my T
tawny belle had taken a place opposite
to mine, and there stood, watching me
with great eves.
I wont tell what tne ceremony was.
Drinking was its commencement, sing
ing its mid course, and getting drunk
its logical conclusion. Among other
absurdities, etiquette required that a
large bowl of liquor should be placed
on my head. I insisted that the vessel
should be empty. The dispute grew re
spectfully hot; but it was at length ter
minated by the utter overthrow of bowl,
liquid and bearer by a drunken chief in
a red petticoat. The young lady had
been much interested in this discussion,
and did not hesitate to pronounce in
strong language her opinion of those
engaged. “What does she say?” I
asked of my serang. He gave a slaDg
translation of her words. The language,
though notactionable, was by no means
what one likes to hear from a “young
person.” Nevertheless, when I found
time to look at her, and marked’ the
perfect and artistic repose in which she
leaned against a pillar—her moulded
arms raised above her head, and oue ex
quisitely-shaped anklecrossed upon the
other—l felt that almost auy crime must
bepardoned to such acreature, I stepped
across, and, looking on her smooth and
rounded shoulders, could not resist
temptation, —I put my around her neck,
—en tout honneur, s’U vous plait!—
Picture, if you can, my horrified sur
prise to find the pretty yellow color of
her skkin “come off” on my white
sleeve! “What the devil’s this?” I
asked of my serang. “Turmeric, my
lord!” the answered, promptly. That
was a great blow !
I overcame the emotion by an effort.
With the tendereat expression I looked
down into her eyes, which smiled shyly
back to mine. I started. Those beau
tiful lids, so thickly fringed with silk,
were unmistakably stained. “What the
devil’s this?” I asked of my serang.
“Burnt cocoa nut, my lord,” he calmly
answered. Again I felt a shock !
It needed a certain moral courage
longer to contend. Yet I kept my place.
Suddenly the young girl broke from my
arm, and pursued a stalwart slave, reel
ing down the house with a bundle of
tobacco, and a basket of maize leaves,
him Bhe overhauled, and from his load
snatched a handful of either substance,
wrapped the tobacco in the dry leaf
with a swift motion, thrust one end of
the cigarette thus made into a blazing
hearth, and returned to me leisurely
puffing at her prize. This was the third
blow!
Still I held fast to my illusion, and
entered into conversation with the houri.
She muttered a few frightened words in
answer to my remarks, and stood with
downcast eyes, the very image of inno
cence and propriety. On a sudden, a’
rush of warriors took place behind us, •
and one burly fellow, most notably ex
cited with strong drink, clasped
my companion round the waist,
and dashed down the long veran
da with her. “Is that her brother,
orherloyer?” I asked of my serang.
“ Probably neither, my lord! ” he an
swered. I looked on this profanation
1 with eyes indignant, and disgust ex-
pressed in my features. She laughed,
the houri! At the extreme end of the
house, another partner, drunk as the
first, seized hold of her, passed his
braceleted arm round her delicate waist,
and “ rushed ” her up the veranda once
more. She paused beside me, breath
less, her eyes danciDg with glee ! There
was not the slightest trace of shame on
bereountenance! Andyet these ruffians
who had taken such a freedom on them
selves, were nearly as drunk as a man
can be to stand upright. I was utterly
overwhelmed. 1 hastened from the
house, leaped aboard my canoe, and
vanished down stream. I did not expect
to see my dusky Hebe any more, nor,
at the moment, did I greatly wish to do
so.
But a month after, I found myself
once more in her neighborhood, having
ascended the river again, aboard a na
tive gunboat. We had with us a flue,
tail warrior, who gave himself out as
sou to the “brave chief” of whom I have
spoken. On making inquirios, I found
this fellow was half brother to my dusky
Hebe. Arrived at the nearest point to
his father’s house, I put myself in a
canoe with him and paddled up the
stream, not wholly unconscious of a cer
tain thrill at heart. We reached the
spot aud landed. The old chief sallied
out, with all his household, warriors
and slaves. It was somewhat touching
to see that recognition of the long-lost
heir, for the youth in our charge had
been captured by pirates long since aud
reduced to slavery. But I looked still
lor the fairy form, which, in spite of
a\l, haunted my fancy. She came
at length, bounding fr«m the jun
gle; her long hair loosed, and
streaming to the ground, her eyes afire
with eagerness aud excitemeuf. She
threw herself into hor brother’s stalwart
arms, nestled to his bosom, and cried
with girlish vehemence. And when at
length the first emotion had subsided,
she drew back a little, still encircled by
a lovjng clasp, to view the stately fellow
we had restored to her, and then threw
herself again upon his breast, and
and
“Kissed him, of course!” you ex
claim, my hearer.
Not at all! Deliberately and thought
fully smelt him all over! It was too
much. Thus was I disenchanted with
“lovely savages.”
It will not oe necessary to point out
the more obvious moral; but there is
one which vras lately explained to
me, —myself, the hero of the story.
I had told it to a lady, much as I have
told it you, reader. When I bad con
cluded, she remarked, with some em
phasis, “Let me give you a piece of
advice, Mr. Peregrin. In telling this
tale again give dates and localities
frankly, for fear of misconstruction. —
And, further, I would recommend you
not to cling overmuch to this life below,
since, savage are civilized, the feminine
nature shocks your taste. Perhaps
among the real angels you may find a
non-masculine creature, who powders
not, nor brightens her eyes, nor talks
slang, nor smokes, nor loves either
waltzing or scent. With mere eaithly
women of this day your search would
be hopeless !”
