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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.