Lancaster intelligencer. (Lancaster [Pa.]) 1847-1922, May 17, 1871, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    t, ►
Tw iso eivELLIGENO Fa
--rT
BY
2 ,„„ 9 , y7
y , 74 -r,./pF•
-
;'3llrr -
• Arr
r
IL G. SMITH
TERMS—Two Dollars per* arustim payable
In all cases In advance... • .
Tim L..tiecatirmat DATE.T liirni.mosmcgis is
published every evening, Sunday excepted, at
$ 5 per annum In advance.
OFFlCE3ol.ll.nwaar COUNIER 01 Parma
SQUARE. .
Voett
A mar LE.
The following etyma) . oem In from the pen of
Flit I Ilaber—" Mrs. l'at t I ngton "—nnd lea perfect
picture of his child ood home. It in touching
ly beautiful, and readers will thank no for
publishing It. - friend and town truthful- o
atte- o the beauty and
nese of the ore, and they will thank Mu ,
also, for = pleasure thin gem affords them:
Tiler • • ' Ittle low hat by the river's side,
iin - the imund of Its rippling tide;
1 • ails are g rey with the moietes of years,
And Ile rooftill crumbled and old appears ;
lint fairer to me than castle's pride,
Is the little low but by the river's nide,
- The little low hut was my natal nest,
Where my childhood pmsed—Life a Spring
time bleat;
Where the hopes of ardent youth were formed.
And the KILL of promise my young heart
warmed.
Ere 1 threw myPelf on llfc'e awlft tide,
And left the dear hut by the ricer's side.
That little low hut, In lowly gut.,
Was soft and grand to nay yokthful eyes,
And fairer trees were ne'er known before
Than the apple trees by the bumble dour,
That nay father lovtsl for their thrifty pride,
Which shadowed the hut by the river's side.
That little low but had a glad licartladone,
That echoed of old with a plewsaut tone,
And brotherx and hisierit, a merry crew,
l'ltled the bourn with pleasure nn Lin they
Hew ;
But one by one the hived ouett died,
That dwelt la the hut by the river'h silo.
ENlME=!3===
The graves of the world have called away
Hot quietly, all alone, there MILS
ily the pleaNant window in Sommer noel
Ii olio,
An agedwoman, long years allied
With the little low hat by time river's rid,
That Ilttle low but to the lonely wire
in the eherlshed stage 'or her active life,
Ea.ell seem, Ix reval;ed Lt tnennury'm beam,
AN who /ON by the wlndow In pensive dream
And Joy s and Woes null bud: like a tide
In that little low but by flue river's .vide.
My mother—alone by the river's stile,
Site walls for the Meal Of the heavenly tide,
And the voice that shall thrill ht r heart with
Its roll
To meet ()nee more with the liver ones all,
And Milli lon region beantliteil,
The band that 0111,' !net by the river's
That dear old hut by the river's side,
With the warmest pulse of Illy 111 , 111'1 1.: 1111111
And II glory is over Its dark wall thrown,
That stall', talirivit have never it how.,
And I shall love with II binder pride
That little low lint by the ilver'a side.
=ETD
What are the days but Island ,
till 11111113 . I I tle Islands.
And Ai elei the sea of nil's'' ,
That Howe all 'nit then' ?
Theme, when the 'noon In risen
The otateefti I slitters glisten ;
ISM yonder plashing—listen ;
IL Is the mails tled. fall.
Willti.ll . ll I'M I purr lAOlllll'6ll
Much 111 llv libel rimming,
Apart. Irian C.
There not. 11111111 r 1.. 1111111i114; -
lA, 1111 josh it cohle's
lilJlleu VIII the phantom shipping
'not.
Every day's an island,
A green or liar! en I.
A lowland I/r a hlghl.tlel,
11111.1 it/111,41110/11 nu S//.1,
here iral- lul grocer arr( g
10iar1.4.11 vllll,. i, I r„‘‘ t 11,14.
And rin•ky (•11.1i/eIA .Ir
boat:,
How many are the iutlancl,
The teeming, taut lug uslatutiu,
Thai In l la. sott or nlleur,•,
'li t . rovliug w•IS
Thalr litinilaur 11111111111 I:11nll',•I IL
Thi•lr waly t lie tsitsreol slsos,
The title rettirnless Iluwrl h,
AN i:u•h Is I,•fl lic•hl nil.
'l'h.snllors long to tarry—
For rest tiwy long to 1.. .I . :.
When at m0111.1,1e cif 1:111.3'
'I'lo•y tnnt•ll 111141
With songs of %vita fill ii a lilt
'l'lley billow, late littlesslotg,
Aitti with the titles receding,
Are drifting LIN b 12101,..
flat somellrneg, In the still! nos,
The blind and endless sun
They p tiM heyollll lilt! hiliillig
Of 11111 d Ills/II till' lee;
The lowhtials and the 111;4111am' ,
And all beyond the
Behold the neat of silent,—
Behold the great Nvlllte sett.
ittiscellartrotts.
Taft:1:1;m; or Srintilintinoa rron, the
811011-b o a rd
cultiur, Fnlveling and
IL would perhaps be "saying too
much," to assume that there is no other
popular, or ordiroolo occupation among
men, involving 'greater anxieties and
responsibilities, than that of " crook
ing," and no other master-mechanic
who is compelled to roll a more fearful
gauntlet, than a "crook." Now, it is
just barely possible, that there may be
some uninitiated outsider, who, in the
plenitude of his ignorance, may pro
pound the questions : ' What Is a crook !'
and, " VVhut is crooking.'" and, in
" W hat relation, do these ambiguous
terms stand to tailoring?" We will an
swer that, " for we love to hear and re
peat the here's name." To be brief then,
we may say, that a "crook" occupies
the same relation to tailoring, that a
" boss" does to any other mechanical
calling. A true tailor, 11(Ter, under any
circumstances, applies the term of boss,
to his employer. So far as he is in the
habit of doing this, just so tar has lie
departed front the genuine spirit of his
profession. A master tailor, therefore,
is always called a crook, and never a
boss, for this latter term has no legiti
macy in tailoring. ISM, as the term
boss is applied to " undergraduates," or
subordinates in other occupations, so
also is the term crook in tailoring; and
this analogy is a further illustration of
the relative value of these terms, when
respectively applied to the trades to
which they belong. That the several
other trades have not a distinctive term
for their employers, is not the fault of
the tailor ; moreover, it is a matter
which he leaves them to adjust and ar
range among themselves; his employer
he styles his crook, and has so distinc
tively styled him, "time out of mind,"
But the term of crook has, more direct
ly, reference to a garment cutter, than
to an employer, or a mere conductor of
the tailoring business. Indeed, many
employers or conductors of tailoring
establishments, cannot, by any strained
prerogative or privilege, be legitimately
called a crook, although their employee
or employees may rightfully be so culled.
There is a unity, an individuality,
and a dignity about the mime of emelt . ,
which the tailor eltiiins as peculiarly
his own, or a specialty pertaining to his
craft ; and with this teim is associated
a distinctive meaning. John Wana
maker may be worth his and
'l)y his employees may have cut and dis
posed of many thousands of garments,
but until he learns to " cut, snivel and
contrive," himself, lie never can attain
to:the position of a crook—" that's our
shine,' whatever that shine may be
worth—this we say as a matter of fact,
and not as a disparagement. crook,
then, in brief, is a garment-cutter, and
the act or function of such a cutter, is
crooking. This term is sometimes pro
miscuously applied to • proprietors, as
well us cutters, but it belongs exclusive
ly to the latter, in its legitimate hpplica
tion, and crook-tailors, generally, are
rigid leg:du:lists ; and, although a pe
riod might arrive iu their social and pe
cuniary condition when they might not
think it much of an honorable distinc
tion to be longer called a crook, yet they
would much prefer pt. to " boss," a term
that isoften applied to anybody or every
body, whose name is not known—let
him be high or low, white or black,
virtuous or pronigate, intelligent or ig
norant. Old as this term is, and almost
universally as it has been applied to a
garment-cutter, both in England and
America, it is somewhat singular that
uo reference is made to it, in that sense,
in any dictionary that we have yet
seen. Such being the case, and having
no distinctive literature of the craft to
refer to, we can only conjecture the ori
gin and application of the term crook,
to a cutter of garments. The obvious
definition of crook, is a turn, a bend, a'
curse;
and as the garment-cutter has
more bent or curved lines to draw out,
in marking-off, or " drafting," his work,
than perhaps any other mechanic who
uses " line and rule "—and as these
curves are very eccentric, and require
skill in•attaining :a proficiency-in, it is
quite probable that the term crook was
_gradually adopted and Incorporated
~ with the technology of the trade, many
.104.yeitis ago.
':',3l - aaler-lailora, (although a man who
is WALL cutter cannot be a crook,.yet lie
.-may. be, insome sense, a master tailor)
that is, those who conduct the trade on
a large end elegant scale, and who oc,
• . copy large establishments,
when they.
odoptJan emblem, it is that of a Lamb—
' • agoldenlambsothetimes—butgenerally
"'oho of spotless ' This,with some,
May linydkepresented the `Pascalluttib, ,
With' 'others merely the "fleeee "'or the
ec t. , Algittor,*; material ppd. Py..tt'
4424:44k 4 #14.cr5..agi0,;:A44444
javbfyiliaykrepresentatOinPonce, 4
That os-1, Una, yr,,;aiamtv suggests , she
'''' - ' -'' '-
''' r f sr
...