This was the moral a lady gave me.
A Home In the Ocean.
Correspondence of ttie N. Y. Journal of Corn-
Let us visit Minot Ledge Light-House
now, while this storm is at full power.
This ledge is covered by water, except
for a short time at very low tide. It rises
in Boston bay, about twenty miles'from
Boston, and one mile and a half from
Cohasset. Into it are fitted and bolted
down the stones of the tower, which are
dovetailed and bolted into each other in
such a fashion that no stone can be
moved witiiout lifting tower and ledge
with it. The tower, lightand all, is 11-1
feet in height; yet over it, clean to the
very top, the waves are dashing. Does
not their thunder make your very heart
tremble? But fhese keepers tell you
there is no danger! For forty feet the
towers are built up solid, except the
well, which is in the centre, thirty
eight feet deep. It holds a supply of
water for one year. The water keeps
good and pure. The well holds 2,000
gallons. It is rather warm in the sum
mer, and in the winter becomes as oue
of the keepers says, “a kind of porridge,
ice.” We will suppose we enter the
tower from a boat. To do so we should
either climb a ladder forty feet long,
fixed into the side of the tower, or he
swung up in a chair. At the top of the
ladder are two sets of oaken doors,
against which are now beating the hun
gry wares.
Between the otherdoorsand the inner
is an entry about three feet long. En
tering this room (which is the cellar),
from the doors are seen on the right
hand*.the coal and the wood. There
stands also a flour barrel, and over these,
suspended oil hooka, hang buckets of
various sizes, containing, doubtless,
many good thinga for food. On the left
is the oil pump for pumping oil into the
tank in the oil room. Here are chests,
ropes, brooms, tubs, pork barrels, aud a
little of everything needed for light
keeping and housekeeping. It is dark
and chilly here, aud wo had better as
cend. Ah! how good it amells here, in
the room next above the cellar. Kitchen
and dining room aud everything cosy,
comfortable aud neat. A table well
set—hot cakes aud hot coffee and
boiled fish —“Of course we will.”
And down we sit, not waiting a second
invitation. Well, is not this a singular
situation? It seems like dining in a
whale’s belly. Stormed about and
dashed about and poured about by the
remorseless sea, and eating a relishful
meal quite at our ease. It is certainly
oue “new thing under the sun” to some
of us. Each of the four keepers is off
one week and on three. Communica
tion with the land is often dangerous
and impossible. In the winter they
cannot get home as often as once in
three or four weeks. They all have
families on shore; and here they sit
during storms that shake to its founda
tions their lonely tower and envelope
its crystal summit in foam, and they
think of wives and little ones who may
be sick or dying without thepossibility
of sending word to their beloved watch
men on the soa.
“Do you not take pleasure in the
sights you must behold during all these
isolated days aud weeks?” asked one.
Oh, yes! We have a very extended
prospect, and one which is never twice
the same. Both sea and sky are for
ever changing, and everything that is
on the sea comes and goes. There is
nothing stationary but our tower. We
see all the vessels that go in and out of
Boston harbor, and in the summer we
are visited by pleasant parties in sailing
vessels and steamers, the latter of which
sometimes bring out bands of music,
which|play to us. They approach close
to us, and give three cheers for Minot
Ledge light. When visitors come into
the Light we sometimes find as much
amusement as they do. We have all
sorts of visitors, as you may suppose.
They come from China, California, and
from all parts of the world. We have
many famous and some infamous names
upon our visitors’ book. It may seem
straDge that so far as we are from shore
we should be visited by birds, insects,
millers and butterflies from the land.
The butterflies are of huge dimensions.
I have in tbe morning swept of the
walk that surrounds the lantern, thirty,
forty, and fifty of these little shore birds,
which, allured by the bright light, have
flown hither over the waters to their
death.
“ And here is a bit of the glass from
one of the squares of the lantern broken
last week by a large sea fowl, as we sup
pose, for we did not see the gentlemau.
This is the first accident of the kind
since the light was erected.”
“ How long was this tower in build
ing?”
“ Five years and four months.”
“What do you men find to employ
your minds and hands with, and keep
time from hanging too heavily upon
you?”
“ Oh, we manage to keep busy. We
make almost everything, from an ex:
tension table to a clothes pin. Then for
sport and to supply our table we fish.
We don’t have to ‘goafishiDg. 7 We
are already there. All we have to do is
to heave a line from the door, and in a
minute we have our dinner by the nose.
Then we have reading and writing and
sewing to do.”
By this time dinner is finished, and
up we go. The next room is a bed
room. We notice that the rooms are all
of one size, twelve feet in diameter, and
six or seven in height. Overhead in
this first bedroom is a long piece of
joist, which can be put out of the win
dow and used for raising up heavy ob
jects. Here is an iron bedstead, and a
chair that is also a bedstead, a on
which lies a register for the names of
visitors, a wardrobe, a marble wash
bowl and a water closet. Up again,
and we come to the oil room. About
the wall are ranged oil tanks, copper
colored oil cans, trays, &c., show that
we are nearing the light room. There
is one water tank in this room, also a
work bench and a box of glass for the
lantern. There are here au oil measure,
a tool chest and a spare lamp. Another
of the steep narrow stairways brings
us to the watch room—sitting room of
the tower. Here is a table, an arm
chair, a stove, books, papers, a few
pictures, and the machine for ring
ing the fogbell. From this room we
may now, since the storm has ceased to
send the waves so high, pass out on the
balcony that surrounds it. "Well for us
that the iron railing is so strong. There!
now you’ve no choice but to go home
bareheaded. Why did you not cling to
your hat and wig ? This wiud is enough
to take hair out by the roots, even if it
leaves the head Itself. What a scene I
what a noise! We cannot describe it.
