Site jfSiuaiHtf gstelUgenfer, Published every 'W’editesday by U. G. SMITH* GO A. J. Steikman E. G-. Smith. TERMS—Two Dollars per annum, payable In all oases In advance. The Lancaster daily Intelligewceb Is published every evening, Sunday excepted, at $5 per Annum In advance. OFFICE—SOUTHWEST COBHXB OY OEHTBE BdUAKE. _ fodnj. discipline. A block of marble caught thoglanco Of Buonara til’s eyes, Which brlghtot) ed In their solemn deeps, Like meteor lighted skies. And ono who Btood-besldehlm listened, Smiling as he hrord; For, "Iwlil make an angel of it!" Was the bculptor’s woid. And soon mallet and chisel sharp The stubborn block assailed. And blow by blow, and pang by pang, The prisoner unveiled. A brow was lifted, high and pure ; The wak’niug eyes outshone; And as the master sharply wrought, A smile broko through the stone! Bonoath the chisel’s edge, the hair Escaped in lloatlng rings; And, plume, by plume, was slowly Ireed The sweep of half-furled wings. Tho stately bust and graceful limbs. Their marble fellers Shed, And where the shapeless block,had been, An angel stood instead! O blows that smile! O hurts that pierce Thin shrinking neart of mine! What are ye but the master’s tools Forming a work divine ? O hope that crumbles to my feet!; O Joy that mocks, and tiles ! What aro ye but tbo clogs that bind My spirit from thesules? Sculptor of souls I I lift to thee Encumbered heart and bands Spare uot tho chisel ! set mo free, However dear tho bauds. How blest, If all these seeming Ids Which draw my thoughts to thee Should only prove that thou willmako Au uuy-1 mil of me ! gtUsffUancou?. A Story of the Moscow Railroad. I w fta at Moscow in tho winter of ISO-, and liar! exhausted the programme of “flights” which every true believer in the British system of traveling is bound to go through. I liad traversed the glittering hulls of the Imperial Palace, and made Lhecircuil of the red turret crowued wull which girdles the Krem lin ; 1 had looked down upon the frozen Moskva from the summit of the Ivan Veliki tower, aud marvelled at the fan tastic coloring of the pineapple-shaped church of Vasili the Blessed. I had stood within tho voiceless lips of tho Mammoth Bell, aud peered iuto the muzzle of the Mouster Cannon. I had bought photographs in’the Kouznetski Most, and hipped tea in the Troitski Trakteer, and 1 was now awaiting the arrival of u friend from St. Petersburg, iu whose'coinpany 1 proposed extend ing my travel eastward us\furas Niini. An omiucnL authority has said, “ In traveling through a romantic country, select a practical companion ; in a Hat Country, select a romantic one.” Strict ly speaking, tho scenery of Central Russia can hanJly be called romantic, tho best way to form au idea of it being to multiply a billiard board by live mil lions, and subtract lbe elisions ; but my proposed companion was one who would have neutralized the oiled of a tropical sunset or a moonlight view from Mount Oliver. A more thoroughly practical man than Fred. Allfact never breathed ; mull would coulideuliy have prescribed him as a corrective to an imagination as luxuriant ns that of Victor Hugo or the author of “ Pnauta-ites.” No play of fancy had a moment’s chance with that remorseless Manchester iutel.ect, and we had a joke against him ou that score at Rugby which iu hardly forgotten yet. Ouo of the inmates ofour dormitory was telling a sLory rc/crcnn) of a phaulom ship, ihu crew whereof had perished in mutual conllict, and were thenceforth doomed to remain lifeless on the deck during the duy, while at midnight they acted again the butchery which had been the closing scene of their mortal career. Jn.,i at this mo ment, while the indrawn breath of the audience judilied their emotion, Fred's slow, sententious tones were heard; “ Well, 1 really dou’t see why the poor fellows mightn’t have goue aud amused themselves during the day, aud then come back in time for the light iu the evening! ” I had got a good breakfast ready for Fred, for the practical man has a prac tical appetite, likely, to be doubled after such ujourney. To go from St. Peters burg to Moscow iu winter is no light matter ; iu the lirst class you are stewed alive; iu the second you are frozen to death; aud in both smothered with smoke by your fellow passengers; and although in point of speed a great ad vauce hasreceutly been made (the lithe of trausit beiug reduced from twenty hours to nineteen and a half), yet this, tinder such circumstances, is quite long enough. Ten a. m. being tho usual hour of arrival, 1 had a plentiful repast on the table by l(l.:;o, concluding that (as the train stops only nine times for re freshment), my friend would probably : staud iu need of it. The half hour struck, aud ho did not appear. I went ' to the window, in the hope of speedily beholding a sledge coming joltiug into the snow-heaped court yard, bearing 'Fred aud all hia fortunes, but nothing was to bo aeeu. The three-quarters struck ; thou the hour,—aud I was be ginning to feel surprised, for these creeping trains are usually punctual,— when the long expected guest made his appearance. But instead of bursting into the room with a loud laugh aud a boisterous greeting,according to custom, lie entered with the uucerlaiu Btep of a sleep-walker, and without uttering a sound, it needed hut one glance at his faco to tell me that something extraor dinary must have befallen him. The jovial, rubicund visage was now dead ly pale; the lirrn lips quivered convul sively ; the clear bright eye was dilated with horror. Few men who had seen Fred Allfact on the brink of an Alpine .precipice, or in the midst of an Atlantic -hurricane, would have recognized him now. “ WlmL on earth's the mutter with you muu ?” usked J. “ Why, you look us you hud seen a ghost.” “I’voauun worse,” replied he, ill a tremulous voleo. “Good Heavens! I've olteu heard of such things, hut I uevcrbcllovfd in them before. i>y Jove! It's too horrible!” “ What is? wluit’a it ull about?” “Give mo some breakfast, aud then I'll tell you. I‘orhups I’ll be able to eat now. J have n’t touched a morsel all the wuy.” “ What, uot for twenty hours? You ought to be hungry, then. SVell,'’cat ilrst, aud talk afterwards.” He made the attempt, but It was a miserable pretence. To me, who re* mumbered ills breakfast before ascend ing Mont lllano, and his supper after swimming across the Vistula, there was something portentious iu this sudden loss of appetite ; aud I eagerly awaited the recital of his adventures which ho comruoneed us follows: ” We loft Petersburg at Iho usual time yestorduy, and l, wishing to make my self comfortable (for it was desperate cold,) got Into u first-class compartment where I. found an ollluor, a Ifuly, and a man who might havo heuu anything, for his collar ami cap hid his face com pletely. The train was going to start, and that wns perhaps the reason why no more people got iu ; though, lndeeu, there wero would not have been much room for them uuyhow, for each of ua had a good deal of baggage, except to bo sure, the wrapned-up man, who seemed to have limning with him but a large bundle. Well, oil’ went the train, aud for the first fifteen or twenty versts I was as silent us poor Albert Smith used to say the English always are In foreign society; but by and by I got to exchanging a few words with the oificer, aud presently the lady, who was with him, joined in. They spoke in French, at which I’m pretty fluent, as you know" (Fred could never ” bo bothered” to learn Russian), “so in a Isttle time we rattled away famously, and by the time we got to Luban, where the first twenty minute’s halt is made, and were all as thick as thieves. Here my two friends got out to take a.smack, but 1,, having made a big dinner just before leaving, dld’nt think it worth while eating again so soon, and just strolled up and down the platform, till, noticing that the mulllea man did’nt get out, I went to see what ho was do ing. “All the time he had beeu talking this man never said a word, but sat In the corner like a wax figure; aud when I looked in and saw him still sitting there motionless with his bundle beside him, it reminded me somehow of a picture I saw long ago where a mur derer was sitting watching beside the body of his victim.” "Whatl” cried I. "Fred. Allfact turning imaginative! Wonders will never cease.” "Ah, it’s all very well for you to chaff,” retorted Fred, rather acrimonl ®t)ie jtancastcr ilntcllnjmcct; • ftl „ -- - - ■ , _ -■ ■ - hzo. OLUME 70 LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING AUGUST 4 1869 NUMBER 31 ously; “you think that because a fellow knows how to take care of himself he’s got no more imaginationthanacodfish. but I’ve got as much as you anyhow.’ “My dear fellow,” replied I, “I’ll concede you the imagination of Shake speare if you like; only go on with your story, for I’m rather anxious to hear the denouement," “ Perhaps you won’t like it so much when you do hear it,” said Fred gloom ily- “but to continue. The man looked up in a quick suspicious way as I got in, exposing a part of his face for the first time. He was so coarsely dressed that I wondered how he came to travel first class at all; but in that moment I caught a glimpse of a face which never belonged to one of the bourgeoisie since the world bgean.,’ “ Miracle upon miracle!” exclaimed I. “ Can this be Fred Allfact, whose favorite maxim used to be that ODe man is as good as another?” “ Ah, you may laugh,” responded my friend; “but wait till I get to the end of my story, and then laugh if you can. Wei 1, presently the officer and the lady got in again, and we resumed our con versation. X don’t know how it was, but somehow our talk turned upon murders, and one horrible story suc ceeded another, till at last I got quite sick of it, and said, rather excitedly, “There is one thing to comfort one over all these horrors,—that the villains who cause them are certain to be found out and punished.’ “I had scarcely uttered the words wbeu a low, chuckling laugh came from under the wrappings of the unknown, which made me start as if I had been stung. There was something in the sound so positively infernal that I really felt as if it had been the deyil himself. But before I could speak the stranger joiued in the conversation for the first time. “ ‘ Monsieur Is of the opinion, then,’ said he, in the most perfect, French, ‘ that it is impossible to commit a mur der without being detected?’ ‘“Just so,’replied I, rather curtly, for there was a latent sarcasm in his tone which made me think he was laugh ing at me’, though I could not tell how nor why. “ ‘ Then I fear I must take the liber ty of differing from Monsieur on that point,’ returned he, in a smooth, slip pery kiud of voice, that gave me the same feeling one has in looking at a snake. ‘I proved fruitless, and where the murderer is probably at large still.’ “ ‘ Were these cases of which you speak in Russia?’ asked I. “ ‘ln Russia and elsewhere,’ he rejoin ed. ‘But it strikes me that even in F.ugland murderers are not always brought to justice. I havesomeremem brnnee of a story, called the “Waterloo Bridge Murder,” which seemed to eml in nothing. Messieurs de la Police are very clever, butthey arenotomniscient.’ “•They’re cleverer than people think them, perhaps,’ said I, rather sharply, for I already feltanuuaccountableaver sioti to the man, although I had hardly spoken with him for two minutes. “‘Perhaps,’ he returned, with asliglit sneer; ‘but for all that I would not mind laying a wager that you mightsit opposite to a murderer, aud talk with him —ay, just after the deed was done — without finding him out.’ “He pronounced the last words iu a tone almost of triumph, which made me tingle from head to foot. Had I followed my impulse at that moment, I should have collared him and cried out, Seize this man ! he’s a murderer. ‘And you’d have been right, I sup pose,” interrupted I, beginning to feel interested. “ VTou’ll find out about thatlaler ou,” returned Fred, “who never likes to be hurried in a story. “I saw that my two companions had their suspicions of him likewise, and no wonder ; for to hear a man dressed like a porter talking pure French, and expressing himself as this fellow had done, was enough to set any one a thinking. Whether they had au idea of anytbfug wrong, or merely took him for some young swell out on a frolic, I can’t say; but just as I was going to hint my suspicions to them, the train stopped at VolkhofT, and my two friends got out Jto eat as before. After they were gone the stranger got out too, saying to me, very politely, fWill you kindly see that no one takes my place while I get some dinner?’ Of course I agreed, and away he went. You’d hard ly believe that evenl, unimaginative as you call me, felt a sort of horror at be ing left alone there, just as if some evil presence were with me in the carriage; though (excepting our baggage and the stranger’s bundle) there was nothing there but myself. Aud . the feeling gained so upon me that at last I got out aud stood by the door. “ My two companions were soon back again, but when the train started the stranger was still missing. I noticed ‘this to the officer, who replied that he had probably got into another carriage by mistake, and that we should see him at the next station. However, he didn’t appear, aud as station after station pass ed without any sign of him, we at last called the guard (I forget what station it was) and told him the whole story. The guard laughed and said something in Russ, and then got out; when the officer turned to me and said, ‘He tells me that his man is probably a rogue who has left his package on purpose, in tending by aud by to claim some one elae’s luggage instead of his own ; and so, to make all safe, he means to open the bundle at once, and we are to go with him and see it done.’ So we all went into the guard-room, and the man undid tiie bundle, which seemed to con tain nothihg but a fine velvet cloak lightly rolled up. He uurolled it, and instantly jumped back with a loud ‘Ach!’ as if he had trodden upon aßer pent; aud no wonder, for when I step ped forward to look, what should I see but a woman’s head'!” “ A woman’s head!” echoed I incred- ulously. “ Pooh !It must have been a wax model, or the head of a lay figure.” " Not a bit; It was a real head, if ever I saw one, aud not very long cut oil’, either. The face was the most beauti- ful I ever saw, looking quite like ivory upon the bladk velvet, aud not the least distorted ; she must have been killed Bleeping. There wus a jewelled tiara in the hair, as if for a ball; but the strangest thing was a small piece of paper fixed on the forehead, inscribed, •The jewels for Moscow; the head for Rt. Petersburg.’ ” “ What did that mean ?” asked I. "I can’t imagine, but the man who wrote it was most likely half mad at the time.- Well, you may fancy what a to-do thero was; the news soon got abroad, aud a whole crowd came flock ing in, and we had to tell all we knew, and to leave our addresses. In case our ovldouce should be required. Alto gether It wus nearly an hour before we got off, and that’s why I arrived so late. What da you think of that now 7” " It’s a frlghtfu I ’story, certainly,” said I; “but there mus. esome explanation shortly. The murder must have been done in Ht. Petersburg, aud will soon bo known thero. Let us see what to-day’s paper Buys when It arrives. Itoughtto be in to-morrow.” The next day Fred pounced upon the first attainable copy of the Petersbury News, and hastily casting his eye .over it, exclaimed, suddenly, "This must be it. Listen l” Shocking and Mysterious Occurence. —The whoiocapital has just beon thrown into consternation by one of those atro cious muders which from time to time seem to recall tho crimes of the Dark Ages. The victim, as all will grieve to learn, is the well known and charmlDg Princess Hedzoff.’ ” ‘ ‘ ‘ft appears that yesterday morning the Princess’s maid, on taking a cup of chocolate to her mistress (who graced a ball with her presence the evening be fore), was horrified to find the latter stretched lifeless on the floor bathed in blood. Frightful to relate, the head had been completely severed from the body and was nowhere to be found. We re gret to add that there is reason to fear that this appalling bereavement has driven to self-destruction the unfortu nate Prince, her husband, who has not been heard of since the night of the murder.’ ” "Very neatly smoothed over, that last bit,” remarked Fred, significantly. "But it’s not to Be//-destruction that he has been driven anyhow. Well! who would believe this, I wonder, if they were to see it in a book?” "L’mposssble est toujours vrai, you know,” observed I. "It seems there are white Othellos as well as blafck. Well done the nineteenth century 1 Let us go and get a mouthful of fresh air.” And out we went accordingly. General Canby has ordered the payment at onoa of 1 per cent, of the January inter est on the debt of Virginia, The Gjpsj’s Prophecy. BY AMY RANDOLPH. “ A gipsy encampment, as I live I ” Philip Trevanion paused suddenly as he came round die bend in the forest road. Miss Westerly, his pretty cqpapanion, uttered a Blight shriek, and clung closer to his arm. " Oh, let us go away—l am afraid of these wild looking people! ” “ Afraid, pretty lady ? No one would harm a hair of your golden head! ” croaked a bent old beldame, hobbling suddenly forward from behind a clump of hazel bushes, and holding out one yellow and withered claw. Philip, understanding the situation, tossed a gold piece, to the withered old hag. "Give her the beet fortune you can afford for that! ” he said, laughingly, and Miriam held out her little roseleaf palm, prettily expectant. "There's a long life before you, but not a happy one," croaked the daughter of Egypt, as she studed the delicate lines. "You’ll be married within the year.” “ Tell me what my future husband will belike? ” hazarded Miss Westerly, with a side glance at Mr. Trevanion’s dark, handsome face. "He will be old and white-haired; but there’s the shine of yellow gold about him. andyou’llberich, my bonny lady, you'll be rich! ” Miriam jerked away her hand. . "Nonsense!” she said, shortly.