, r . ( 1 !---'' . o -- e--' - : i , 7: 7 '1"
. . , ~, ~,,,---, , - t ,:,,,-.;-,•:1-0, i ~,,. -,-.., a . ,
. -. . _l. -,, ! ~.:,-1 , ..-,., ...... - l c ~ .E. • c••,..:,../I-- , •' ----
. 1 rnif.3.3
• t . -• • • • 1 ; %
"1): :
: ---: i 1 ::1 "%'' ; ; !1; .- . __i i • .:::. 3rf .1 • : •• .7.••••• • 7 ! . :;n p,04. .., •••• I. (1 ..) /... Lrill , 797.%1 71 ~,: , 211..
1— , ~...
• , -
. . .• _. •••.! ••• . ..nt • ••• • Mit ' , ...... .I. • 1 0 11 1 f ,
, .. ; L.t l,-,, , i,,, ,W-.. • , t ' - • } ~,, 4,,,-;
KLEVIE 72
sheep's sUpherd, and shepherd a Crook.
We have heard the term "click" applied
to cutters among shoemakers, in the
same sense that crook is, applied M.tail
ors ; and In that =Stiehl* it only meant
those who could cut boOts, shoes and
other foot-gear; and in some localities, a
good or bad click, was quite as common
as a good or bad crook. These explana
tions and speculations may be sufficient
to give the reader as clear an Idea of
what we mean by a crook, as is neces
sary to a proper understanding of our
subject. 4
The implements of a crook are a for
midable pair of crooking-shears ; an
inch-measure; a square, or a straight
edged rule ; and a box of crayons. The
character of these implements'are, how
ever, varied, according to the system he
uses, in his crooking operations, from
the simple paper-measure andplain
square, through the various grades of
eveiopment, in measuring, draftlng;,
id cutting, to the most complicated
ries of elyptics, straps, graded•scales,
.rotractors, and transfers; some of
the latter of which seem pon
derous enough. for the harness of a
dray-horse. Some crooks confine them
selves to a simple tape, divided into
inches'or contimes. and a plain square
or "slat," and otheis use levels, plumbs
and other sorts °rein] trivances, by which
they establish the fundamental points in
"drafting;" but, however these may
differ in their modes of operation, they
all result in theproduction of a garment
for the human form, whether It be good,
had, or indifferent; and doubtless they
would all lit, If the form was always
adapted to the garment.
Some crooks take a special pride in
using—" My own Rule,' whilst others
are "sticklers" for Ward, Mahan, Scott,
Madison, Oliver, West, Wilson, Wil-
I iants, Atkinson, Acton, Chappell,
Butte' Mk, Saulsberry, " Old-thirds,"
•' and others of major or
minor note, us well as many, perhaps,
which have never yet received a dis
tinctive reputation or a name. Since
the introduction of the sack, and its va
rious modifications, there have been
perhaps, more garments cut by the lay
ing on of patterns, than at any other
period, since the very origin of tailor
ing us a handicraft. Pattern-cutting,
has been reduced to a sort of system,
and therefore this kind of crooking has
grown into a commercial magnitude
and value, little apprehended by those
outside of the trade. Still, there are
sonic crooks who repudiate all manner
of patterns with scorn and contempt,
and who would rather make a bad tit,
in the " regular" way, than to make a
good one with a pattern. We have no
quarrel with either party, but prefer to
let all work out their mechanical or pro
fessional salvation, in freedom, and in
their own peculiar way. All the compli
cations in drafting and cutting,,what aver
system may be used, end, or terminate in
a coat,a waisteoat,or a pair of pan falcons,
and these, ultimately, in rugs, when all
in reference to them, virtually, become
" dead issues." Although " pattern
crooking" may not yet have received
the seal of legithoacy, yet it cannot be
denied, that it is n " power" in the do
main of the wardrobe, and especially
in its relations to clothing for children,
youths and ladies
But there Is a collateral or subordinate
branch of crooking, operatives in which
:ire called trimmers, or "button-stay
crooks.'' The functichis of these men
re to " piece out the facings," cut the
inings, and supply the necessary glm-
ti ties of canvass, padding, wadding,
sewings, buttons, and whatever elee the i
various changes n the prevailing styles
and fashions, and the times, • seasons,
and other circumstances, may dictate.
The term forman expresses nearly
the same, in tailoring, as crook ; and,
with those outside of the craft, the for
mer term is most generally used. But
a man may be a crook, without being
a master-t'dlor or a foreman ; moreover;
any handicraft may have a foreman, a
tailor or a e arewoea sutter alone, how
ever, can be a crook, in the sense we
use it in this paper; and, it is possible
to be a foreman, even in a tailoring es
tablishment, without being a crook, for
that functionary does not always imply
a cutter—he may in short, be an over
seer of cutters, or crooks, in which case
he is sometimes called the " head
crook." The master-tailor is sometimes
his own crook, as well as his own jour
neyman and "bushelmau," all these
functions—as tell as other collateral
functions—concentrating in one and
the same person. There are scores
now in the profession, who can remem
ber the time, when, as a master-lailor,
they would go to the store and "trim off
a job" and carry it home; then as a
crook, "draft it off" and "cut it out,"
after which as a jour, they would
"mount the shop-board," and "make it
up;' and should it require altering,
would afterwards "bushel it," and as a
"call-boy," would carry it to the cus
tomer." Possibly too, with many of
them, those were really the happiest
days they had ever spent at tailoring—
happy in theprescat and its surround
ings, with few regrets about the past,
and fewer yearnings, or anxieties, about
the name,. We think we can see them
still—carefully drawing their lines, and
"sweeping" their curves, and with
steady handforming the crooks and ec
centrics, that are necessary in fitting a
garment to the "human form divine."
And then, almost counting, as it were,
every stitch that went into the "job"—
contemplating, with as much delight,
its slow progress towards completion, as
a farmer views his broad acres, and an
ticipates the variety, the (inanity and
the quality of his growing crops.
We can see him still, as he progresses
in hii work, holding up its parts be
tween his own . eyes and the ethereal
light, scanning its outline of form, and,
speculating upon the probabilities of its
fit, pinching in a little here, and stretch
ing out a little there, or adding a little
more wadding at anotherplace, in order
to adapt it the more completely to his
customer's form, which is all the time
hovering in his imagination, and dictat
ing what ought to he done to realize his
dearest wishes. And after all his labor
and pains-taking, although the foul-en
:437We may meet his approbation, yet
he may be much piqued at some of the
details; for the tailor is himself his own
severest sensor, and can see defects
where another would fail to see them.
When he is gifted with that peculiar
turn of mind which is too obtuse to
comprehenda, defect—or when seen, cati
succeed in palming it °this the style,"
then he is a happy man, and can ride
upon the wave of fashion into fortune.
Whilst the tailor's whole business is
. . _ .
confined within his own individual
sphere, his success will be proportion
ately greater than when It is expanded
into cutting for twenty or thirty opera
tives under him. Because, in the for
mer case he has the form of his custo
mer in his mind, and can adapt the pro
cess of making to that form—for every
intelligent tailor will acknowledge, that
snaking, in producing a tasty garment,
is only secondary to cutting—but in the
latter case, his journeyman may know
nothing about the peculiarities of the
customer, and therefore his efforts will
be merely mechanical. Again, when
he cuts a garment and makes it himself,
he can rectify any defects in a succeed
ing one, by the experiences of that
which preceded it. It is not so in a
large sphere of operations, where lie
probably cuts twenty garments before
he sees one on a customer's back and all
made by jours of different degrees of
skill, and different tastes In forming.
Admitting that everything, relating
to a tasty and good-fitting garment, has
been "all right," so fares the functions
of the crook are concerned, his "re
sponsibilities and anxieties," may still
be put' to the severest test, by an in
competent journeyman ; although, if
he is not a man of sterling principles,
lie may impute to his journeymen, de
fects which solely belong to himself;
and in such a case' the former would net
be long in telling, him so, in his own
peculiar phraseology. Said the vener
able Mr. E. T. G. in a neighboring city,
to one of his jours, " Sir, I pronounce
that job an unmitigated •*buzzard
" And sir," promptly responded the
jour, " I pronounce it until buzzard, and
therefore nothing else could be made of
it." These are the compliments which
occasionally pass between the crook'and
the journeyman. But, If there are cases
in which the former is entirely at faulty
so are there also when that burden rests
un the shoulders of the latter. An old.
Teutonic croMt,iti Abe city of Baltimore,
long years figo,,was wont to expresti his
disapprobation something In this.Wis4:
"When cut nmeoats out, and ,Io9k at
them, theymake me-laugh ; but .wheh
the . journeymen .bring them In, made
np f tliey make mesery.'-'.. And no won
' der ; for'therels nothing on'earth sotry
initton 'sensitive' rick, to. find , his
, *.A.-badry•apoilediate of Nmrli,eltber la.cati;
at: • , •
work utterly "botched" by 'tinitiorri
petent maker, 'no Matter' how badly it.
may have been cut; and to recount all
their llfe-experiences in-this respect, by
many crooks, would fill many volumes.
; But, apart fromall these adverse con
tingencies, there are many bright sides
to the profession of a crook, when all
things move along in harmony. No
man, perhaps, feels a greater : pleasure
than he when le has in 'all respects,
suited his customer; and on the other
hand, none more heart-sick and chop
fallen, when he is conscious he has fail
ed, no matter with whom the real cause
may lie. Often, too, these corrosions
may be gnawing
. his , heart, when the
world deems him indifferent and gay.