Let us go on. One more flight aud we
are in the light room. Hire is the ob
ject for whose elevation and continu
ance allthismasonry was made —all this
skill and labor called forth. “ Aud the
light is the life of men,” Thus we ren
der it. At sunset the lamp is lit, and
sunrise it shines on iu the darkness
—a beacon aud a warning to all who sail
on that dangerous sea. The lamp has
three concentric wicks, and is in the
centre of a lens four feet in diameter and
ten feet high. Step within and look at
your friends through these prisms—how
do you like the looks of faces three feet
long ? This magnifies the power of the
light, and the glass walls of this room
probably have the same effect. There
i 3 another walk aud balcony without,
but wo will not try it. It is only on
calm, clear evenings that being out there
is agreeable. But within, not all the
cold and frost and storms of winter, ut
its worst, can effect one’s bodily com
fort. One is as thoroughly protected as
if he was in his tomb. Wonder if these
keepers ever have a nervous fancy that
they are entombed ! It would not be
strange. On the first balcony, about
three feet wide, we should have seen
the fog bell could we have seen anything
for the wiud and spray. It weighs
1,500 pounds, and is hung up against
the wall of the tower.
The Oriole and Bobolink
“Do yon no’er think what wondrous beings
ihese ?
Do you ne’er think who made lhara, and
who taught
The dialect th«y speak, where melodies
Alone are the Interpreters ofthouahl
Whose household words are bougs lu many
keys,
Sweeter than Instrument or man e'er ciugui!
Whose habitations In the tree toys even
Are half way houses on the load to heaven.’’
Loiuj/clluic,
The month of beauty, the month of
song, the month of all months, is now
at baud. The birds, with all wealth of
voice and plume, are with us now. They
are calling to us from the forest, chal
lenging one another in the meadow,
piping in the orchard, flashing through
the shrubbery, building in the porches,
dancing in the threshold, ami peering
into our dwellings with disdainful
looks, which seem to say, “How rude,
how dull, how gloomy are your homes!”
Sit down, I pray you, with me, in my
quiet library here, this pleasant after
noon, and I will have a familiar chat
with you about some of our birds, their
manners and their melodies. See, yon
der, beneath that glass case (which I
will remove, that you may examine
more closely), where those four speci
mens of the taxidermist's skill are
perched, looking almost as if alive.
Poor fellows, they will never sing again
—they have piped their last; but could
you have heard them quiriug their
melting madrigals, you would have
thought, that some careless tpigel had
left the gates of heaven ajar, and strains
of the celestial anthem were stealing
upon your ear; such a quartette would
these dear American birds have sung
for you. One would have caroled to you
of tiie orchard, another of the meadow,
another of the wild wood, and another
of the summer night. They are our
own birds—tiie Old World knows them
not —and each in his own sphere is
without a rival.
THK OHIOI.I.
This regally habited bird,seven inches
in length and eleven iu clear-spread, is
the Oriolus, the /cfern-v.lhegoldeu robin,
the fire-bird, tiie haugnest, the hang
ing-bird, the Baltimore oriole—call him
by whichever of these names you will,
his plumage will as splendidly flash, his
song as sweetly sound. lle was swing
ing on the topmost bough of a lofty tree,
as was his wont, pouring forth his soul
in song, when the winged destruction
fell on him. Poor fellow ! 1 can hard
ly believe him dead, and therefore it is
that I speak of him, as if he were stir
ring nimbly around us. See, how beau
tifully the black midnight of his head
and wing contrasts with the gold aud
saffron morning of his breast and back !
He is none of your upstart birds, but
must be content to plod on in a brown
plebeian coat for three long years before
he cau assume these regal rubes; aud
then, when he has learned humility,
how royally, and yet how modestly he
wears them!
Free aud airiy is he iu all his motious.
On the farthest twig of the swaying
brancli he sits and sings. There, too,
he builds his nest; while his dusky mate,
rocked by the summer winds, and lulled
by his song of love, warms her quintel
of flesh-tiuted and purple flecked eggs,
and rears her callow brood, feeding
them with the insect swarms which in
feat the orchards and the avenues. How
deftly he aud his mate construct their
pensile nest, stitching together with
horse hair, more neatly than ever care
ful house wife can, their flax aud hemp
aud wool, lining the bottom with solt
cow hair, the better to warm and still
their querulous fledgelings.
The oriole is a bird much in love with
man. You may look through the forest
for him in vain. But in the orchard,
where the creaking of the old well-pole
is heard, where the prattle and laughter
of children float in music through the
air, and the grufl* toues of man grow
gentle and mingle in melody with the
low, soft voice of woman, you will find
him with his goldden plumage aud his
bright and cheerful song. Yea, atuid
the crash and din of the great cities,
where humanity becomes oblivious of
half its higher, nobler, and purer quali-
ties, and when God himself is forgo*,'
into the avenue trees the oriole leans
his mate ; there he builds his nest, and
through the dust his gorgeous plumage
gleams, and above the roar and confu
sion of pride and mammon riugs out
his merry roundelay.