— " Come, Mr. Trevanion, we are rightly served for listening even for one instant to such a string of superstitious absurdi ties.” “And you, young man”—the Del dame turned to Trevanion—"your book of life has two volumes —the second is brighter than the first! Now go, your fortune is told ! ” Philip Trevanion looked annoyed too, but in the same instant his eyes fell on a slender little girl who had been lean ing against the trunk of a tree—a child of thirteen or fourteen, whose magnifi cent black orbs were curiously eyeing them. "Did youeverseeßuchalovely face?” he asked, enthusiastically. "She might sit as a model for Esther the Jewess! ” "Lolet us get away,” Miriam said, petulantly, and they walked in silence for 66X£iar] minutes. At length the girl looked upinhercompanion’s face, her golden hair falling back on her shoulders in luxuriant burnished ripples. " Mr. Trevanion, surely you attach no importance to that old sibyl's chatter!” " If I did, Miriam, I should be miser able.” "Why?” " Because I love you so dearly that I could not for one instant endure to think of you as the brideof another.” Miriam Westerly’s eyes sparkled. " Philip- you love me ! ” "As my ownlife. Andyou,Miriam?” Her shy, bright glance answered him —and if ever two lovers walked home on enchanted ground, illumined by the glow of an Arcadian sunset, those two lovers were Philip Trevanion and the gold-haired Miriam. "You will just have time to answer your mother’s questions and dress for tea,” Philip said, playfully, as they crossed the threshold of the quiet coun try hotel where they were staying. "It must be seven o’clock! ” Five years Is not a very great space of time, yet it had aged Pbilp Trevanion more than a little. Had you stood in the salon of that elegant Parisian hotel, you would scarcely have known the ardent young lover of other days in the tall, reserved man whose lips had such an ironfirmness, and whoseeyesseemed to scintilate a mocking mirth. "You are going bourn in the Saint d’Or, monsieur?” A misk little dark man accosted him. "You have fully made up your mind ?” " I have, M. d’Antin.” "Then if you would take charge of my niece, it would be an incalculable favor. Her aunt,-Mrs. Devereux, will meet her in New York, and—” " I shall be very happy, monsieur.”. The little dark man wasfull of thanks and ecstatic gratitude, but Mr. Trevan ion scarcely listened to them. He was thinking how different would be his return home from what he had once fondly fancied. • * How little we can foresee what lies before us!” he thought. " I suppose I shall see Miriam again—how that fancy would have set my heart beating once ! —but she will not be the same Miriam. The widow of old Hugh Rochefort is very fascinating, they say ; but my Mi riam died, and was buried to me, the night she wore her bridal wreath. Ah, well-a.day! I wonder if she ever re membered the gypsy’s prophecy, when her white-haired husband stood at her side! It has come oddly true.” He laughed bitterly. Philip Treva nion could not quite forgive Mariam Westerly for jilting him in favor of the rich old West India merchant. M. d’Antin’s niece was on board of the Sainte d' Or the next day, when Mr. Trevanion ascended the gallant steam er's deck. He was prepared to meet a shy, freckled school-girl; consequently he was taken a little by surprise when the old Frenchman led him up to a tall, magnificent looking woman, not far from twenty, with velvety black eyes, ‘creamy skin, and lips rich in scarlet bloom, whose costly cashmere shawl trailed from her shoulders as a queen might have worn her royal robes. "Mademoiselle,” began our hero, il je Buis Ires heureux —” " Pardon me,” the young lady inter rupted, with a smile half languid, half amused; lam of English birth, and prefer the English language.” " But, Miss d’Antin—” " Pardon me once more. My name is Genevieve Dale. The fact that my aunt married M. d’Antin does not de prive me of a name and heritage of my own.” "The deuce it doesn’t,” thought Mr. Trevanlon. "But there’s something very enchanting about the dark beauty, after all, though my mind misgives me she Is something of a termagant. On the whole, I think I shall like my traveling companion.” Trevanion’s surmise was correct; so much so, in fact, that when the Saintc cl’Or moored herself under the glitter ing spires of New York, he was des perately in love with Miss Dale. Other passengers grumbled at the length of the passage; To Philip Travauiou, it seemed lijke a brief, beautiful dream. "And when may I come to Bee you again?” he asked, when he had taken her to Mrs. Devereux’s elegant drawing rooms, and the aunt had received her with true maternal tenderness. "I shall receive some friends in honor of Genevieve’s sale arrival, on Thursday of next week,” said Mrs. Devereux. "Wo shall be delighted to see you then.” Ho glanced up at Oencvlovo’s velvet dark eyes; the velvet dark eyes an swered plainly, "Come.” and Mr. Travanlon went away with heart as light as any feather. " I suppose I must go andlsee Miriam,” he thought, as his eye fell on the card of " Mrs. Hugh Rochefort” lying in a prominent place on his centre-table, but there was no particular ordor in the aooentof his voice. Mrs Hugh Roohefort was sitting in a boudoir, whose pink walls and pink draperies were infinitely becoming to her brilliant complexion and fiaxen hair. She was very pretty still, with the fair dimpled prettiness of a magnifi ed wax doll, and the diamonds that sparkled on her neck, arms, and bosom, Bet off her bloom as dew drops set off a garden of roaes. She started up, graceful and eager, as Mr. Trevanlon was announced : "Philip.” "lam very happy to Bee you, Mrs. Rochefort.” Miriam’B heart sank within her at the cool metallic ring of his voice. Was it possible that he had ceased to love her? And she—how she looked forward to the hour when, "freed from the yoke of a hateful, though ambitious marriage, she might say to him, “ Philip, I love you still,” They chatted on different subjects ; the visit was stiff and formal, ana Philip soon took his leave; while Mi riam, sitting with hands bo tightly olenched that the nails cut into her delicate fießh, muttered between her teeth: " I will make him love me yet! Sure ly the old spell is not all exorcised? He mwsf love me, orl shall die!” So when Mrs. Rochefort heard that Mr. Trevanlon was to be at the Deve reux reception, she resolved to make one last effort to relight the smoulder ing spark that had burned so brightly in the langsyne. Miriam Rochefort looked radiant that night in her floating draperies of bine gauze, starred with silver, and the coßtly turquoises which gemmed her slender throat; but her beauty paled as the moon pales before the vivid incarnadine of a July sunrise, when Genevieve Dale came into the room. . Miss Dale, dressed in lemon-colored silk, with yellow Jessamine in her mag nificent blae-black hair, looked like a Sultana—an oriental queen. Her cheeks glowed with the vividest carmine, her eyes sparkled like dusk stars, and Miriam’s heart ached to see how Philip Travanion hung enraptured ou her every glance ana smile. “You have passed a pleasant even ing,” she said, bitterly, when he bowed her a good-night. "The pleasantest inmylife,” he said, enthusiastically. "Congratulate me, Mrs. Rochefort, J have this evening be come engaged to Genevieve Dale!” Was; it tthe heat, or the fatigue of waltzing, that suddenly blanched the lovely widow’s cheek? Miriam Rochefort never closed her eyes all that night, and when morning dawned she looked as if she had been ill for months of some weary, wasting disease. When the heart is sick, all the springs of life wax low. Genevieve Dale was sitting on a low velvet cushion at her aunt’s feet the next morning, when Philip Trevanion called. Mrs.. Devereux welcomed her niece’s lover with a smile. " I am glad you have come, Mr. Tre vanion,” she said, smoothing down the bright brunette’s lustrous hair. "Gan evieve wants me to tell you one or two things before she can consider this en gagement as finally settled.” " Indeed! what are they ? ” " That she has not always lived a life of luxury. Her mother, a wild romantic girl of sixteen, committed what the world calls a mesalliance— she married a handsome adventurer who died in great poverty, leaying herself and her babe in the companionship of a band of strolling gipsies, who had shown the sick man great kindness. And when, shortly afterwards, my sister died, these same strollers, instead of fulfilling her last desire, that the little child should be given to Madame d’Antin and my self, adopted her, and—” " Aud,” interrupted Mr. Trevanion. across whose brain a sudden light had flashed—" and Genevieve is the same black-eyed sprite whom I saw with the gipsies five years ago?” The deep crimson overflowed Gen evieve Dale’s face as Philip took both hands and glanced archly into her eyes. "She is. It was not until the follow ing year that the old creature who had specially protected her died, and she was restored to us.” "And why do yqu tell me this?” " Because Genevieve fancies it might nake some difference in your views for ho future, if—” " Genveieve!” "Oh, Philip,” she faltered, throwing both arms round his neck, "pardon me ! I did not really believe it.” And Aunt Devereux—considerate old soul —took her crochet work and went up stairs, so that Philip and Genevieve might stand all alone in their fairy world of happiness. You see she had been young once herself. And Philip Trevanion’s second love was far brighter and deeper than his first! The gypsy’s prophecy had come true! —N. Y. Ledger. The Bewitched Clock, About half-past eleven o’clock on Sunday night, a human leg, enveloped in blue broad clotb, might have been seen entering Cephas Barberry’s kitch en window. The leg was followed final ly by the entire person of a lively Yan kee, attired in his Sunday go-to-meetin’ clothes. It was, in short, Joe Mayweed, who thus burglariously, in the dead of night, won his way into the deacon’s kitchen. " Wonder how much the old deacon made by orderin’ me not to darken his door again?” soliloquised the young man. " Promised him I would’nt, but did’nt say nothin’ about winders. Win ders is just as good as doors, if there ain’t no nails to tear your onto. Wonder if Sail’ll come down? The critter promised me. I’m afraid to move here, ’cause I might break my shins oyer sumthin’ or other, and wake the old folks. Cold enough to freeze a polar bear here. Oh, here comes Sally!” The beautiful maiden descended with a pleasant smile, a tallow candle, and a box of matches. After receiving a rap turous greeting, she made up a roaring fire in the cooking stove, ana