GRANTELLITS.
The Magic Wand
The words of the old naturalist are no
exaggeration—where there Is no water
there is no life. It fills the veins of our
great mother, Nature, and there is no
plant and no living being that can ex
ist a moment without the needful sup
ply. More than two•thirds of man's
structure, fearfully and wonderfully
made, consists of water; and, if a vege
table star-jelly, or a medusa, be dried,
there remains barely enough to attest its
former existence. .Mosses and alive, with
thegreat host of in fusoria, suspend their
existence when water is no more at
hand, and, with the first tiny rain-drop,
they revive and resume their joyous
existence.
Hence the universal worship of the
beneficent element and its all-Import
tutee in every myth and every faith.—
All things, taught Thales of Miletus,
have been born of water; and the spirit
of the Almighty " moved upon the face
of the waters." The gods of India are
floating mediatively upon the leaves of
gigantic water-roses, and the goddess of
beauty arose in 'Matchless perfection
from the waves of the ocean. Even the
Church sanctifies the pure element as
the emblem of spiritual regeneration.
It is not strange, therefore, that from
time Immemorial pure water should
have been sought fur with eagerness;
and that hence, springs were worship
ped and honored far above lakes or
rivers. There was no sacred fane known
to the ancients, which lacked the sym
bolic spring by its side, and, even where
the pure fountain arose in capricious
wilfulness from the briny deep, the pre
cious gift was duly appreciated. The
ruins of a temple built over such a
spring bubbling up from the Mediter
ranean, still are seen near Corinth, and
midway in the Rhine stands to this day
a Roman structure protecting a similar
spring. The river-god ever dwelt at the
place where it gushed forth from the
bosom of the earth, and thence it poured
down its rich blessings, making all the
lands it touched with its life-giving
waters to bloom and bear in abundance.
Dragons and sacred serpents watched
over the purity of favored springs that
brought health and life to suffering
men, and the ' still waters' of German
races, drawn secretly at Easter and
Christmas for mysterious purpose's, were
ever obtained from springs alone. No
wonder then, that a great poet should
have loved to dwell by the side of that
most fatuous of all springs, which, born
far beneath the mountain's side, bursts
forth all of a sudden into a cascade. and
filling a vast basin with its stormy llood,
foams at once a mighty stream into the
rich plain beneath.
Great is the love of the favored chil
dren of our earth, to whom water is
given in abundance; but greater far the
gratitude of those who, in the midst of
Nature's richest gifts, in the tropics or
surrounded by fearful deserts, are left
for months without the refreshing ele
ment. Who can describe the delight
with which, in equatorial lands, the first
drop's of the early rains are hailed by
men, who have for months been com
pelled to live upon the repulsive water
of pools and morasses? And what can
equal the almost delirious joy with
which the wanderer in the Sahara, after
Mt . ). 1,0.. no in tiea
precious spring and cools the parched,
shrivelled palate with the ineffably
sweet, cool fluid? Well says the Arab
in his proverb, therefore: "All the
treasures of the carat are not equal to a
drop of water!"
"Fortunately, lands without water
are rare on this beautiful earth, and,
even where apparently the want is
greatest, help is easy and ready at hand.
" There is au ocean beneath our feet,"
had the Touariks of Africa said with
instinctive truth for many a generation ;
and no sooner had the French in Alge
ria reached the Sahara, than they began
sinking artesian wells, and the desert
now literally blooms forth as the rose.
The Great American Desert on our maps
will, in like manner, soon become a mis
nomer, as by similar means water is
brought to light everywhere, and rich
crops are raised where a few years ago
sterile plains and alum-fields spoke of
nothing but solitude and starvation.
that even more favored regions are
rarely content with Nature's supply,
and long for a greater abundance of the
precious elements. In days of old,when
science was but an infant, and instinct
had to take the place of knowledge, the
godsalone were deemed powerful enough
to allure the Liddell spring front its dark
home to the bright light above. But
why in all cases gods and men alike
should have accomplished the miracle
by the aid of a rod has never yet been
ascertained. Yet such is the fact, from
the days of ancient Greece to our own.
When new-born Zeus had no water for
his first bath, Rhea struck the Arcadian
Mountain with her stall; and au ample
spring burst forth at her commands. At
another time Bacchus knocks iris thyr
sus against the earth, and water gushes
out at once; Poseidon, to gratify the fair
daughter of Danaos, whom Ire loved ten
derly, hurled his trident down, and the
triple Lermean spring refreshed the
parched lands of Argos. In Eastern
Persia the great Jenyeed cleft the earth
with his golden sword to conjure up a
living spring; and Balder, the white
god of Scandinavia, saved in the sante
manner his despairing army front a
miserable death by calling forth a spring
during the very heat of the battle.
Godlike heroes and priests, favored
with powers front on high, repeated
these miracles. Moses struck the rocky
sides of Sinai with his rod and " water
came out of it; " and the Catholic
Church has numerous legends of like
character, from the well even now seen
in the ruins of the Mamertine prison,
which furnished St. Peter miraculously
the water for the baptism of his keeper
and his companions, to the Spanish
saint of a few years ago, who pushed a
branch of a tree into the parched ground
and saw living waters gush forth from
the hole. _ . . _ .
There can be no doubt, therefore, that,
from of old, men must have known how
to discover hidden waters. Moses, no
doubt, learned the art with all the wis
dom of the Egyptians which he ac
quired ; and from the same source the
Greeks obtained it, for Danaos, who
opened fifty springs in thirsty Argos,
and was hence called the Giver of Wa
ter, came from Egypt. But, of all na
tions on earth, the Etruscans were be
yond comparison the masters of this
mysterious art. They had special spring
finders (aquilegi) who enjoyed many
privileges and were highly esteemed;
the few references made by ancient
writers to their manner of proceeding
seem to indicate that they possessed a
surprising knowledge of geology, and
hid under mystic forms a truly scientific
method. Their art, however, was early
lost, and already in the days of Cassio
dorus African masters were sent for, to
find springs in the suburbs of Rome;
but they judged only, as our Indians do
I to this day, from the appearance of the
' surface, the abundance Of certain plants,
the absence Of dew, or the early melting
of snow.
About a thousand years ago, however,
the rod, as a magic wand, began once ,
more to play a prominent part in the
search after water. It was commonly
a forked branch, cut with certain
solemn ceremonies from a hazel,biish;.
thetwo ends were seized by , the hands
-of thegifted owner, holding the rod On
a level with the .ground,' as aligh as:the
breast, and whatever preclousmetals or,
pure water are hidden,. underground,
there then* would bend and twist,
.and ;
if reSisted„,eyen break off short, . From
the foUrteentif century, to our - oWiCthbi,
dlidning-rod has' enjoyed the reputation
of being a-Sure means of diSeoVering,
water,- and:there iB • no denying that
large numbers of men; in alt,couut. ries t
1 of.the earth, who have used , .the,,rolk
have found -springs.:Oere„4:key,,were
I before neither. known ; , per SkisPePke4,
,The - question, however, reinams. open.
hether their'•rilt3itilot:•'.'oriranfrathnt
was • not "such' es - -td""enittilit"' them
'to accomplish 'tbie -:eantie , •end with
out. , the rod::: hall}.
that now and then men .:are peePliarlYN
eudelved bylNatilre,Fith tIIPIAIRNT pfeel
LANCASTER, PA, WEDNESDAY - MORNING:MAY 17, 1871.
•
the erf water, ' Bleton; a native
of 'Dauphine, and a simple shepherd,
.noticed that he always felt sick when
seated upon a.large stone, and even
when 'coming near it. The stone was
moved to another place, and, behold,
• the attack ceased, but returned as soon
as be approached the place where it had
been lying. • Some sourciers, as the men
of the rod are called in Southern France,
heard of it, dug there, and discovered a
powerful spring. Thereupon. Bleton
travelled through his native province
and the adjoining regions in search of
water ; whenever he came near a sub
terranean supply, be felt an oppression
near the heart, which was followed by
violent tremblings ; his legs shook, his
hands sunk down helpless, the pulse
slackened, s and frequently he fainted
away. Nevertheless he employed the
divining-rod, and during his lifetime
even the great masters of science, who
took a deep interest in Ills case, were
doubtful as to the power of the magic
wand.
A far more remarkable case, however,
which forever ended the prestige of the
divining-rod, was that of - Paratnelle, a
French priest of Southern France, who
added to a peculiar natural gift profound
study and extensive research. His fame
soon spread far and near, the govern
ment prevailed upon him to abandon his
sacred office and to become a national
benefactor. For more than thirty years
this remarkable man travelled through
France, Belgium, and Germany, re
ceived everywhere with enthusiasm, and
now looked upon by the ignorant with
awe as a magician, and now worshipped
by the superstitious as asaint. He went
on horseback, dressed in the simple garb
of his profession, examining the soil,
studying the landscape, and then, with
unerring accuracy, pointing out the
place where springs, water-courses, and
subterranean lakes, would be found.
Over ten thousand springs were thus
opened, furnishing suffering provinces
an ample supply, and bestowing rich
blessings upon a great kingdom.
While the simple, benevolent priest
never used the rod nor accepted a re
ward, we learn that in,our enlightened
country the magic wand and its inys-
ticisms are coming to honor once more.