No bird is more easily aud perfectly
tamed than he. I knew one that was
caught and caged. In a little while,
however,"he became so familiarized that
he was taken from his prison, and a lit
tle nook on high, in the office ot his
master, was set apart for him. So con
fiding did he become, thathewould feed
from the hand, answer with affectionate
chirrup to the call, and often perch, un
bidden, on friendly aud familiar shoul
ders. And, like the gentle Kui.li,
through the golden summer and the
crimson autumn, he went and came,
gleaning in the azure fields of air. Aud
with many a merry gambol, cunning
prank, and pleasant way, he cheered
for his master the long and weary win-
ter. But when the spring-time came
again, he went forth ; and his visits
home became less and less frequent, un-
til, at length, he forgot his kind master
aud his snug little nook. Alas! after
that old, old fashion which passeth not
away, the poor fellow had fallen in love,
and taken to himself a mate. It was not
that he loved man less butthatheloved
his kindred more.
I bethink me now of two of these Or-
ioles, with whom I have been acquaint
ed for several summers. Ido not know
them by their shape and plumes. I
recognize them by tbeirsongs. During
their sojourn here, which extends from
May to October, they take up their res
idences within about aquarter of a mile
of one another ; the one in a public park,
and theotherin an orchard. And often
have I heard the chief musician of the
orchard, on the topmost bough of an
ancientappletree,sing his peculiar note,
to which the chorister of the park, from
the summit of a maple, would respond
in the same key, and, for the life of me,
I never was able to tell whether their
songs were those of rivalry, or of greet
ing and friendly intercourse.
THE BOBOLINK.
But hark, listen to the Bobolinks in
yonder meadow. Hear them jangling
like a chime of silver bells in the air.
Ah, a rare bird is this Embcriza oryzi
vora, this rice hunter, this reed-bird,
the Robert of Lincoln, this joyous, rol
licking Bobolink ! Heisour own bird.
You may take him to merry England,
or sunny France, if so be that you can
| bear him over the foam alive, but there
! he wili piue for the meadows and rice
! fields of his native and changeful eli
minate, sit aongless on the porch, and in
! a little time droop his wing and die. A
: shrewd bird is Robert of Lincoln, and
he must be more than a passablesports
man, aud keep a keen eye open, who
' would bring him down —that is, before,
on his return to the South, he gorges
1 and fattens in the rice-fields.
; This pied coat of black, yellow and
white he puts ou in thespring, when he
1 goes a-wooing his quiet Quakeress of a
! sweetheart. Ah, what a gallant little
' lover he makes; how he jangles around
• and above her in his gayest garments
, and with his sweetestsoug. With what
; volubility he tells his tale of love. Aud
: what a fond and careful husband he
makes, and how merrily speeds the
: honeymoon ! Singing his cheeriest, he
builds beneath the tufted meadow grass
, his lowly, secret best ; aud while his
modest little wife broods over her five
, white and browu eggs, beguiles for her
; the long and patient hours, hovering
' above her in mid air with his fautaatie
! plumes and song. But let the duties of
a father press upon him, the rollicking
lover, the light-hearted bridegroom
ceases his amorous aud delectable de
scant, assumes a grave manner and ser
ious tone, aud exchanges for his wed
diug garments a plain and dusky brown ,
attire. Never puts he on that gay robe
j again, uulessto woo and win once more.
I hor place him in a cage, he will not
drop while his pleasant native vales are
around him; he will sing, though the
prison bars shut him out from commun
ion with his kind; he first saw the light
where music, like the broad, sweet sun
shine, lay about him; ami he cannot
slitle the melody within his heart; but
he will drop, oue by one, those beautiful
plumes, and never put them on again,
till love and freedom are once more his.
When the autumn comes, you will
see these bobolinks gather together
their household bauds to troop for the
South. The elders have lost their
voices, while the youthful have not
yet learned to sing. But every now
and then an old oue will try, on hover
ing wing, his melody, as if teachiug his
young the strain, and after uttering a
few broken notes, sink down in seem
ing sorrow among the assembled broods.
It is as if an aged sire, sitting in the
calm suushine of serene old age, should
try, with feeble voice, some fond song
of his lover-days, or some childhood’s
ditty that falters in forgetfulness, and
drop bis head upon his bosom “to muse
and brood and live again in memory
with those old faces of his infancy,
heaped over with a mound of grass.”
a favorite bird is the Bobolink, and
from the Bt. Lawrence to Terra del Fu
ego he is a welcome visitor. Not a
child but thathaiis'his comin^with de
light, aud with some queer jargon or
babylonish dialect mimics his metallic
melody.
Verily a strange song is that of his—
set in no key, and yet wandering
through every key—as incomprehensi
ble as Wagner’s “Music of the Future” —
so fantastic, so incoherent, that it would
task the powers of that great Tone-Beer
to score it. Indeed musical notation
would utterly fail to preseut It. But a
little innovation upon the children’s
mimicry would give us this :
Bobolink! Bobolink! hero I bring
My sung oi the sweet Hummer'a glee, glee, glee!
Ami 1 tilDg, oh I Bing,
w lid roses from my wing
To the butler-cups, that swinging
All their tinkling bells lu tune,
(joidru peal on peal are ringing
O'er the bridal bed of Juue,
Aud with links ofluve to heaven link the lea!
Which you may accept as an inter
pretation of his melody, if you please !
Aud when the winter comes again, aud
you wish to revive your pleasant mem
ories of Robert of Liucoln, prevail upon
some-sweet, fresh-voiced maiden rapidly
ami laughingly to repeat this verse, aud
my word for it, if you do not turn iu
memory, or in anticipation, to the
meadows filled with suushine, bloom
ami soug, it will be because the greater
charm before you dims the lesser charm
remote.