the happy couple sat down to enjoy the sweet in terchange of views and hopes. But the course of true love ran no smoother in old Barberry’s kitchen than it did else where, and Joe, who was making up his mind to treat himself to a kiss, was startled by the voice of the deacon, her father, shouting from her chamber door " Sally, what are you getting up in the middle of the night for? ” " Tell him it’s most morning,” whis pered Joe. " I can’t tell a fib,” said Sally. " I’ll make it a truth, then,” said Joe, and running to the huge old-fashioned clock that stood in the corner, he set it at five. " Look at the clock and tell me what time it is,” cried the old gentleman up stairs. "It’s five by the clock,” answered Sally, and corroborating the words, the clock struck five. The lovers sat down again and re sumed theconversatlon. Suddenly the staircase began to creak. " Good gracious! It’s father!” " The deacon, by thunder!” cried Joe. "Hide me, Sal!” "Where can I hide you?” cried the distracted girl. "Oh, I know,” said he, "I’ll squeeze Into the clock-case,” And without another word, he con cealed himself in the case and drew the door behind him. The deacon was dressed, and sitting himself down by the cooking stove, pulled out his pipe, and lighted it, and commenced smoking very deliberately and calmly. "Five o’clock, eh ?” Bald he. "Well, I Bhall have time to smoke three or four pipes, then I’ll go and feed tho crit ters.” “Hadn't you better go and feed the critters firßt, sir, nnd emoke after- wards,” suggested the dutiful Bally. “No, smokin’ clears my head and wakeß me up,” answered the deacon, who seemed not a whit disposed to hurry his enjoyment. Bur-r-r-r—whiz z—ding—ding ! went the clock. “Tormented lightning!” cried the deacon, starting upland dropping his pipe upon the stove. “What In crea tion’s that?” “It's only the clock striking five,” said Bally tremulously. Whizl ding! ding! diDg! went the old clock furiously. "Powers of mercy!” cried the dea con. " Striking five ! It’s Btruk a hun dred already.” "Deacon Barberry l” cried the dea con’s better half, who hadhastily robed herself, and now came plunging down the staircase in the wildest Btate of alarm. " What is the matter with the clock ?” " Goodness only knows,” replied the old man. "It’s been in the family these hundred years and never did I know it to carry on so before.” Whiz! bang! bang! bang! went the clock. " It’ll burst itself!” cried the old lady, shedding a flood of tears, !* and there won’t be nothing left of it.” “It’s bewitching,” said the deacon, who retained a leaven of New England superstition in his nature. "Anyhow,” he said, after a pause, advancing reso lutely toward the clock, " I’ll see what’s got into it!” “Oh, don’t,” cried the daughter, af fectionately seizing one of his coat tails, while his faithful wife clung to the oth er. " Don’t,” chorused both the women together. "Let go my raiment!” shouted the deacon, "I ain’t afraid of the powers of darkness.” But the women would not let go, so the deacon Bllpped off his coat and while, from the sudden cessation of re sistance, they fell he&vily on the floor,he darted forward and laid his hand on the door of the clock-case. But no human fiower could open it. Joe was holding t inside with a death grasp. The dea con began to be dreadfully frightened. He gave one more tug. An unearthly yell as of a fiend in distress came from the Inside, and then the clock case pitched headforemost. on the floor, < smashed its face and wrecked its pro portions. The current of air extinguished the light—the deacon, theold lady and Sally fled upstairs, and Joe Mayweed, extri cating himself from the clock, effected his retreat in the same way that he en tered. The next day all Appletown was alive with the story of how Deacon Bar berry’s clock had been bewitched; and though many believed its version, some, and especially Joe Mayweed, affected to discredit the whole affair, hinting that the deacon had been trying the experi ment of tasting frozen cider, and that the vagaries of the clock case existed only in his distempered imagination. Bninlnsa Banker. In the troubled days of Ireland, to wards the close of the last century, a daring fellow, one Teddy Mulrooney, was at the head of a band of his despe rate and starving countrymen, who scoured the district in which they be longed, waging merciless war on the oppressors of their country, and visiting with the direst outrages those who had the reputation of grinding the faces of the poor. One of the most obnoxious men in the county where their operations were conducted, was one Sir Lawrence Wood, a rich man who had a bank of his own, ihnd was supposed to have amassed an Immense fortune by his financial spec ulations. In the course of their preda tory career, Mulrooney’s band seized, at various points, a large amount of Sir some thirty thousand pounds worth, all of which they placed in the hands of their leader to dispose of as his wisdom thought best. One dark night, a shout like thatof a thousand demons announced to Sir Lawrence that the rebels had broken. into the park that surrounded his ele gant country seat, while, at the same time, a glare of light gave him to un derstand that the incendiary torch had been applied to his .dwelling. He was mistaken in that, however, for when he had hurried on his clothes and present ed himself at the hall door to beg that the lives of himself and family might be spared, be saw that the invaders had merely kindled a fire of brush-wood on the lawn. But the spectacle was alarm ing enough, as the light fell on a wild group of fierce men, ragged and yet armed with every species of Btrange weapon—pikes, pistols, reaping-hooks and scythes. "For heaven’s sake,” said the terri fied banker, " spare my life! ” "Whist! ye murtherin’ thafe of the world! ” said Teddy. “ It’s not yer life we’re afther desthroyin—but it’s what ye live for we’il desthroy before yer eyes, yeomadhoun. Look there, yeould divil! and there! and there! what’s thim?” AndTeddythrustanimmense heap of bank notes under the nose and eyes of the banker, and then, elevating bis torch, took Sir Lawrence by the nape of his neck, and bent his head forward so that he could read the paper. "They’re notes on my bank,” said he. "Do you want to present them? ” "To make yer a prisint of them?” cried the rebel. "Do ye think we’re afther making fools of ourselves, whin we've had the trouble of collectin’ yer dirthy paper? Na, ye spalpeen ! \\Vll desthroy ivery scrap of 'em up before the eyes of yez.” "For Heaven’s sake, gentlemen,” said the banker, secretly delighted at the intelligence; "you wouldn’t beggar myself and family!” "In course we wouldn'tl” said Mul rooney, ironically. “No, we come here to fill your pockets av course. Look here, there goes a thousand pounds!” And he threw a handful of notes into llie "Ana cncro’B auoium i Ovii, there’s lashin’s of ’em ! And there goes the last; and now ye’re as poor a 3 the poorest man among us.” The banker affected to be in the great est agony ; he tore his hair, wrung his hands beat his breast, groaned and even pumped up a few tears. Teddy watched him with ferocious satisfac tion, and when tho sacrifice was com pleted, exclaimed: " There, boys; we’ve ruined him, in tirely. And now, ye ould thafe of the woruld, go to bed and say yer prayers, and plisint drames to yez.” With a cheer, the midnight maraud ers, after dancing round the expiring bonfire, retired in high glee, completely satisfied with their exploit in " ruining a banker.” Sir Lawrence Wood wait ed until the last man had disappeared, then he burst into a horse-laugh and went up to bed, in the happy conscious ness of being thirty thousand pounds richer than he was five minute 9 before. We know not whether Mr: Mulrooney ever discovered his mistake, but the banker had provided againßt such a contingency and his consequent ven geance, by securing the presence of a strong detachment of troops till the troubles of the day were over. Life in an African Village. Grant, the traveler, gives us this pic ture of village life: Moossah, an Indian in whosehouse wo resided, was a fine benevolent old man. with an establishment of three hundred native men and women around him. His abode had, three years ago, taken two months to build, and it was sur rounded by a circular wall which en closed his houses, fruit and vegetable gardens, and his stock of cattle. The ady who presided over the whole was of mostportlydimenslons.andher word was law. Moossah sat from morn till night with his ‘fonde,’ or chief mana ger, and other head servants within sight, receiving salutes and compli ments from the rich and poor at the front or gentleman’s side of the house, while the lady presided over the domestic arrangements of the interior. We had full access to both, and no house could be couducted with greaterregular ity. At three o'clock in the morning, Moossah. who had led a hard life in his day would call out for his little pill of opium, which he never missed for forty years. This brightened him up till noon. He would then transact business, chat, and give you gossip at any hour you sat by him on his carpet. To us it seemed strange that he never stopped when prayers from the Koran were beiug read to him by a ‘ Bookeen,' or Madagascar man. Perhaps he had little respect for the officiating priest, as the same rever end and learned gentleman was accus tomed to make him his shirts! After a midday sleep, ho would refresh himself with a second but larger pill, transact business, and so end the day. The harem department presented u more domestic scene. At dawn, women