Of the ten or twelve thousand oil-wells
bored in Pennsylvania, we are told that
one thousand at least were located by
diviners with a divining-rod, or with a
pendulum made of a deerskin bag en
closing a ball of musk, or by spiritualists
falling into trances and executing spas
modic evolutions when they felt the in
fluence of the spots to be selected ! Sure
ly, when we hear such accounts, when
we read of the divining-needle used by
Tartars, pointing to cabalistic signs and
thus foretelling the future, and compare
this with our planchette, and when the
witchcraft of Hebrew days is found to
have foreshadowed in every feature the
exploits of modern rappers—we may
well doubt the superiority of our civil
ization.— ppleton's Journal.
ow I Edited an Agricultural Paper
1 did not take the temporary editor
ship of an agricultural paper without
misgivings. Neither would a landsman
take command of a ship without mis
givings. But I was in circumstances
that made the salary an object. The
regular editor of the paper was going of
for a holiday, and I accepted the terms
he offered, and took his place.
The sensation of being at work again
was luxurious, and I wrought all the
week with unflagging pleasure. We
went to press, and I waited a day with
some solicitude to see whether my ef
fort was going to attract any notice. As
I left the office, towards sundown, a
group of men and boys at the foot of the
stairs dispersed with one impulse, and
gave me passage-way, and I heard one
or two of them say : ' That's him !"
was naturally pleased by this incident.
The next morning I found a similar
group at, me Mtn tit lam
tering couples and individuals standing
here and there in the street, and over
the way, watching me with interest.—
The group separated and fell back as I
approached, and I heard a man say
" Look at his eye !" I pretended not to
observe the notice I was attracting, but
secretly I was pleased with it, and was
purposing to write an account of it to
m aunt. I went up the short flight of
stairs . , and heard cheery voices and
ringing laugh as I drew near the door,
which I opened, and caught a glimpse
of two young, rural-looking men, whose
faces blancliitl when they saw me, and
then they both plunged through the
window with a great crash. I was sur
prised.
In about half an hour an old gentle
man, with a flowing beard and a fine,
but rather austere face, entered, and sat
down at my invitation. He took oil
his hat and set it on the flour, and got
out of it a red silk handkerchief and a
copy of our paper. He put the paper
on his lap, and, while he polished his
spectacles with his handkerchief, he
I said :
! "Are you the new editor?"
said I was.
Have you ever edited an ogrioultur
al paper before ?"
" No," I said;
tempt."
Very likely. Have you had any
experience in agriculture, practically ?'
"No, I believe I have not."
"Some instinct told me so," said the
old gentleman, nutting on his specta
cles and looking over them at me with
asperity, while he folded his paper into
a convenient shape. "I wish to read
you what must have made me that in
stinct." It 'was this editorial. Listen,
and see if it was you that wrote it :
Turnips should never be pulled—it
injures them. It is much better to send
a boy up and let him shake the tree.
" Now, what do you think of that?—
for I really suppose you wrote it 7"
"Think of it? Why, I think it is
good, I think it is sense. I have no
doubt that every year, millions and mi !-
lions of bushels of turnips are spoiled in
"this is my first at
this township alone by being pulled in a
half-ripe condition, when, If they had
sent a boy up lo shake the tree—"
" Shake your grandmother ! Turnips
don't grow on trees!"
" Oh, they don't, don't they? Well,
who said they did? The language was
intended to be figurative, wholly figu
rative. Anybody that knows anything
will know that the boy should shake
the vine."
Then this old person got up and tore
his paper all into small shreds, and
stamped on them, and broke several
things with his cane, and said I did not
know as much as a cow; and then
went out, and banged the door after
him, and, in short, acted in such a way
that I fancied he was displeased about
something. But, now knowing what
the trouble was, I could not be any
help to him.
Pretty soon after this a long, cadav
erous creature, with lanky locks hang
ing down to his shoulders and a week's
stubble bristling from the hills and val
leys of his face, darted within the door,
and halted, motionless, with finger on
lip, and head and body bent in listening
attitude. No :sound was heard. Still
he listened. No sound. Then he turn
ed the key in the door, and came elab
orately tiptoeing toward me, till he was
within long reaching distance of me,
when he stopped after scanning my,
face with intense interest for a while,
drew a folded copy , of our paper from
his boson; and said :
"There—you wrote that. Read ft to
me, quick! Relieve me—l suffer."
I' read as follows and as the sentences
fell from My lips T'could See the relief
come—l could- see the drawn Muscleb
relax, and the anxiety go out of the face,
and rest and peace steal over the fea--
tures like the merciful moonlight over a
desolate landscape :
-" The guano is aline bird, but great
Care is - necessary iiireiirttig It. It should
not be imported earlier than -June -nor
later than-September. In the winter it
should be, kept ins warm-place, where
-
it, ean hatch eut' its poling. ~
It is evident.that.pte , are to have a
,baekward Season for..grain. Therefore,
ltVill be well for thellriner to , begin
setting out hisoorn-stal and planting
his buckwheat-eaketr,An July:instead of
. )
CoeceriLinilhelh•tpipkin.4,l4s bet:-
g t lo,4,l4yerlte m 1,41. the natives ok the
1 1410494 91 .1 , wi4 9 4 1 1 1110 ( 1 1 4110 gent It
! l i te,the.goose erry:fin tlie"geeti.ing_of l tleff
and vleiii,kewlee spice itthe'
preference eve; ktiq ilyipbeiry fpr, ed
ing 49 , 4 , 8,.ai3A)e1pg 419r9;ti4ius , arkil:
es otigylag.. , „WS i pppq °nix.
, 1 1 4014944 01%419 91404144PUY triat7will
iAii;k4uid
*44.94e.w,Av0 A are
11 1 4 0 1 1 4 0 4 z ithe :
!4/1/113reA44 9tti , ..4, it
14:t401 1 .11 1 .1411 1 ;
ABE in Ant i ,4;45,J0K
,
generallyconceded that the pumpkin, as
a shade4ree, is failure.
Now, as the warm
arm weather:approaches
and the ganders begin to spawn—
The excited _listener sprang toward
me,
to shake hands, and said
"There, there—that will do I I know
I am all right now, because you have
read it just as I did, word for word. But,
stranger, when I first read it this morn
ing, I said tarnyself, I never, never be
lieved it before, notwithstanding my
friends kept me under watch so strict,
but now I believe lam crazy ; and with
that I fetched a howl that you might
have beard two miles, and started out
to kill somebody—because, you know,
I knew it would come to that sooner or
later, and so I might as well begin. I
read one of them paragraphs over again,
so as to be certain, and then I burned
my house down and started. I have
crippled several people, and have got
one fellow up a tree, where I can get
him if I want him. But I thought I
would call in here as I passed along.
and make things perfectly certain; and
now it is certain, and I tell you it is
lucky for the chap that is in the tree. I
should have killed him sure, as I went
back. Good-by, sir, good-by—you have
taken a great load off my mind. My
reason has stood the strain of one of your
agricultural articles, and I know that
nothing can ever unseat It now. Good
by, sir."
Shopping In London
What a never-ending source of amuse
ment the London streets are to the
newly-arrived American—their very
names historical. here we are in Re
gent street, where you can buy every
thing; the four quarters of the world
seem to have been laid under contribu-
tion to supply it; here are magnificent
jewelry stores, all ablaze with rich and
artistically-set gems and jewels ; here a
huge magazine of nothing but India
shawls and scarfs—an excellent place to
buy a camel's hair shawl. Ladies, save
your money till you go to Loudon, for
that pride of woman's heart comes into
England duty free, and from fifty to
four hundred dollars may be saved, ac
cording to the grade purchased, on the
price charged in America. In this India
store one could buy from scarfs at five
shillings to shawls at four hundred
guineas.
Then there were the splendid dry
goods stores, the windows most mag
nificently dressed ; shoe stores with
those peculiarly 'built'—that is the only
word that will express it, so fashioned
by rule into structures of leather were
they—English-built shoes of all sizes in
the window, and shoes that will out
wear three pairs of Yankee-made affairs,
unless onegoes tosome of the very choice
establishments, or to the foreigners at
home, who, knowing how rare faithful
work and good material are in their
business, charge a tremendous premium
for both articles. I think for service,
ease to the foot, and real economy, there
is nr, boot or shoe like those by the skill
ed London makers; the price charged
is only about' .5 per cent. less than in
America; but an article of solid, sub
stantial, honest British workmanship is
furnished, and any one who has ever
bought any portion of his wardrobe of
all English maker, knows the satisfac
tion experienced iu wearing articles
made upon honor ; the quality, Stitches
and workmanship can be depended
u )011.
But what is in other shops
0, everything; elegant displays of
gentlemen's furnishing goods, of shirts,
under-clothing, socks, and gloves, of a
variety, fineness, and beauty I had nev
er seen before ; gloves, fans, fancy-goods,
Chinaware ; toy-shops, shops of English
games, cricket-furniture,bats, balls, &c.,
elegant wine and preserve magazines—
where were conserves, preserves, condi
ments, pickles, cheeses, dried fruits,
dried meats, and appetizing delicacies
from every part of the globe, enough to
drive an epicure crazy. At these great
establishments are put up the " ham
persne " that go to supply parties who go
rue,' -roo
shilling or five-pound hamper, and ale
supplied accordingly—meat-pies, cold
tongues, fowls, game, wines, ales,
pickles. There are English pickles,
Dutch sour-crout, French pale de jois
Bras, Frunian haddock, German saus
ages, Italian macaroni, American buf
falo tongues, and Swiss cheeses, in
slacks. That is what astonishes the
American—the enormous stock in these
retail establishments, and the immense
variety of styles of each article; but it
should be remembered that this is
the market of the world, and the com-
petition here is sharp. Go into a store
for a pair of gloves, even, mention the
size you desire, and the salesman will
show you:every variety in kid, French
dogskin, cloth, and leather; for soiree,
promenade, driving,traveling and every
species of use, and different styles and
kinds for each use. The salesmen un
derstand their business, which is to sell
goods; they are polite, they suggest
wants, they humor your merest whim
in hue, pattern, style, or fancy; they
make no rude endeavor to force goods
upon you, but are determined you shall
have just what you want; wait upon
you with assiduous politeness, and seem
to have been taught their occupation.