These Bobolinks are singular little
birds (not so little after all, as they are
about the size of the Orioles), singular
in all their habits and ways. They come
to us iu May by nocturnal flight, as if
they thought their sudden surprise of
us would occasion a greater delight, the
females some days in advunce of the
males. And when, ou some clear morn
ing, you iicar their merry jangling over
the leaves, you may rest assured that
the beuutifu), bright-blue weather is at
baud. Thejmever come till tbesummer
has pitched its green and golden tent in
the meadows, i have seen the swallows
earlier than I have heard their song.
Their return southward i 3 by day, so
that we may watch them as they wing
their way to the rice fields, and wave to
them our farewells as they take their
flight.— Ptltrsonfor June.
Trout liaising.
Our fiietid Jeremiah Comfort, whose
residence is near Spring Mills, Mont- ,
gomery county, and whose postoflice ,
address is Conshohocken, will soon be- i
come as famed ai Hetli Green, of New ]
York, in his speciality of trout raising.
We paid his propagating establishment
a visit last week, and we were not sim- (
ply pleased with the suceess which has
thus far attended his efforts, but were .
absolutely surprised that in so short a
space of about eighteen mouths the
building should be erected, and twenty
thousand healthy (rout disporting in hia
ponds! It is next to impossible that
greater success could attend any attempt
of the kind. And what .is quite re
markable, Mr. Comfort never saw a
trout until ho hatched them upon hie
own premises!
The oldest trout was hatched early in
January of last year, and though only
sixteen months old, measures full nine,
inches in length. There are, liewever,
several of this size, and about two hun
dred from six inches up. These are in
a separate pond. Then in the next
pond are the next size, ranging from
four to six inches ; aud in a third pond
or ‘division the remainder of the last
year’s‘ r hatching, amounting to seyeral
thousand, and raugiug from two and a
half to four inches. But it must be re
membered that all these trout were
hatched about the same time, and are
of all theseMiffierent sizes. In the pro
pagating bohse is the great bulk of the
stock, hatched two or three months ego.
They are a little overan iuch in length,
and appeared to be in the best health.
Indeed they could not be otherwise
under the particular sanitary; arrange
ments adopted.
There is positively nothing left undone
to the spawn aud the young fish to
secure purity of the water and exemp
tion from the diseases to which even
, the ova is exposed. Mr. Comfort said
lhat he realized about SO percent, offish
from the eggs, which is as high as auy
result we have yet seen. He is ;about
; to enlarge hia ponds, and ho expects
largely to increase the volume of water,
1 which is of great purity and peculiarly
• adapted to theculture of trout. Hewill
• soon produce enough to supply this
• whole region of country, at moderate
, rates, and will become renowned for his
; operations throughout the country.—
, U< rmanlown Telegraph.
Effects of Trees on Climate,
Theground on which stands Ismallla,
a town of 0,000 inhabitants, on the Suez
Canal route, aud the headquarters of M.
de Lesseps, was but a few years since a
dry, sandy desert, on which rain was
never known to fall. All is now trans
formed. The old, dried-up basin of
Lake Tirnaah has been again filled with
water from the Nile by a fresh water
canal. Trees, shrubs, and plants of all
descriptions grow rapidly wherever the
soil is irrigated, and the artificial oasis
widens fast. “Accompanying, 1 ’ writes
a correspondent, “this extraordinary
transformation of the aspect of the
place, there has been a corresponding
change in the clim&to. At the present
time Israailia, during eight mouths of
the year, is probably the healthiest spot
iu Northern Egypt.” The mean tem
perature for the four months, June to
September, is 94 degrees.; the following
foui; months, 74 degrees, and the four
winter mouths, 4-5 degrees. Until two
years ago rain was unknown ; but in
the twelve months endiDg April lasy
there were actually fourteen days jefn
which rain fell; and very lately there
fell a tremendous shower of rain, a phe
nomenon which the oldest Arab a&d
neverpreviously witnessed. Rain ceases
to fall on a couutry deprived of its for
ests, or only falls in violent storms. —
Here we see rain returning to the des
ert on restoring the trees.
A few days ago Anton Richer, a German,
while sick of brain fever in a third story
room at Bethlehem, in a delirious fit,
jumped through the window to the pave
ment. No evidence of injury could be seen,
1 although he died the following day.
NUMBER 23
By Balloon to Europe.
Slona. Cbovnller’s Balloon Trip Acron*
the Atlantic from Xew York—A famous
Aeronaut— tilg Previous ixploiw
plnoji ana Preparations lor tUe Urcat
Enterprise.
About three mouths ago a small para
graph in oue of the moruiug papers an
nounced the arrival upon our shores of
a balloonist of the name of Chevalier,
who was going to make au aerial voy
age from New York toEurope. Readers
of theparagraph recalled ‘‘Prof.’' Lowe’s
money-makmg fiasco in a similar pro
ject a few years ago, and dismissed
Chevalier from miud as a humbug.
Mons. Chevalier, however, little recked
whatsuch peoplosaid about him, indeed
does not appear to have cared whether
the general public said or knew any
thing at all of him, for scarcely a word
in his behalf has been seen in the public
prints from that day to this. Meanwhile
lie has been consulting with gentlemen
whose counteuance and support are
worth having —such men as Prof. Lore
raus aud Prof. Heury of the Smithsonian
Institute, aud a number of solid men ot
means down town, and to-day the great
enterprise is in a most auspicious state
—the bailoou and Us appurtenances in
complete order, thecouuectiou with the
gas pipes for supplying gas made at
Laudmaun’s Park, and the period of
departure definitely fixed for about the
middle of July.
■who is on i:val.li:r. '
He was born in St, Petersburg in l'' l -' ll ,
being tlie son of an olUcer of the Hus
sian army. The Emperor Alexander
himself stood godfather at his christen
ing; but Mons. Chevalier claims a;
closer relationship to the C/.ar than that ;
of godson eveu, tor his mother was an
Auowfriefi* —which is tlie family mime
of the Graud Luke Constantine, who
ought, by the rights of descent, to be
on the throne instead of the present
Autocrat. After having gone through
the wars against tichauiy i the Circassian, j
with his father young Chevalier was j
taken to by his mother, !
where he was placed in the University j
of Geneva, to be educated for a surgeon.
He finally abandoned surgery, however
for chemistry and metallurgy, ami
eventually followed his brother to Au
stralia, where they engaged in mining.
In a few years he had returned to Paris,
where, in lSfj-, he was studying pho
tography with Nadar and Disderi.
From the days of his student life ho had
a penchant for aerostation, aud had
lavished his patrimony on balloons of
all shapes aud varieties—fish-shaped,
bird-shaped, cigar-shaped, cylindrical,
with machinery aud without, but be
yond the gratification of his taste for
ballooning study, aud no result save the
reduction of his fortune, lie finally
made one invention in his art, however,
which will give him an enduring fame,
and which goes far toward assuring the
success of his perilous enterprise of
traversing tne wide Atlantic. This was
the “compensator” balloon —a small
reservoir balloon placed beneath the
mouth of the main balloon to receive
the gas which escapes by expansion iu
high altitudes, aud which iu ordinary
balloohs is lost. It was during his stay
In Paris with Nadar that Chevalier en
gaged in the greatest ballooning feat in
history, the voyage of
THE FAMOUS BALLOON “i.K GKANT."
The remurkable incidents of the as
cent of "Le Gaunt,” which took place
in Paris iu 1804, aro doubtless fresh in
the memory of many of our readers.
Chevalier had with him as amtpagnons
du, voyage, the Princess Le la Tour
L’Auvergne. a then famous “girl ofthe
period,” Nauar, M. DeleßHert, the two
brothers Godard, M. Tirion, (great
grandson of Mongolller, ami M. Le St.
Felix. "Le Gcant” was lbS feet in
height, held U50,0U0 cubic feet of gas,
and was of such tremendous power that
previously to the final start it took up
54 soldiers of the National Guard, or as
many as could be packed iuto the car
and its rigging. The bailoou was pro
vided for the voyage with iudia rubber
beds, a printing press, from whioliflbul
letlns in the shape of printed handbills
were scattered out during the progress
of the voyage, with directions in sev
eral languages to forward them to Paris
and London, a complete photographic
apparatus, and a set of the best astro
nomical instruments, presented by va
rious scientific societies. "Le Gcant”
left Paris at 5 I*. M. on the 10th of Sep
tember. The same night, at luo’cloek,
its electric lights attracted the attention
of the guard on a boundary post between
Holland aDd Germany, who informed
the balloonists that they were TOO miles
from home. They then ascended again,
and during the night Chevalier had the
proud pleasure of seeing the value of
his compensator balloon practically
demonstrated, as it was at one time half
full of gas that would otherwise have
been lost, and rendered further progress
impossible. The landing was ellected
the next day at 8 o’clock, not without
serious casualties, however, as the
Princess, Nadar, Bt. Felix, Lelessert,
and Chevalier, all bad limbs broken, i
aud were otherwise seriously hurt. The j
bailoou had traversed I.SUU miles in 15 ;
hours.
Several other ascents of Chevalier’s
have become historical. In lsiiT he
crossed the English Channel from Lub
lin, landing in Westmoreland, after a
sail of 154 miles, done in 4 hours. In
18(53, he ascended from Hull, England,
and attaiued the altitude of 3U.0U0 feet,
a heighi|whichhe claims has{uever been
equalled, and beyond which he believes
it is not given to man to go. He was
privileged to witness on this occasion
phenomena hitherto unrecorded, but it
was at the expense of the most acute
suffering. At the bight of 14,000 feet
breathing became difficult, aud some
pigeons lie had with him were unable
to fly; at 30,000 feet the blood started
from every pore of his body, as well as
from nose, eyes, and ears, and his
clothes were saturated.
lIOW THE ATLANTIC VOYAGE IS TO UK
ACCOM II LIS HKD.
M. Chevalier has made 105 balloon
voyages, and may be presumed to have
a moderately good understanding of the
difficulties liable to a voyage across the
Atlantic. He declares that these diffi
culties are not peculiar to the Atlantic
voyage, except as it is one of unusual
extent aud duration. They naturally
range themselves under two heads, viz :
J. Maintaining the buoyancy of the
balloon.
11. Keeping to a direct course.
The great cause of the diminution of
the buoyancy of a balloon is the rising
and falling iu the altitude of its course.
In the case of the ordinary balloon, ev
ery flight above the average level costs
an expenditure of both gas and ballast.
The gas is lost by expansion and conse
quent overflowing from the mouth of
the balloon ; this Joss of gas then causes
the balloon to sink below the course,
which in turn compels tho throwing
out of ballast to bring it up again. The
loss of gas in fluctuations is a very se
rious consideration in the case of a bal
loon of the size of that in
which Prof. Chevalier is to make his
trans-Atlantic trip. "Jf Ks}>erance"
for that is its name, has a capacity for
30.000 feet of gas. At the height of 50,-
000 feet the atmospheric pressure is, sky
I—l Utli less than at the surface of the
earth, and the gas consequently ex
pands 1-lUth in volume at that eleva
tion. If, every time Chevalier’s bal
loon should rise 3,000 feet, it were to
lose 1-lOth of its contents, equal to 00
pounds sustaining power, it would not
be two days before L'Espcrance would
sink iuto the sea never to rise again.
HOW TH EGAS AN I) BALLAST A KK SAVED.
i It is here that M. Chevalier’s own in
vention, the “compensator” balloon,
comes into play. Attached to the lower
part of L’Esperanee is a second or res
ervoir balloon, which is not inflated at
the earth, but is ready to receive the
excess of gas resulting from expansion |
at high elevation. Prof. Chevalier has |
also devised an ingenious contrivance j
to secure a rebound of the balloon from '
the depression consequent upon one of j
these flights without any expenditure j
of ballast, which, of course, is most pre- j
cious on a long ocean trip. the j
hoop, to which is fastened the netting
that covers the balloon above and the
car'below, he has extended a windlass*
.made of a hollow cylinder. A rope of
sufficient strength aud length is attach
ed to and wound upon this windlass. At
the lower extremity of the rope are fas
tened, at proper intervals, a number of
' small waterproof canvas bags, whose
mouths are kept open by small rings.
Between these at stated distances are
disposed a number of small conical
floats, which are intended to serve the
purpose of supporting the length ol rope
when it reaches the sea by the depres
sion of the balloon. As the balloon de
scends the lower portion of the rope is
gradually deposited upon the surface of
the sea, relieving the balloon of its
weight, until a sufficient quantity has
BATE OF ADVEBTIBIBG.
Business advertisements, $l3 a year par
quare of ten lines; f o per year for each ad
ditional square*
read Estate Advebttbino, Meant* a llne;for
ibe drat, and 5 oents for eaoh subsequent in
sertion.
nresmAT, advertising 7 cents a line for the
first, and 4 ceDtt for each subsequent Inser
tion.
Special Notices Inserted In Local Column
15 oents per Una,
Special Notices preceding nmirlage* and
deaths, 10 cents per line for first lnsertioni
and & cents for every subsequent lnsertlonf!
Legal akd oth r b Notices—
Executors’ notices
— IAIIB jOUkv. T-^-
Admlnlstrators' notloes,.. *.■•••»-
Assignees’ jWO
Other “Notices, ’ten lines, or leu, 3
three times .. ..... 1.60
been thus disposed of to arrest the bal
loon's further descent. Suppose the
hailoou to have passed through rain
showersor dounda highly charged with
vapor during the night, and the ropes of
the uettlng and other parts of theappa*
ratus to have become heavy with mols*
ture. No less thau -00 ,or 300 pounds
weight is often added to a balloon In
this manner, and if there be no sun to
j dry up the moisture the added weight
I brings the balloon to the earth. As
, soon, however, aa the rope from the oar
jof Espcrance begins to trail ou the
j surface, the balloonjceases to fall, aud
l continues ou its way at an unvarying
| elevation until the suu or wiud takes
i the heavy moisture out of the rigging,
| when she is enabled to regain her pre
; vious altitude iu theskies. Now, again
i the rope acts as a check to a too great
; nsceut with Its attendant loss of gas.
I The water bags ou the rope have beeil
1 filled as they were trailed through the
water, and the increased wdight pro
ven (s a high (light aud keeps the balloon
down to her work, so to speak, with the
whole original power or buoyency of the
rebound. By this simple aud beautiful
arrangement of the ropo with its water
bags, the ballast of the balloon isdiinln
ished or incrcu&al at will; indeed the
balki.it itsiff without the inter
vention of the aeronaut, according to the
necessities of the moment. Prof. Cheva
lier is cotilUlent that by meaus of the
compensator aud the ballast with
such a balloon as L’Ksporance, con
structed for the occasion, elevation can
be maintained for a period of one month
should circumstances require it.
HOW Till-; IS I’KKSKIIVKD.
The second of the two great problems
of the undertakiug is how to keep the
balloon on a direct course. Chevalier
is not bv any means a victim to a belief
in balloon navigation. Iu fact, he has
a perfect contempt for the balloon,con
sidered as an airship, and says it is
good for nothing but for the purposes
of scientific observations. A balloon,
he says, so far from being a ship is uot
even a buoy let loose from Us moorings ;
for a buoy floats on the surface, but tho
aerial sea has no surface. A balloon,
says tho Professor, is a jelly-fish im
mersed in a Haul by whoso every cur
rent it is helplessly carried to and fro ;
the jelly-fish makes feeble efforts to di
rect its own course, with about aa much
success as those of a balloou. How
then, is M. Chevalier to know when he
ascends from Laudanum's Park next
July, whether he is about to cross the
Atlantic or tho Pacific? Tho answer
is, that though Chovalier does not be
lieve in balloons lie does not bolievo In
currents. In every ascent during his
long career, he says, lie found on reach
ing an altitude any where between H.OOO
and 10,00 U feet that the wind tvaa inva
riably from the west or rather the north
west, however way the wind was blow
ing near the ground ; In each of his one
iiuudred aud sixty-five asceuts he fouud
a northwest current iu tho upper atmoa
phero. Chovalier believes this currout
to bo a discovery of his own, and it Is
for the glory of establishing his theory,
rather than of sailing three or four thou
sand miles over the water, (which lie
regards quite an every-day aflair) that
lie undertakes his balloon voyage from
North America to Kurope.
Tins ouiins uoi*b.
He will be greatly assisted In deter
mining tho actual course which his
balloon may be at any time pursuing
by the rope suspended from the ear, de
scribed above. As tho rope, when
touching tho water, will always drag In
the rear, it will only be necessary to
observe its direction by the compass,
aud that of tho balloon itself is at ouce
indicated. Another equally Important
determination which the guide ropo
will afford, ami which will not be at
tainable by any other means, will be
the distance at which the balloon is
from tho immediate surface of the earth
at any timo when the view is obstructed
by clouds, fog, or darkness. The barom
eter ufTords information only as to the
height above the mean level of the sea,
and, without the warning given by tho
guide rope, tho balloon might at any
time, when sailing too low, ho dashed
against mountainous waves; and, owing
to the velocity with which it would bo
moving on the wings of a storm, such a
shock would ho fatal.
!•'INAI 4 I’llKl'A HATTONS Foil THE VOY*
Mods. Chevalier may bo seen almost
any morning quietly ut work pulling
the finishing touches on his balloon at
Lundmann's Park. He is a quaint,
unobtrusive, yet prepossessing young
man of .‘l3 years, of dark complexlou and
with black hair and mustache. Ho has
a large aud kindly black eye, and a cou
tenance which impresses one that its
owner is a stranger to physical fear, lie
converses and writes in excellent Eng
lish, though ho speaks amt writes in
French, German aud Russian as well.
He is very communicative and enter
taining in elucidating his plans and
theories. He has not yet determined
as to how many and what companions
ho will take along with him on hia voy
age. The applications for passage on the
rare but perilous journey have been
pouring iu on him by hundreds. Au
opportunity to try the accommodations
of the ship will be given these aspiring
candidates for aeronautic fame during
the several preliminary ascents at the
end of a rope which will he made at
Landmann’s Park next week. The
final varnishing of the balloon hasjust
been completed, the valve was being ad
justed yesterday, and the Professor is
busy with maze of knotted cordage
which forms the rigging of the silkeu
ship. A life raft has been presented
L'Espvrancc which will bo suspended
beneath the car of the balloon in read!**
ness for use should the aeronaut find it
desirable to take to the watery element.
The balloon is bo feet high, fio feet in
diameter and has a buoyancy capable of
sustaining 8 tuna.
Horen Id Cattle.
It is to us a little curious to see this
subject coming round again In the va
rious agricultural papers, with sundry
receipts, applications aud treatments
recommended —such as making an
incisiou into the paunch with a
knife, to let out the gas—giving tar,
soft soap and milk, linseed oil, etc. —
when a cure results not, (excepting in
the first one) directly from either rem
edy, but indirectly from the liberation
of the gas in the stomach by the /area
applied in either case, to raise the anl
mil’s head, aud the struggle it makes in
resisting. The most cruel and unneces
sary oi all the remedies proposed, is
piercing the paunch with the knife;
next to this, In unnecessary cruelty to
the animal, is driving them rapidly,
with a stick, which often liberates the
gas in the stomach, resulting from the
100 rapid swallowing and lermeutatlon
of green food.
All that i. 4 wanted to cure hoven in
cattle, (and we mention this ouo because
it is generally the quickest to be got,
and fjuickncM is important,) is a broom
handle. Put it iu Hie animal’s mouth
crosswise, of course, and tie it up lightly
behind the horns, so as to jjreas hard
on the corners of the mouth. The aul
j mal in biting at it, to get rid of the an
| noyunce, works the jaws , and the gas
|is liberated. Let the first stick be
j seized which is convenient,and applied
I in this way, when the swelling will
1 soon disappear.
, Our Giiester county farmers use this
: remedy, and want no other if the case
jis discovered soon enough. We once
cured withiu five minutes a short-horn
j hull, which cost us $-700, by twisting a
! hay rope aud inserting it in the mouth
aud behind the horns. It operates tho
same as the broom handle, by causing
the jaws to work.— Practical Farmer.
A Kcrncdy for Cribbing llorses.
Hanford Nowell, of Sanford, Maine,
informs us that his remedy for a horse
addicted to the habit of “ cribbing,,, is
to buckle a strap around the neck of the
horse, just hack of the ears and jaws.
Have the strap an inch or an Inch and
a half wide, aud buckle it as tight as
the animal will bear. This strap may
remain upon the auimal’s neck In the
stall, or harness or pasture without any
iucouveuience, and will, he writes.
“ surely stop the horse from cribbing.”
He continues, “ This disease, if you will
permit me to call it such, ißinmropln
ion entirely a nervous disease. I never
knew a low-lived horse.to ‘crib it is
most always the high-nerved or high
spirited animals that are addicted to It.”
—Maine Farmer.
The Mcadeville Republican of Wednesday
lust says a little boy two years old, son of
Peter Stoyer, of Coehrantown, in trying to.
climb through a fence, lost his foothold, and
in falling his head locked between two
rails, and thus be hung until lire was ex
tinct. His mouth was pressed down bo
that he could make no cries, nor could he
breathe through his nostrils, bo that he soon
suffocated.