in robes of colored chintz, their hair neatly plaited, gave freßh milk to the swarm of black cats, or churned butter in gourds bv rocking it to and fro on their laps. By seven o’clock the whole place was swept clean. Some of the household fed the game fowlß, or looked after the ducks and pigeons; two women chained by the neok fetched firewood, or ground corn at aßtone: children would eat together without dispute, because a matron pre sided over them. All were quiet, in dustrious beings, never Idle, and as happy as tho day was long. When a a child misbehaved, we white men were Eointed at to frighten it, as nurses at a ome too often ao with ghost stories, A Church of Bags. There is such a church actually ex* isting near Bergen, Prussia, which oan contain one thousand persons. It is ciroular within, octagonal without. The relieves outside, and the Btatues within, the roof, the ceiling, the Corinthian capitals, are all of papier-mache, ren dered water-proof by saturation in vitriol, lime-water, whey, and white of eggs. We have not yet reaohed this audacity in our use of paper; but it Bhould hardly surprise üb, inasmuch as we employ the same material in private houses, In steamboats, and in some pub lic buildings, instead of carved decora tions and plaster cornices. When Fred erick 11. of Prussia set up a limited papier-mache factory at Berlin, in 1705, he little thought that paper cathedrals might, withla a century, spring out of his snuff-boxes by the sleight of handof art. Atpresentweold-fashioned people, who haunt cathedrals andhulld churches, like etone better. Bufcthere 1b no saying what we may come to. It is" not very long since it would have been as impossible to cover eighteen acres with glass as to erect a pagoda with soap bubbles, yet the thing was done. When we think of a psalm sung by one thou sand voices pealing through an edifice made of rags, and the universal element bound down to carry our messages with the speed of light, U would be presump tuous to say what cannot be achieved by science and art under the training of steady old time. Deputy Sheriff Grigg.wbo was wounded in the Anti-Rent trouble, in Rennsselaer county, N. Y,, is still alive, but his recovery is doubtful. Silk Culture m California. A correspondent of the N. Y. Tribune gives the following eketch of silk cuW ture In California: i Silk culture, or rather the production of eggs, is further advanced. A few evenings ago I rode out to see a speci men of it. My companion was James. M’Clatcby, one of the proprietors of The Sacramento Bee. Who knows but he may yet see his journal re-named The Sacramento Silk-worm, and printed up on paper made of mulberry leaves, or, better still, of silk, after the Chinese method? He came to California in’49. His vessel was wrecked on the lower coast, and he walked 400 miles, bare footed, up to Ban Jose. He began jour nalism as a carrier on The San Francisco Transcript , which was edited by Fitch, now an owner of The Bulletin. and Me- Ewer, who afterwards abandoned the sanctum for the sanctuary, and who now disturbs us with the query, "Is Protestantism a failure?” In journal ism he was not one of those uncomforta ble men who, as Hans Christian Ander sen says, ask questions and never dream. Three miles from Sacramento we reached the residence of Capt. W. M. Haynie—a low dark frame house, hid den in luxuriant foliage which is fra grant with June roses and oleander blossoms. Hitherto silk-worm eggs have come from the East. Italy alone is said to buy $5,000,000 worth annually from Japan. Last year California be gan to export eggs to Italy and France. They were sold at $4 per ounce for the sake of introducing them into foreign markets;"hut so many people are going into the business that before the season was over they commanded $lO at home. It is claimed that the eggs of California are the healthiest and best in the world, and that no other climate is so favora ble to their production, except that of some the interior districts of India, where the worms hatch and make silk without man’s supervision. Haynie’s young mulberry trees cover 13 acres. Every winter he crops the stems until they are only three or four feet high, that the spreading branches may be reached in feeding season with out a ladder. The leaves are ready for the worms by the middle of April aud continue good until late in November. Capital in California has demanded such quick and large returns, and the memory of the disastrous morus multi cauUs fever which swept the Union thirty years ago has been so fresh, that few have undertaken Silk culture until within the lasttwo years. Now, Haynie estimates that a hundred farmers in the State are engaged in it, and four millons'of mulberry trees growing. An acre of trees, he thinks, with three care ful men to attend to them and to the worms, should produce 500 dozen of eggs in a season. Chinamen require instruc tion, as those who come here are chiefly of the lowest classes, from the coast, many of whom have spent their lives in boats, and know little of the skilled industries of their own country. The Japanese immigrants (few, thus far) have been familiar with silk culture at home. Haynie’s cocoonery, a wooden build ing 70 feet by 50, is full of frames sup porting broad shelves, which are only a few inches apart and are completely covered with silk-worms in various stages. There are now 400,000; in Au<* gust it is expected that the building will contain 1,000 000. They have be come so far Americanized that they live upon newspapers—which overspread all the shelves. A uniform temperature of about SO 0 them. Some twice,and some only once; and Haynie, in his experimenting, has produced several hybrid varieties which make beautiful cocoons. According to the authorities it takes nearly 700,000 newly hatched worms to weigh a pound avordupois. Those here only one or two days old are brown, : and about one-twentieth of an inch long. For them, the tenderest leaves are cut up to present as many edges as possible, and they do not eat the stems or fibers. The largest worms—thirty days old and nearly white—are more than three inches long. They devour fiber and all with rapacity. On a shelf completely covered with them Haynie laid a large bunch of fresh leaves. In a minute they were swarming over the leaves, and in five minutes they had consumed everything except the tough main stems. Under the miscroscope they look like antediluvian reptiles, with formidable horns aud frightful claws. The workmen handle them freely and lay theta upon the open palm to exhibit them. They will not leave the shelves unless they grow hungry; and all, young and old, are fed about eight times in twenty-four hours. At the venerable age of one month they are mature. Then, after a day or two of voluntary fasting, they suspend themselves among branches of willow rods, and from their snouts, just below the mouth, two little threads of silk as gossamer begin to protrude. At first these are liquid, but on striking the air they turn to fiber. The worm spins the two threads into one, and doubling his body into a coil begins to weave around him the silken prison which is to inclose him during his strange transfiguration. In three days the cocoon is complete, as large as a thimble, and rounded at both ends. It may be white, straw-colored, buff, orange, amber, canary, or of almost any other cheerful hue. It contains about 400 yards of silk fi her, so fine that the eye can hardly detect it and a baby’s hair is coarse beside it. If the object be to produce spool-silk, the cocoon is now kept in the sun for oneday, and thatkills the worm within. But if only eggs are coveted, the cocoon is left uutouchcd, and in eight days the worm is a chrysalis, incased in a little shell inside his prison. In three or four weeks he is ready to “tunnel” out of his ceil—a favorite method of escape for captives. "With the only old feature he retains—his sharp snout—he digs out, cutting the fiber so that it will no longer make thread, but only fiosß Bilk. He emerges In full glory, a snow-white moth or miller. Two cocoons, which Haynie gave me as curiosities, I hap* pened to place on my tablo at the Sac* ramento Hotel. The next day the ghoßtly moths had come out, anu were laying eggs upon my letters and news papers. A male and a female miller are left together for two or three .days. Next the female fastens herself upon a piece of paper and deposits some '250 eggs, white, as large as pin beads, and lying upon the paper as close together as pav lng*stones. Then the moths both die'. Their little life seems like a satire upon ours. What is it Owen Meredith says of the midge disappointed in love ? His friends would console him ; life yet Is bo* fore him; Mnny hundred longßOCondshe sllll banlo live; In the Htate yeta mighty career spread* before him; Let him seek In the great world of action to strive! In two or three days the eggs turn to a bluish color, and then they are ripe for hatching when the proper season comes. Rain and lightning are the great enemleß of sllk-wormß. Raiu, soaking the mulberry -leaf makes it poisonous for them, and a single thun der-shower may paralyze and kill every worm in a large cocoonery in ten min utes. But in California Summer is rainless and thunder and lightning are unknown exoept among the mountains. This hew industry is so nice and deli cate that it may taae several years to master its details; but it bids fair to ex* pand Into vast proportions. Besides, supplying the European market with eggs I see no reason why California should not ultimately manufacture silk for the entire country. The