One misses that sort of independent
nonchalance with which an American
retail salesman throws out one article
at a time, talking politics or of the
weather to you, while you, yourself turn
over the goods, place them, and adjust
them for the effect of light or shade, as
he indolently looks on, or persistently
battles in argument with you, that what
lie has shown you is what you ought
to have, instead of what you demand
and want; also that American style
of indifference, or independence, as to
whether you purchase or not, and the
making of you—as you ascertain after
shopping in London—do half the sales
man's work. The London shopman
understands that deference is the best
card in the pack, and plays it skillfully.
He attends to you assiduously ; he is un
tiring to suit your taste. If he sells you
a ribbon, the chances are that you find,
before leaving, you have purchased
gloves, fan, and kerchief besides, and it
is not until von finally take your de
parture that he ventures to remark that
" it is a very tine day."—Ouild's " Over
thc Ocean."
Similarity of Odors.
It is interesting to notice that many
kinds of flowers emit a fragrance ex- ,
sally similar to some fruit ; and so mark
ed sometimes is the resemblance that
the name of the fruit is given to the
flower. There are wide differences in
the acuteness of the sense of smell in
different individuals, and an acute sense
will detect these similarities where
others would not. Mignonette has an
odor of theqnnilla bean, so has helio
trope ; many pinks have a strong smell
of cloves; the delicate little magnolia
Meseta has the rich fragrance of the fig
banana, and not a few flowers offer,
more or less distinctly,a pleasant hint of
apples. This is often remarked but sel
dom explained.
It is much the same case with the
leaves of many plants ; the names of the
geraneums, rose, apple, nutmeg, etc.,
signify their perfume. The explanation
could not possibly be simpler than it is.
Our noses are simply intuitive chemists ;
certain essential oils exist in certain
things and our smelling sense detects
their presence whenever they are
brought near. We may be confident, if
any flower, fruit and leaf have an odor
in common they have that chemical in
common which sense discovers, and the
general expression of "curious," is not
half so well justified as if possessing the
ingredient iu common, they did not
smell alike.
Every one knows that chemists get
many of these perfumes—that is, the
oils which emit them—entirely by in
dependent chemical operation on simple
elements, without extracting from any
plant. Probably half or much more
than half the cooking and toilet -"ex
tracts" of commerce are altogether inno
cent of any "death of the _Bowers," and
owe their existence to retort'and Cruci
ble. Some of them are got front 'Coal
tar. There are several kinds of Aber
that have rich fruity odors., The bulls
of walnuts are,preelsely life iodine ! ,
Another truth Is pleaSantly 4.980C1EV
led;that fundarriental. principal of
botany ,that all the'lliirbreht.' form of,
.vegetable growthkare hut various deyeii
I,opp:tents of the same Eiet : of tisstge, The,
richt' is the Sallie as the' Crank; different'
I only Hi atitingernent ; the 'flowerlabtit
the leaf with-like difterenek;•tho.fruit
ltovtiat all th.4 l e4: l _ ll3 ,;antl.nct um% but
,with own,pecutiar derdopmeh4.
pairinion to ,remarit the'same,nder
`leaf,'ilowei.aicid'frtilt;thotigh Johe'taste,
brthe leaf mainebittei, , theliciWer ,
Effildatid; thalnikateePtiandlifinhe''',,
r.gmosi 4i4vv*.9.4
V# d :PIM P & !!!4ijffltrtr:the'
presence of other principles, peculiar to
each, disguises, the presence of the per
fttme they have in common.
Moribund Monomaniacs.
The columns of our exchanges of late
have been enlivened, or rather over
shadowed by a series of remarkable an
ecdotes of eccentric individuals, who
seem to have fallen in love with the
gloomy trappings of the tomb. We
hear of men who, in anticipation of
their latter end, have taken a strange
delight In preparing their coffins, in
devising quaint burial clothes, and in
occupying themselves generally in the
contemplation of those gloomy details
which mankind generally prefer to en
trust to others. The peculiarity seems
to be confined to no race or clime. The
reports come to us alike from the bleak
hillsides of New England and
from the sunny slopes of the
Pacific coast. Even Chicago, where,
if anywhere—judging from the glow
ing newspaper reports of unexam
pled prosperity—life should be a Par
adise on earth, and existence a sweet
dream of delightful excitement, num
bers these melancholy monomaniacs
among her citizens. The man who
keeps a coffin in his back parlor Is by no
means an unusual individual In the
newspaper colums. Nor Is the coffin a
dismal euphuism for that ungainly ob
ject, a modern piano-forte. The gentle- '
men who cheerfully superintend the
building of colossal sepulchres intend
ed for themselves and their families are
of common occurrence. Of late, too,
there has been quite a mania for ghastly
private rehearsals of those dread final
scenes to which every living person Is
inevitably doomed. In Europe there is
a similar tendency to indulge in this
monomania, and at the same time the I
superstitious legends of the olden times
are undergoing a decided revival. That
mysterious "white lady" who haunts so
many of the castles of Germany is again
actively prowling about the half ruined
walls, greatly to the discomfort of the
living inmates of the time-honored resi
dences ; while other family traditions of
the gloomiest nature are again circiim
stantially related to startled groups of
trembling listeners.
The dismal tendency of the age is
manifested in aristocratic as well as in
plebeian circles. It Is reported that the
ex-King of Hanover is very fond of
walking about his house in the night
time, wrapped in a shroud; and when
overcome by fatigue is accustomed to
repose sweetly in a commodious coffin.
These cheerful amusements he defends
ou the ground that he is not alive at all,
but really dead, though it is not stated
that he exhibits any desire to be buried.
This illogical inconsistency, under the
circumstances, is certainly greatly to be
deplored by his friends.
There are many men, on the other
hand, who, though dead, do not recog
nize the fact. Their names will readily
occur to the thoughtful reader. Among
them are several once "leading" poli
ticians who are haunting the scenes of
former greatness utterly obvious of the
fact that everybody else is obvious of
them. There are authors who subsist
on the recollections of dead and forgot
ten books, and who yet fondly think
they are still remembered. They do
not wander about in sheets—not even
in the long-neglected proof-sheets of
other days—but they wear the garb of
the period, and read the newspapers
and deplore the deterioration - of the
world at large. All this is the result of
that happy law of compensation by
which the universe is manaved. The
people who think they are dead, though
they are quick, are perhaps more than
numerically balanced by those who,
thinking themselves alive, are practi
cally defunct.
About Sleep
The immediate antecedents of sleep—
as languor, a sensation of weight in the
upper eyelids, partial temporary relax
ation of certain muscles, as shown by
the nodding and dropping_of the head
„ 1 ,,,,,111G 1,1 ca..st, co - Lupo...live OULLizc
ness of external impressions, yawning,
etc., call for no very special remark.
The order in which the muscles lose their
power is, however, deserving of a pass
ing notice. The mucles which move
the arms and legs usually bectime relax
ed before those which maintain the
body in an erect position. There are,
however, many exceptions to this rule,
as may be seen, in church on a hot Sun
day, when some of the congregation are
almost certain to be seen with their chins
quietly resting on their chests, but yet
tightly grasping their prayer-books.
Moreover, in relation to the special
senses, that of sight is first lost, the clos
ing of the eyelids setting up a barrier
between the retina and the external
world ; but, independently of the eye
lids—lf they have been removed by the
surgeon, or cannot be closed through
disease—the sight is still the first sense
whose function is abolished. Some ani
mals, as the hare, do not shut their eyes
when asleep; and in cases of somnam
bulism, the eyes remain open, although
the sense of sight is temporarily lost.
The other senses, as Dr. Hammond tells
us, are not altogether abolished ; but
their acuteness is much lessened. Taste
is the first to disappear, and then smell,
hearing follows, and touch is the most
persistent of the senses. So, conversely,
a person is most easily awakened by
touch, next in order by sound, andtheu
by smell. -
Sleep is much modified by habit. Thus
an old artilleryman often enjoys tran
quil repose while the cannon are thun
dering around, an engineer has been
known to fall asleep within a boiler,
while his fellows were beating it on the
outside with their ponderous ham
mers ; and the repose of a miller is no
wise incommoded by the noise of his
mill. Sound ceases to be a stimulus to
such men, and what would have
proved an inexpressible annoyance to
others, is by them altogether unheed
ed. It is common for carriers to sleep
on horseback, and coachmen on their
coaches. During the battle of the Nile,
some boys fell asleep on the deck amid
the deafening thunder of that dreadful
engagement. Nay, silence itself may
become a stimulus while a sound ceases
to be so. Thus, a miller being very ill,
his mill was stopped that he might not
be disturbed by its noise ; but this, so
far from inducing sleep, prevented it
altogethef; and it did not take place
until the mill was set agoing. For
the same reason, the manager of
some vast iron -works, who slept
close to them, amid the incessant
din of hammers, forges and furnaces,
would awake if there was any cessation
of the noise during the night. To carry
the illustration still further, it has been
noticed that a person who falls asleep
near a church, the bell of which was
ringing, may not hear the sound during
the whole of hisslumber, and be never
the less aroused by its sudden cessation.
Here sleep must have been imperfect,
otherwise be would have been sensi
ble to the sound. The noise of the bell
was not stimulus ; it was its cessation
which, by breaking (the monotony, be
came so, and caused the sleeper to
awake.
Sabba-Day, or Noon•llouses
At Townsend Centre there is still
standing otie of those relies of a former
time, a "Sabba-Day or Noon-House."
Before the modern conveniences of
stoves and furnaces for warming
churches, it was very desirable, after
attending service in a cold meeting
house to have some place during in
termission where the sufferers could
go and warm themselves and eat their
lunch. .Some used to go to neighboring
houses that were kindly opened for par
ticular friends; others went to the tav
ern, which always kept au open door
and an open bar ; others built for them
selves what were called " Sabba-Day,
or Noon-Houses."
The pastor of ' the • Congregational
Church in Townsend, in a recent his
torical discourse describes these houses.
Like the one now standing at Town
send, they consisted of four MOWS, ten
or twelve feet square, with a lire-place
in each:room. Theyweregenerallytuilt
at the united -expense •of four 'or more
persOns; to be'ccupied. only on the Sab
bath by' their respective fainilles,and
'anal guests as they invited them.
Dry fuel was kept on hand ready for
kindling tires, 'and utually ra barrel of
•Otet ftif Och - fmnilyrwas plee.d . in the
Ott the morning of the Sabbatt,. the
owner of each room deposited Innis sad
dld-bitgEi the niceteary'refreidrients for
. the'sannttarY. HS 'lint Called at 'his
; noon-house, thilt 4. fire, depesited
hincheon, Wqriti4dhlrOself, and family,,
t Wandifp ' they Were ,
sallY forth andtcstillt: ifi 'the
i r dApirtgp4MOridqg. ler* 6:tit'thia
drWOMMP4t rconlllo l itt4rn s ,
"itoon-fteaileYWltti intited
• .. • . ,
friends, where n warm room-,received
them. The' saddle-bags were now
brought forth, -and contents
discharged • on the: table, •of - .which
all partook a Little. ~Then .each
turn drank from the pitcher or mugs
of cider which had , been brought
from - the cellar. This service being
performed and thanks returned, the re
maining time was spent in reading notes
and discussing the morning sermon, a
chapter -from the Bible or some, other
book of religious character; not unfre
quently prayer was offered before retir
ing again to the sanitnary for the after
noon worship. At the close of the ser
vices of theafternoon, if the weather was
severely cold the family returned to the
noon-house to warm themselves before
going home. The fires were then ex
tinguished, the saddle-bags gathered up,
the house locked, and all returned
home.
The exercises, after lunch, here de
scribed, were much more appropriate
for the Sabbath, than those in modern
time of warmed churches and Sabbath
Schools, connected with "horse-shed"
and "horse-book classes," which some
can remember, and which even now ex
ist, which were mostly discussions about
the weather, the crops, the Improve
ments in stocks, politics and such mat
ters.—Boston Tra vc//cr.
Harrison's Grave
Those who can recall the political
campaign of 1840 appreciate the remark
of a gentleman, that if he were ten years
younger he would never have known
the truth of those times, because, with
out having witnessed them himself, he
would never have believed their history.
During the height of the canvass, con
versation among all classes, to the re-
mutest settlements, among men, women
and children, was mixed with politics,
where it was net politics unmixed. No
child that could halloo was ineligible to
political fellowship, or insensible of his
or her party status. Women had log
cabins printed on neck-ribbons and
bonnet-strings, and sometimes coon
tails appended to their reticules ;
while no male person not willing to
be classed a "locofoco" appeared in
public without a buckeye cane, by way
of bravado and ornament. Likewise,
Democrats sported hickory canes, with
green nuts bigger than eggs hanging to
the knob. Processions of the "British
Whigs" were always headed by a real
log cabin on wheels, in which the pion
eer settler would be simulated, with his
hunting shirt on, rifle in hand, wife at
work about the house, and a baby rol
licking In a sugar trough, the typical
cradle of the far West of early days. A
barrel of hard cider was conspicuous;
buck horns straddled from the stick-and
mud chimney ; coon skins were nailed
outside on the walls to dry, and from
the clap-board door a large leather
latchstring alwasy hung out, in token
of hospitality. In the way of bunt
ing, no pitch of loyalty during our
late war ever covered the sky of noon so
with the sunset hues of our national en
sign. The country, in fact, was frantic.
The outlays of money ; were lavish to
passionateness. The aggregate, especi
ally on the part of the Whigs, must
have been enormous. The honors paid
to their candidate were so absurdly ex
travagant that old Whigs to this day
are twitted by old Democrats, as If they
had ;been caught in some excessively
puerile thing. Such was 1840. In this
year, 1871, at North Bend, Ohio, the
aged politician may go to measure the
utter folly of partisan excess and the
vanity of :partisan honors. Near the
centre of a field a simple brick structure
mostly below the surface, and rapidily
decaying, with a door having a
broken hinge, secured with a shil
ling padlock, contains the remains
of William Henry Harrison. There are
several receptacles in this vault, in three
of which are the General, his wife, and
his daughter. They are rudely closed
with brick, and no inscription is any
where about the place. The arched roof
is about to fall, and the whole will then
of a President and the bricks mingling,
as if he had been a chief of the lost Abor
igines commemorated with the savage
simplicity of a pile of stones. But on
such mounds, the great trees growing
attest the ages which have not obliter
ated the marks of veneration, while
here, it was but yesterday that a million
of us wore badges of mourning over the
death of our chief, and to-day we care
lessly leave his body to the ploughshare
of a few years hence. Will the white
haired men who, in their prime, poured
thelreloquence into theloud enthusiasm
of 1840, and who recall with mournful
pride those days of purer life and loftier
intellect among public men, permit this
disgrace ?
How to Get the Men to Church
" My dear parson, I am delighted with
youf sentiments," said the professor,
confidentially, as they walked together
into. the smoking-room. " They have
given me so much pleasure, that in re
turn I must communicate to you an im
portant secret. It's a scheme I have
long entertained for setting the Church
of England ou its legs again."
"sir!" ejaculated the divine, Indig
nantly. "It can stand perfectly well
without your help, Ido assure you. The
religious census returns—"
" My good sir," interrupted the pro
fessor, "that counts the ladies. There
is no doubt whatever that a great num
ber of females do attend the services of
the church; but, unhappily, if you
glance round you, even from your own
pulpit, you see many more bonnets than
bare heads. Come, confess t. The men
don't come as they should do."
" Well, then—for argument's sake—
they don't."
" Just so. Now, I've a plan to make
them."
"Some new fangled absurdity of yours,
professor, I'm afraid."
" Not at all, my dear sir. I propose
to revive an old and revered custom,
which is spoken of by Sir Walter Scott
as being in use in some of the out-of-the
way kirks in Scotland—those, I sup
pose, above the pass.' If you will only
adopt it, I promise you would get nine
male hearers where you now get one.—
It is nothing wrong, as you think; it's
something we are just about to do our
selves." Here the professor dropped his
voipe to a stage whisper—" 'em
smoke'"
Too Poor
Moore, of the Rural Sew-Yorker, was
sitting in his office, one afternoon some
years ago, when a farmer friend came in
and said : " Mr. Moore, I like your pa
per, but times are so hard I cannot pay
for it"
"Is that so, friend Jones? I'm very
sorry to hear that you are so poor; if
you are so hard run I will give you my
paper."
Oh, no! I can't take it as a gift."
"Well, then, let's see how we can fix
It. You raise chickens, I believe ?"
" Yes, a few, but they don't bring
anything, hardly.
Don't they? Neither does my paper
cost anything, hardly. Now I have a
proposition to make to you. I will con
tinue your paper, and when you go
home you may select from your lot one
chicken and call her mine. Take good
care of her and bring me the proceeds,
whether in eggs or chickens, and we
will call it square."
" All right, brother Moore ;" and the
old fellow chuckled at what he thought
a capital bargain. He kept the contract
strictly, and at the end of the year found
that he had paid about four prices for
paper. He often tells the joke on him
self, and says he never has had the face
to say he was too poor to take a paper
since that day."—Model Farmer.
A Catholic Priest of Norwich, Conn.,
has sued a physician of that toWn for
forcibly expelling-him from the room of
a dying parishioner.
A learned colored American legisla
tor in the Louisiana House of Repre
sentatives, on being reprimanded for a
"breach of decorum" for saying of an
other member " dat tier nigger is a dam
liar, and frovi shoot down his front
if - he open's datbay of *Santana again,
Indignantly Replied, " daris.no britches
off de Korum. It am still slain. ready,
to do business.",,Send him to Congress.
He's wanted " up higher."
" I shall tell you how. It vas. I drink
mine lagei; .den I put mine hand on
mine head and,dere - vas von pain: Den
put"mine Aland on- mine dyyand
dere vas anoder Den '.l put-my
hand,ln mine pocket, and dare, vaa not
ing,..
80.1 jine, mit_ de dempeninee.
'Now (Isere' is po pain' more' in mine heal'
'iuid' ' pain' in mine body Vasi alltbritti
Iputliniteishantb Mglllooket y :
Mistileftwas dweAty,dollaF.-,::l3§lialtairf
mit de demueran ce , ' cra.
NUlM3ai 20
- - _
FV" e . •
If 'ilmaibtless nn
,iog and trifficile-aged
things, Who want-M. get' Married 'before
they have the peennlary . wharewithal to
jusgty the . mancenvre cannot behinghed
out of their folly bYthn,ditions Vt. tiatiie
and burlesque, they may • *Saltily - fid'
some serious, wise suggestion:ln what clad
Poughkeepsee Nagle relates of an, M r iprOvil.
dent lovesuit which began Where auch'ro-
Mantle adventures too often end: In ,the
Dutchess County Poorhouse, says this au
' thority, there resided for
- seven years two
`victims of financial Scarcity nettled Jere.:
miah Morris and Ellen Cronin°, who, al
though quite old and impecunicina enough
to know better, allowed the celebrated in
fant maniac, casually known as Cupid; to
infect them with this proverbial insanity,
and delude them with visions of a future
in which pecuniary exigencies should be
Conveniently unknown. Parsons know
how it is themselves when the disease
has reached this alarming crisis, The
superintendent of the forlorn institu
tion saw how it was, and, In the most
friendly manner, remonstrated with the
penniless creatures. He draw attention to
to the difficulties frequently experienced
by individuals undertaking housekeeping
without a cent in their pockets; bat his
answer was a quotation in poetry and a re
quest for the discharge of respondent and
his ladylove. Though this request could
not be at once oo in piled within consequence
of some gross mercenary scruples on the
part of the county authorities, the courtship
went on with sentimental fervor. Mr.
Morris, who is probably an ex-auditor,
uuderatands several foreign languages;
Miss Croniue can do painting and embroid
ery; and the conversation of the pair has
its intellectual as well as fond delights.
Finally, a week ago, the lady—who was in
the hospital of the institution—wrote, and
managed to have delivered to her disinter
ested suitor, a note to the following arch
effect.
Darling Jerry : I am feigning sick to-day,
so as to pull the wool over the oyes of those
who are watching us. Darling, I've got
my clothes all ready, and will meetyou to
night near the mad-house, when t.vo can
sneak along the wall to Collins' Stumnit,
where we can take the I lira for Fishkill,
and there go on board the steamboat for
New York. God bless you, my dear;
don't fail me. Write me an answer and
give it to this little girl. Be calm ; , be sum
Not at all warned from his purpose by
the rather sinister circumstance of a "mad
house- being the hind mark of a projected
meeting, the male pauper responded blithe-
Good, Noble I gave three cheers
inside of me when I road your note. Don't
take too much clothing, for you know I'll
work my life away for you as soon as we
get to Elizabethport. I will be at the mad
house at 9 o'clock, r. 31. It won't do to go
direct to the station. We can go there
early in the morning and take the first
train. I sin afraid Dr. Thorn suspects us;
he is eyeing me closely all the time, but
they cannot part us. I must have you or
die. Good bless you, Ella. I'll boon time.
And the scheme succeeded, screams the
Eagle for, on the following day, the es
caping lovers made their way to Elizabeth
port, and wore married. Nu cards.
==l
An instance of the renewal in sleep of an
impression of memory calling up an ap
parition to enforce it (It is the impression
which causes the apparition, not the appar
ition which conveys the impression) oc
curred near Bath half a century ago, and
is related by Miss Cobb() in an article on
Unconscious Cerebration," 'in the last
number of Macmillan .e Magazine. Sir
John Miller, a very wealthy gentleman,
died leaving no children. His widow had
always understood that she was to have
the use of his house for her life, with a very
large Jointure; but no will snaking such
provision could be found after his death.
The heir-at-law, a distant connexion, nat
urally claimed his rights, but kindly al
lowed Lady Miller to remain for six
mouths iu the house to complete her search
for the missing papers. The six months
drew at last to a close, and the poor widow
had spent fruitless days and weeks in ex
amining every possible place of deposit for
the lost document, till at last she came to
the conclusion that her memory must have
deceived her, and that her husband could
have made no such promise as she suppos
ed, or have neglected to fulfil it had lie
made one.
The very last day of her tenure of the
very
JUSIo LIR%
of the morning Lady Miller drove np to
the door of her man of business in Bath,
and mailed excitedly to his bed-room door,
calling out, "Come to me! I have soon
Sir John! There is a will!" The lawyer
hastened to accompany her back to her
house. All she could tell him was that her
deceased husband had appeared to her in
the night, standing by her bedside, and had
said solemnly, "There is a will I" Where
it was, remained as uncertain as before.
Once more the house was searched in vain
from cellar to loft, till finally wearied and
in despair the lady and her friend found
themselves in a garret at the top of the
house. "it is all over," Lady Miller said;
"I give it up; my husband deceived me,
and lam ruined !" At that moment she
looked at the table over which she was
leaning, weeping. "This table was in his
study once! Let us examine it!" They
looked, and the missing will, duly signed
and sealed, was within it, and the widow
was rich to the end of her days. It needs
no conjuror to explain how her anxiety
called up the myth of Sir John Miller's ap
parition, and made him say precisely what
he had once before really said to her, but
of which memory had waxed faint.
THE TOOB OF 1101:GL.1S
The Little Giant's Grave Attaehen.
The imperial ashes of the Little Corporal
and the plebeian ashes of the Little Giant
are alike the subjects of unseemly clamor.
The former it is proposed to scatter to the
dogs, the latter to remove unless they are
paid for. The fantastic doings of the
Paris Commune, in turning to pecuniary
account the monumental records of the
glories of France, Chicago improves upon
in a fashion that must rend the heart
of Tammany with impotent anguish.—
It is known that Stephen A. Douglas
found rest for his mortal remains in
Chicago, and it is furthermore kuovrn that
various ambitious corporations have from
time to time made boast of the obelisk that
should arise to commemorate his achieve
ments. On the strength of these represen
tations lovers of liberty and those not un
mindful of the inexpensive fame of figur
ing in public bequests, came to the rescue,
and it was hoped Chicago's monument
might come:to an end. But alas I here we
have the City Collector assessing the states
mau's ashes for improvements in the
vicinity of their present sepulcher. The
obdurate corpse refuses to pay the amount,
$2,200, for lamps and curb-stones, and the
outraged official at once notifies the City
Council his determination to sell the un
monumented tenement "for debt." It
might be suggested that Chicago secure
the column from the Place Vendome, and,
according the honor denied by France,
mingle the ashes of the Little Corporal and
the Little Giant in one tomb, with the grand
column above, to prove once for all that
this Republic is not without gratitude to its
politicians and honor to its profits.
Jeff. Davie' .71111sInelooll Estante now own
ed by One of his Former Slaves.
A letter to the Chicago Tribune describes
a visit made in company with Mr. Jeffer
son Davis, to ' the plantation formerly
owned by him in Mississippi. The writer
sa w sy :
We left at night on the R. E. Lee,
one
of our finest steamers, and landed et the
Hurricane plantation about daylight the
next morning. This plantation, and an
other known as Deerfield, were occupied
before the war by J. E. Davis and his
brother, President Davis. They were sold
to a favorite freedman, Ben. Montgomery,
for $200,000, payable at the end of ten years,
(Ist January, 1876,) interest at six per cent.
payable annually., Ben, who is very black,
but thoroughly educated before the war,
met Ds and gave um a breakfast, waiting on
the table himself, but not offering to take
a seat. After breakfast we bad a carriage
and rode over the magnificent estate, the
extent of which you can form some idea
when 1 tell you that Ben Montgomery
made last year 2,500 bales of cotton and a
large quantity of corn. We dined at Deer
field, the former residence of Jefferson
Davis, and now occupied as a residence by
the aforesaid Ben, and you will not be sur
prised to learn that the former slaves of
Mr. Davis greeted him with all the warmth
of affection which they were capable of ex
pressing. Mr. Davis met them cordially,
and encouraged them by many kind words.
After dinner, at which our wealthy host,
again waited on us in elegant. style, we
passed on to a very lame. and valuable
plantation which has been purchased by
Ben Montgomery and added to the Days
estate, and which will add to his crop this
year probably 1,000 bales more, making
3,5136 in ell, if it is a good crop."
A Gas-Main Broken and the Remedy.
In •GeinisiMotihn , Monday,' While work. ,
men were engaged in blastin the rocks on .
Rittenhouse street, preparatory to laying a.
new dater main; the'gtur-thein in the street
Was iiroken'bq the foreabf . the +explosion,
The main, which. ts sizibohes in digneter,
was broken short oft," and 'the gas escaping
through the earth; Watt . Itfulted - in some
way, and burned for several Lours. Water
had to be poured on the earth to 000 l be!,
fore" the workmen could could get at the "Ise •
maitrtoratogthe leakage.: 'r bi
eeode of so .
doing isburions: holaqia. bored , the
: main about p. quarter of an. Malkin
thienghwhleh tibradderis prettied Int 6
eketitA'T.hßifiladefir‘aftekiwicribiltiflat. ,
ei4_ oo lxTlete/r llti,pre
venting he eseertPf fILINiii : ~i ) -:163
RATE OF ADVERTISING
BIISERIUSS ADIrraTISIDECNTS, $l2 a year per
" re at terlitzlea: le per year for each addl..
thonal Kaye.
I
gerArrati6ll.446 - ,10 ninth aline for
__She first, and 6 eentator each subsequent in
.
(Mena's, ADVNIITninta, 7 cents a line for the
- arst. FAA op A ttAtA each subsequent inner
alltOtAZNColl62l 11121eerted; In Local Columns
. 116 auras Per line.:
. .
BPAcntp,,Narzcnos.preoeding mirringeß and
oleaths,, Mk cents er line for tint Insertion.
"ad 5 Maraft rvvery embsequept. Insertion.
. La "EtreCtitote
0 bottom.. 2 50
Adialtitstratons , notice 2 Ti))
Auditors'
Orther'Notiqes," ten lines, or leB3,
I 50
A NOVEL IDEA
GeneraLPleamoitmea Theory of the Dif
ference of Chezialcal Power to the Sull'o
RaYA*lnterestinif litimerltueo to.
At thb regular • Monthly ,mooting of the
,P,ennaylvania Society for .promoting agri
culture, held last week, General Pleasan
ton
read an' able slid Interesting essay on
the usemf.blue glass in the development of
vegetable and animal life :
The General give an account ofan exper
iment of his own with a grapery of 84 by 2t;
.feet, and 16 feet in height at the ridge.
Into the glaring of the grapery, at every
"seventh_ row of white panes, a row of violet
panes (blue' not being at tho Limo procura
ble) had been introduced, alternating on
opposite sides of the roof, so that a violet
beam might fall eventually on every leaf
to Use grapery. 'rho cuttings planted had
grown vapidly. The gardener was kept
busy daily in tying up now wood whieli
the day before he had not observed. In a
few weeka after planting, thowails and the
inside of the roof were closely envoi ed with
luxurant foliage. A distinguished seeds
man has borne his testimony that he had
never aeon any vines that equalled those
thus treated.
The vines were planted In April, ISM. In
18112 they bore a wonderful number of
branches. It was found that the building,
email as it was, contained no lees then
twelve hundred pounds of grapes. In ISt;:t
the amount of fruit was quite as large as
during the preceding year, and so it had
continued season after season without
abatement, the vines seeming to require no
time to rest.
The next experiment was with the pig •
gory. A glazed roof half white and half
violet was placed over the building, and
similar results were obtained, the animals
thriving beyond expectation.
An Alderney calf, so puny and feeble
that Its life was despaired of, was placed In
a pen under violet glass. In 21 hours
marked change had occurred. Iho calf
rose to its feet, walked about the pen, took
its food from the linger, and manifested
great vivacity. In a few days Its feeble
ness had disappeared; it began to grow,
and its development was marvellous.
The same principles have been applied
to the raising of poultry with the most re
markable SUM l'hiladelp h ict
graph.
A Dospernte Horse-Thief.
A correspondent of the Lynchburg R,
publican, writing from Lovingaton, N &soil
county, gives the following particulars of
an encounter with a horse-thief: Our little
village was thrown into considerable ex
citement last night through an attempt to
arrest a negro horse-thief, in which two of
our citizens were painfully and seriously
wounded by pistol shots at the hands or
the thief. Just about dark ho rode up to
the hotel of Major 0. Loving, where ho was
halted and questioned. It was soon ascor •
tamed that he was a thief, and that the
horse was stolen. Major Loving informed
him that ho would have to stop—ho had
then dismounted—but when told that ho
could not leave, ho attempted to got the
horse, which was resisted by the gentlema n
having him in hand. Major Loving then
requested the bystanders to arrest him, at
the same time making for him, whereupon
the negro drew a largo navy or army pistol,
and commenced to ruu down the street or
road leading from Lovington to the
depot, then at the same time looking back
and levelling his pistol ho tired upon Major
Loving, the ball taking effect about half an
inch above the knee-pan of the right log,
and passing some three inches through the
Hash.
The major received the wound In a stoop
ing position, and when he attempted to re
cover himself he could not do so, but fell
to the ground, the muscle of the log having
been severed by the passage of tho ball.
The negro continued his flight down the
bill, and when near the bridge and resi
dence of Mr. George V. Case, ho met Mr.
James Roberts, returning from his supper
at Colonel Burton's, and Mr. R. hearing
the cry to " arrest that man," wont for the
negro, and, when within about four feet of
him, the negro fired upon him, and his
escape from instant death was most won
derful. It seems that he had some silver
and copper coin in his breeches pocket, and
the ball striking those, appears to have
been diverted downward,• and entered the
thigh about one and a half inches below the
groin, and about the one-eighth of an inch
to the left of the femoral artery. His phy
sician has probed the wound, but cannon
find the ball.
Tho wounding of our citizens prevented
immediate pursuit, and the scoundrel made
his escape.
A Clergyman Murdered In hie Pallid'.
From the New Ern, Fort Smith, Arir., A 101 l
The most dastardly outrage heard of for
a long time was perpetrated last Saturday
at Chocqville, a quiet and flourishing vii
-1 age in the southern part of this county near
the Indian line. We have the following
particulars from the Hon. E. E. Hender
son, Superintendent of Public Instruction
for this district, who returned last evening
from it visit to Waldron, and passed th ro g
Chocoville yesterday as the murdered now
was buried. On Saturday morning as the
Rev. Mr. Do Champ, of the M issionary Bap
flat, Church at Choooville, was about to open
religious service, and while the congrega
tion was still gathering, a mitten named
Handley entered the meeting-house, re
volver in hand, and approaching the in in -
ister, asked him his name. On being told,
Handley levelled his revolver nt Mr. De
Clamp and tired four shots at him, three of
which took effect in the head and one in the
arm. The demoniac assassin then wheeled
round, and levelling his revolver at the
congregation, drove them out of the house
with curses and imprecations and throats of
death. The affrighted people, of course,
hastily fled in every direction. The mur
derer then leaped upon his horse, tied idose
to the building, and galloped oil. Ile has
not yet been captured.
As to the cause of the murder, the follow -
Ing is told: The Men Handley who has pre
viously borne a notoriously bad character,
some four years ago interrupted in the
most scandalous manner a religions meet
ing at which the unfortunate Do Champ
officiated, for which offence the latter had
him indicted before the Grand Jury, tried,
and fined $5O. Handley went off to Texas
soon afterwards, where his deviltries ale,
made It too hot for him, and from whence
he returned recently, to imbrue his bands
in the blood ofa good man in the appalling
manner stated. Great excitement exists
all through the county at the fearful deed.
OUTRAGE IN omo
A Mao Routed Over a Slow Fire
The Mahoning (Ohio) Bcgisfer says:—
Mr. Wm. Murrin is an aged man living in
Coltsville, near the State line. Ho has con
siderable means. Ho gave two hundred
acres of land to the establishment of a con
vent In Bedford, and was supposed to keep
a large sum of money In the house whore
he lived alone, and remote from any other
human being. On Saturday night the list
of April, three men entered his house soil
aroused him from his bed, and demanded
that lie should show them where his mon
ey was, threatening that if ho did not they
would murder him. Such threats induced
Mr. Murrin to tell them where they would
find a little over fifty dollars in gold and
silver, which was all ho had in the house.
This they took, but were not satisfied.
Believing that there was more money
about the house, notwithstanding his as
surance to the contrary, they kindled a lire
in tho stove sod hold Mr. Merlin over it,
subjecting him to a slow torture of the
moat painful kind. They persisted in this
torture till they found that they could get
no more plunder, when they left their vic
tim in horrible pain on the bed, and de
parted. In the morning Murrin managed
to reach the nearest neighbor's house and
told his story. Search was at once institu
ted for the desperadoes. The old gentle
man waa not able to give any exact de
scription of his torturers, and therefore the
search is somewhat futile. Suspicion has
been placed on one or two bad characters
who were seen in this vicinity a day or
two previous, but no information could be
obtained to justify any arrests.
Remarkable Actions of a Blind Man.
In Iloneybrook township Chester county
lives a man named Jesse Iluchanan, now
67 years old, who became blind at the age
of seven years, front an attack of fever.
This man has lived In Honey brook all Ilk
life, and although blind has been very use
ful. He haika great love for Imdrovements
has built several houses, barns, itc., part
of the wood-work of which was of his own
construction. He now occupies one of them.
Situated on the South side of what la known
as the Welsh Mountain, about three miles
from Waynesburg, on the road leading
from Waynesburg to Morgantown, his cots
-are located among the trees of the moue.
taro .with no direct road to it, yet ho can
find his home at any time without the
slightest aid from any one. lie can pass
from one place to another for a distance of
four or five miles in his own neighborhood;
knows, the different residences of his n ei g h
bent as soon as he approaches them ; knows
the. volotta of the different persons with
whom he is acquainted, and in many in
stances their footsteps. He can tell the dif
ferent kinds, of timber; make a shaking
fork; bloom or axe handle. Can hang an
axe ; chop wood; and when done his day's
work, will hide his axe and return to the
woods on the following day and find it, un
leSs Meted by some one. He can load hay,
and-when younger, was a good hand to
bind grain. His health is very good, and
he can be seen going along to and from
planes Where he has business. The above
may seem incredible to. your readers, but
,84743 6 0 salt/1164'.000M. Ufa true, as he has
`net' only, - told me; bat those who have
known hint :from their boyhood.
I.; Nostak„Conn.,lbOaste. of a three-eyed
pa,Agndl,trumitrich •• 1 119w L is. that for
• , ,