duty on imported silks is 60 per cent, affording room for a fascinating profit. Here the machinery can easily be made, the worm and the mulberry thrive, and Bkllled Oriental labor is obtainable in limitless quantities. Even if we im* port the raw silk (upon whioh there is no duty), cheap labor and nearness to China and Japan will give the factories of California great advantages over those of New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut. Explosion ofJFlrewoms and Lois of Life New Yobk, July 28. —A terrible accident occurred here in front of French’s Hotel, opposite City Hall. The J. Murphy Chow der Club returning with a wagon full of fireworks, and setting them off as they went along, a misdirected rocket fired the mass. A large number were severely burned, two boys dangerously; one MichaelMcC&hoey. or Mulcabey, twelve years old, is despaired of; another, Thomas Maher, Is in a danger ous condition. William Bradigau and John Hogan, a policeman, were so badly injured that they were taken to the City Hospital. Four ice houses of the Washington Ice Company, at Rondout, N. Y., were yeater •day destroyed by fire. The disaster was caused by lightning. A Terrible Domestic Tragedy In Georgia. A Wife Protected From Dishonor by a Faithful Dos. From the Angnsta (Ga.) Chronicle, July 25, On yesterday we came Into possession of the particulars of a most singular and fearful tragedy, which recently occurred in one of the mountain counties of this State. The gentleman from whom we received the information has requested us to give neither the name of the county in which the horrible scene took place nor the names of tha actors in it; in the first place, because the families of the parties are among the Wst and most re spectable in the county and should not be subjected to this additional mortifi cation for an act which they can in no manner be held responsible, and, in the second place, because publicity would now in no way subserve the end of justice, as the guilty party has already expiated his crime by so fearful a pun ishment. We will only preface our ac count of the matter by stating that our information was derived from a well known anh highly esteemed gentleman of this city, and may be safely relied upon as perfectly correct in every partic ular. In one of the mountain counties of Georgia there live two families, each before the war noted for its wealth and refinement. Since the war the families (whom we shall call respectivelyß. and L.) though they had, like nearly every one else, losteverythiugby theconflict, still retained the high position in soci ety which they had for so long a time held. One of them, the L.’s, lost sev eral of its members, as well as its for tune, by the war, and at the commence ment of our story consisted of Mr. L., a gentleman fifty-five years of age, his wife, nearly the same age, and an un married daughter of about twenty-five. Within aquarterof amileof their house lived one of the R.’s, s young man who had recently married a very beautiful young lady of the country, and having left the paternal mansion was farming by himself on a small tract of ground. The two families lived some distance from the county town, in a sparsely inhabited section of county, and being each the nearest neighbor of the other, were of course on terms of great Inti macy. Between the youDg wife and the daughter of Mr. L. a fast friendship was soon formed, both being nearly the same age and of similar tastes and dis positions, and relying upon each other for company in the daily absence of the two gentlemen, who were engaged in superintending the business of their farms. A few dayssince Mr. R. informed his wife that he had received a letter, which would compel immediate attendance in Atlanta, where he would have to remain for several days, as it would be incon venient for him to take her with him to that city, advised that she should ask her young neighbor to stay with her during his absence. The next morning he set out in his buggy for Atlanta, and his wife during the morning went over to L’s house for the purpose of inviting her young friend to stay with her. — When she arrived there she told the. young lady of the absence of her hus band, representing how lonely she would find her house pt night from the fact that she employed no house ser vant, and her cook, together with the few laborers employed on the farm, slept at the "negro quarter,” nearly half a mile from the dwelling house, and ended by asking Miss L. to spend the nights with her until her husband returned. The young lady, after con .nUoHftn w«fW rnnther. readily as sented to the proposition ana promised to come over during the afternoon.— HaviDg accomplished her purposes and feeling very much relieved in mind Mrs. R. returned home and spent the day, performing the usual household duties. When the morning had passed away and the afternoon came and then the sun set without bringing her friend she felt no alarm, but thought that the latter had decided not to come till after tea, when her father, across the field, which separated the two houses, would escort her. Ac cordingly the evening meal was eaten, household affairs arranged and the cook dismissed for the night to her distant cabin at the " quarter.” About nine o’clock Mrs. R. began to feel a little un easy, as Miss L. hadnotyetcome, when a servant came up to the house and broughta note from her expected friend, stating that she would be unable to spend the night with her, as she had promised, for her father, from some cause or other, had positively refused to give his consent to the arrangement. After delivering the note the servant took his departure, and the brave wo man prepared to spend the night by herself. Feeling that she had a pro tector in a large and very fierce yard dog belonging to her husband, she took him injo her bedroom, and, after secur ing the house, lay down and resigned herself to sleep. About li! o’clock sho was from her slumbers by a noise in the house and the angry growling of the dog, and discovered that the hall door had been forced and that some one was standing at her room door seeking an entrance. Speaking as loudly as her fright would let her Mrs. R. asked, "Who is there?” A man’s voice which sho did not recognize replied by telling her to "Open the door.” Again she asked the same question and again re ceived the same reply, the stranger add ing that if she refused he would "break the d—d door down.” During this dia logue the dog, still growling, crouched upon the floor as If ready to spring. Thinking to intimidate this man, who sought her ruin, Mrs. R. cried to him that if he forced the door she would shoot him. Laughing scornfully the ruffian threw his weight against the light door, burst it open and entered the room, when, quick as thought, the sav age dog sprang forward and fastened on his neck. The man, astonished at his sudden attack, attempted toklllthedog with a knife which he held in his hand, but unsuccessfully, and the powerful animal dragged him to theground, still retaining his hold upon his throat. Stunned at first by this unlooked-for deliverance, the woman, in a few sec onds, regained her presence of mind somewhat, ran screaming from the house, never stopping until she arrived at the place of the L’s. where her cries soon aroused the family. Her tale was rapidly told, and the servants were pre paring to go to the scene of danger, when suddenly Mr. L. was missed, ana bts wife, almost on the Instant, as if : struck by a sudden presentiment, screamed “Merciful Gou! It must be my husband!” With a cry of horror the party set forth, and ran os fast to the house of Mrs. It. as the latter had run away from It a few minutes before, Arrived there they found the man still on the floor and tne dog still grasping his throat. Beating hlmaway from his prey they found the suspicions of Mrs. L. but too correct; it was her husband ; but the teeth of the dog had done their work and ho was dead. It appears that he had returned to his homo at five o’clock on the previous evening, and hearing of the departure of B. and the Intention of his daughter to spend the night with the youDg wife, be positively refused to allow her to do so, assigning some frivolous cause for the refusal. That night he left home saying that he was going to set up all night with a sick neighbor who lived some miles distant. It Is supposed that he concealed himself in the woodß until midnight and then, influenced by un holy lust, forced an entrance into the house of B. to violate the pereon of the wife of the latter. When the case be came known the most Intense excite ment prevailed In the county, and had not Providence punished the criminal he would probably have been huDg to the nearest tree by theenraged populace. Laying in Coal. People who are laying In their stocks of coal for the winter should know that It Is not good for their pockets to Btore coal in large heaps and without protec tion from the weather. During the period of exposure the coal undergoes a process of slow combustion, taking up oxygen and giving off the volatile pro ducts of oxidation. In this decomposi tion, air and moisture play tbeprlnclpal part, and warmth is the condition pro moting it. The degree of heat deter mines the ’rapidity of the process. The heat developed may be sufficient to Ig nite the inflammable gases, as is not unfrequently shown by the spontaneous combustion of large heaps of coal.— Thus great deterioration-in the quality of ooal exposed to the weather, is con stantly going on. The most valuable combustible ingredients are lost, and the injurious ones—sulphur, oxygen and ash, relatively increased. Snug and sheltered coal bins are aid to econo my. That Girl. Through the four seasons that have passed, and several that have preceded them, the Girl of the Period has been discussed without a pause. Forgetting, probably, that she is still a girl, the writers of the day have singled her out as the subjectof their penniestdabs and their inkiest criticism. No sooner does she reach an age which permits her to purchase her own gowns (with her fath er’s money) and dress her own hair (with the barber’s assistance), than she meets a fusiladeof criticism and remark under which she must sink in shame and self reproach, or against which she must defend herself with brazen cheek and immodest confidence. Does she expand her skirts with hoops? The critic makes an arrow of every wire.— Does she retire within the limits of her own contour, and haDg herskirts out of the reach of mud and sewerage? Her observers at once appropriate her cast off redundancy to hang her up to the gaze of an unsympathizing public. If her bonnets are small, they are too small; if large, they are too large. If she wears her hair en waterfall, it is ridiculous ; if she lets it hang down her back cn nature, it isaffected. In a word she can neitherdress, nor act, nor walk, nor speak as she should, and she goes through the world an ill-sorted being, whose duty is as imperative as it is impossible, living a disjointed life, ouly, in all probability, to give rise to some breach of etiquette at her funeral. Is it not time to inquire into the nature of our present complexion ? May we not stop ou the threshold of an approach ing century and bestow a word of mild remonstrauce on those who would throw the wheels of Time off' the track ? Our first plea, then, would be, let this Girl alone. Why our American Girl should be in need of such incessant scaldiDg we cannot perceive. Surely shedescended from most worthy ancestors. In the East she finds her mother among those who dared the perils of the deep aud the unknown dangers of the forest to be amoDg the crew of tho Mayflower. In the Middle Statessheseeshergrand mother, neatly and plainly dressed, in culcating the harmonious doctrines of William Penn. In the South, her most noted ancestor, herself a descendant of the unknown races, won u husband by imperiling her life In his behalf beneath the war-club. And ia the West every bloody battle of the frontier is lighted uphy woman’s courage and woman’s devotion. True, these early days are lacking in much that is now deemed requisite. Had the mothers of the Mayflower possessed more of a voice in the management of af fairs. we would doubtless be spared the recital of that terrible epidemic of small-pox which has pitted so many pages of our early history. Had Poca hontas received a modern education, she might have saved her lover’s life by moving the previous question, and kept the memory of the day ever green and lively by an organized anniversary. Of this ancestry, however, deficient as it is in certain modern requirements, the Girl of the Period may well be proud. Why, then, may she not study the useful les sons of the past without being forced to cipher out the dubiouspresentiments of the future? The truth, plainly told, is that that Girl's greatest danger comes from her own ranks. Not that she is any less charming or useful because she dresses as she pleases; not that her hair by changing color or shape derogates from her intrinsic value; not that she be comes frivolous because her intuitive P«icepi)ou or ciio iitmuUfui leads her to to imitate the seasons, and place her graces in a more beautiful setting by adopting an occasional chaDge of foli age; but because her modern aunts and grandmas are teaching her lessons of masculine discipline which bid fair to eradicate tho delicacy her ancestors be queathed her. A poet has spoken of “A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command And yet a spirit—still and bright. With Bomcinlng of an ungel light.” If that Girl receives the instruction which is now forced upon her we must expect to see this "angel light” which has been so loDg appreciated, crammed into a ballot-box, or forever hidden in the deep pocket of a future manly cos tume. There are some of us not Lquite ready to give up that Girl. We nave read many pleasant things about her, have heard many beautiful songs sung in her favor, have believed that there was much in her nature necessary to the fulfilment of man's happiness. Yet present appearances seem to forbode that we may lose her. It is said that in death the last image on which the eye rests is indelibly pictured ou the retina. If so many of the feminine eyes of the period cast their last glances on a pair of pantaloons, and die carrying that representation to an other world, will it require a very active working of the Darwin ian principle to obliterate eutirely the gentler sex from among tho creatures of this globe? How shall we obtain an antidote? Happily, easily. By making our girls recognize tho fact that home duties are steps in the upward pathway of life, and that the Roman mother who looked upon her nursery as her casket was, by the intention of the Cre ator, a more perfect being than the Amazon who sought distinction from her quiver; by teaching her that wo* ; man’s voice, while often discordant in public halls and crowded auditoriums, never fails to chord with tho harmony of nature when heard in conflicts of a lowlier life, drying with a smile Uio tears of the unfortunate and directing messages of love to those who need her nursing. Our greatest possible favor at present, be we grandfathers or grand mothers, will be to let the Girls alone. —iV. Y. Tribune. A World on Fire, On the 12th of May, ISOO, a great con flagration, infinitely larger than that of London or Moscow was announced. To use the expression of a distinguished astronomer, a world was found to be on fire. A star, which till then had shone meekly and unobtrusively iu the Corona Borealis, suddenly blazed up into a lu minary of the second magnitude. Iu the course of three days from Its dis covery in this new character by Mr. Birmingham, at Taum, it had declined to the third or even fourth order of brillianoy. In twelve days, dating from its first apparition in the Irish heavenß, it had sunk to the eighth rank and it went on waning until the 20th of June, when It ceased to be discerni ble except through the medium of the telescope. Tbla was a remarkable, though certainly not an unprecedented proceeding on the part of a star; but one single circumstance in its be haviour was that, after the lapse of nearly two months, It began to blazo up again, though not with equal ardor, and, after maintaining Us glow for u fow weeks and passing through sundry phazes of color, it gradually paled its fires and returned to its former insigni ficance. Now many years have elapsed since this awful conflagration actually took Elace It would be presumptuous to guess; ut It must be remembered that news from the heavens, though carried by the fleetest of meSßongers, light, reach us long after the eveuthas transpired, and that the same celestial courier Is still dropping the tidings at each Htation it reaches In space, until it sinks exhausted by the length of its flight. Now when this object was examined, as it was promptly and eagerly by Professor Mil ler and Mr. Huggins, they found to their great wonder, that It yielded two spectraa —the one imposed upon the other, though obviously independent. There was the prismatic ribbon crossed by dark lines, which belongs to the sun and stars generally but there was an other in which fourbrightlines llgured; and these, according to the canons of interpretation previously mentioned, indicated that some luminous (gas was pouring out Its light from the surface of the orb. Two of the lines Bpelled out hydro gen in the spectral lauguage. What the other two signified did not then ap pear ; but, inasmuch as those four streaks were brighter than the rest of the spectrum, tno source from which they came must obviously have been more intensely heated than the under lying parts, or photosphere, from which the normal steller light proceeded. — And aB the star had suddenly flamed up, was It not a natural supposition that It had become enwrapped in burning hydrogen, which, in consequence of some great convulsion, had been liber ated In prodigious quantities,'and then, combining with otherelements, had set this hapless world on Are? In such'h fierce conflagration the combustible gas would soon be consumed, and the glow would, therefore, begin to deoline, sub* bate or. uTunana AByiittßDtMpra, tiai» jreir p»* uiaro of ton Unci ' T S 3 pet yeaz for fcd* ttlonal square. Ikal Estate AnvxßTZsmo, tycenufa Unefior the drat, and 5 oents for each subsequent in sertion. iCTKUAL Advertising 7 cents a line for the first, and 4 cents for each subsequent Inser tion. ?kcial Notzcxs Inserted In Looal Column 15 oentA perils ft. /soiax. Notices preoedlng marriages and deaths, 10 cents per line for first lnsertlonf snd 5 cents ror every subsequent insertion^ IGAIiXKD OTHER NOTICES— Executors’ fcfiO Administrators’ notloee,.. i5O Assignees’ notices, 2^50 Auditors' n0tice5........ „„ 2.00 Other “Notloes/’ten lines, or less, Z three times, 1.50 ject, as In this case, to asocond eruption which occasioned the renewed outburst of light on the 20th of August. By such a catastrophe it is not wholly impossible that our own globe may some time be ravaged, for If a word from the Almighty were to unloose for a few moments the bonds of affinity which unite the elements of water—of the ocean on the land and the moisture in the air—a single spark would bring them together with a fury which would kindle the funeral pyre of the human race, and bo fatal to the planet aud all the works that are therein. It cannot but be startling for us that in yonder doomed and distant world we have, probably, seen in our day a realization of the fearful picture sketched by Peter, “when the heavens (or atmosphere) be ing on Are shall be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat.” And if we regard it as the centre of a system, it is impossible to think with out horror of the fate of the numerous globes around it when overwhelmed by the sudden delugeof light and caloric. — British Quarterly Review. A Sorrowful Story, A petition for divorce in the Chicago courts, the other day, has developed the fol lowing curious history, the dotails of which we take from*a local paper: “ In the year 1851>, there lived in a Swiss valley an interesting family of weulth and culture, named Junod, Monsieur Junod fouud his sole happiness in a lovely daugh ter named Lucie, who was the most admired belle oi that portiou of the canton. >The father, a man of stern, solitary nature, the descendant of a long line of men who had exercised the rights of lordship over all tbo beautiful vineyards that bloomed beneath them, though somewhat fallen from tho stnto of his forefathers, still-nourished feol- Ings of ancestral pride. ' “In some of tho merry makings peculiar to the wine-bearing iPistricts, in which, by the time-honored requirements of trndltion, all ranks meet together in a common Jubi lee, Mile. Lucie mot with a young man named Gustavo Flotrou, of person hand some and attractive, anti by trade a watch maker. Tho nbnegution of everything like sociul distinction enabled l'iotrou to ap proach the ludy withu familiarity to which he would otherwise never hnvo presumed. The ludy 101 l blindly in love with tho bum bio watchmaker. He, llattercd by tbo preference*, dazzled by her beauty, aud, not improbably, still raoro strongly attracted by her fortuno, ardently reciprocated, “ Tho first meeting wuh followed by many others, of course, clandestine. Her fancy, united to tho luoxperionce of girl hood, gave him every opportunity topross his suit, and be became ner accepted lover. The father still supposed that his daughter know no lqye but the affection of a daugh ter to her Ih'thor. The day of awakening came at la3t, and the daughter was forbid den, under tho sovorest threats, again to seo the audacious aspirant. The conlllot between lovo und duty endod as such war fares commonly result—Cupid carried tho day. Thedad£ was possessed of a fortune of soveDty'tlve thousand dollars In her own right, which made her comparatively easy. “ So oue night she made a moonlight Hit ting with her swain. To avoid tho unpleas ant circumstances of living In a country where all the facts wore known, and wbero she might any time meet her offended father, they determined to come to Ameri ca. Nino years elapsed, and the man for whom she gave up all, instead of being tlie devoted, affectionate husband sho expected to find, provod, according to her allegations, to be a brute and a sot. His lavish expenditure and rockloes pursuit of all kinds of pleasure gradually dlsalpnt the noble fortune she had brought him. Valuable silver plato which sho had also possessed was conveyed by him to the silversmiths, aud converted into funds to pamper hia appetites. The wife’s wardrobe and private Jewels, oven, wore appropriated with brutal disregard of tbo feelings of her who hud sacrlucod ovory thing to his pleadings. Odo stroke of ill treatment followed another in swift succes sion, until Mrs. Flotrou. outraged beyond endurance, and fearful of persouul violence to herself and .her child, u lovoly little girl of eight years,- was forced to have recourse to tho tlnal remedy. And thus, yesterday morning, only a day or two after the anni versary of her marriage, nine years ago, a petition for divorce was filed In this city.” Frightful liallroad Accident. Clarksville, July 28.—Lost night the passenger train bound North, and due here ut 1.15 A. M., met with a terriblo uccldent at Budd’s creek, about nine miles south of this place. It appears that as tho train was passing over the trestle the structure gavo wav, precipitating tho engine, baggage cur and two passenger cars into the creek. The cars wore smasbod Into fragments, aud being piled on top of eaah other, made it extremely ditllcult for tho panic-stricken passengers to extricate themsolyes from tho debris. Immediately after the accident, and before the extent of the disaster could be ascertained, tho oars caught ilro either from tho engine or the oil used for illumi nating purposes, and burned rapidly. Those who escaped from lDjury succeeded in dragging out the disabled, and, as far as known, those who were killed. Among tho latter are Eugene Riley, the engineer; the fireman, whose name Is not known, and a New Orleans cotton merchant named Hugh McCall. About ono hundred persons were wound ed, the following seriously: Mr. Fountalne, wife, three children and servant, of Mem phis; Charles Brown, baggage master; Walter Wilcox, of Clarksville; Mr. Stowe, of Bufuula, Ala.; Colonel J. J. lluckende, of The Patriot of this place J Mr. Dugan, express messenger; and Judge Caulkins, wile and two children, of New Orleans, This is the second tlmo within three years that this trestle-work has givon way, and the officers of tho road are severely censured for their apparent criminal negligence. It is feared tnut several of those Injured will not recover. They are alt being cared for in the best possible manner. Affrnculotift Escape-Presence ofMlntJ. On Saturday lust, as tho mall train going west over the Ogdetisburg and L. C. Hail road was nearing a road crossing about a mile east of Malone, und while under full headway, thoonglneer. Hiram Weeks, saw something on the trnck, which ho at first supposed to be a dog, but on getting nearor It proved to bo a child about two ygars old. Uo ut once sounded tho whistle for breaks to bo applied, and at the sumo tlmo put over his reverse lovor, In order to stop the train as soon as possible. As tho engine upprouched tho child, and tho engineer hud blown the whistle a third time for the broken to be upplied, tho mother of tho child was attracted by tho noise, and uppoarod at the door of her residence, tieelng her child,und instantly comprehending tho danger that uwuited it, she run acroaming toward the track to rescue it. The llroman, W. Lavan* way, seeing the mother’s agony on behold ing her child's position, and knowing that she could not roach It In lime to bovo It from being crushed bonoath the'wheels, leaped from tho engino, and with the fleet cess of u deer, as it were, reached the little one just as the forward wheels of tho engine were about to crush it. As soon as tho mother saw that her child was safe, she ut tored ono loud cry of Joy, and sank fuinting to tho ground. -flharplTrlcb In Wall Slreot. Tho Now York correspondent of tho Phil adelphia Ledger says: Homo of the gold gamblors in Wallstreot managed to make a good doal of money lust night by resorting to a tr.ck, which quite throws the old tlmo operations of the mock uuction Peter Punks Into tho shado. It was ascertained iu the fore nart of tho day that tho Cunard steamer Cuba. Balling this morning, would not tako a dollar In speoio, whereupon tho promlum docllned to m. In order to rovorso this downward movo mont, und glvo thomarkot a sharp twist the other wuy, curtain parties hud $760,000 tuken from tbo vaults of ono of tho banks, in the shapo of doublo oagles, done up in kegs, and tbeso were driven ,up and down the street, till late in the day, as if on roulo to tho place of shipment. The bait took, nobody now could doubt but that shipments would be largo, and stiulghtway the market advanced to 1371, an Improvement ofipercont. Peoplowho purchased a quartor of a million or so, at the dechuo, about noon, were thus enabled to sell oat ut a handsome profit, and at tho same tlmo to ufiord tho confiding public unotber brilliant specimen of sharp practice and tho sort of moral Ideas that dominate iu Wall street. Harked Changes at Niagara Falls. Tbo Utica Observer says: ' Various accounts agree that there hag boen a marked chango la the appearance of the falls alnco last year. The theory In re aard to tho caving In or wearing away of Niagara has never had stronger confirma tion beforo. Tho Horse Shoe has evidently given way somo thirty feet In that part of tbo cone where the "green water” is seen, so that the horse shoo appearance is meta morphosed to that of a triangular shape. It is thought that about one hundred ana fifty tons'of rook mast have fallen dn on the Horse Shoe alone, and old habitues are tak ing landmarks, to notice the recession that may take place before another year. The American fall has evidently given way at points to a considerable extent. There is no doubt but that Niagara is al ways crumbling away and fidflog baok, but the preeent recession is probaoly the greatest ever witnessed by any one gener ation. The heavy Ice fields which pass over in the spring, the ourronta and cease less wear and tear of time, and the mighty, thundering cataract, must inevitably tell heavily upon the rocky crest of the gtand old shrine; bat of ooaree its falling away must be so slow as not to be observable to the eye. exoept when from time to time some ox the Immense boulder* »re tom from their places.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers