Centre Democrat. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, May 15, 1879, Image 2
Poetic Answers. what is rom ciiaractrr? A rare compound ol oddity, frolic and lan, To rclUh a |oko and rejoioo in a pun. —(.iohUmilh. That ot tlie epicure, who, eerenoly fill, may say, Rate ennnot harm mo; I have dined to-day. —Swift. Luxurious avaricious, laUe, dccoitlul, Sullen, malicious, smacking of every sin that lias a name. —Shakespeare. wii vt is torn cmxv atthactios? Thou hunt tlie sweetest lace I ever looked on. 1 —Shakespeare. Hood sense which only is the gift ot Heaven, And though no science, lairiy worth tlie seven —Pope. A lortn so fair, that like the air Tie less of earth than heaven. —K. K. Pinkney. He is so full of pleasant anecdote, 8o rich, so gny, so poignant in his wit : Time vanishes before him as he s|>enks, And ruddy morning through the lattice peep* —Joanna lluillie. WHAT DO Toll I.IKK tIKNT. 'that all-sol toning, overpowering knell. The tocsin ol the soul —the dinner liell. —Byron. A slight flirtation by the light ola obandolier. With music to play in the pausw And nobody very near. —Willis. Cold • (told ! (Jold ! Ootd ! Bright and yellow, hard and cold. —Hood. ' Hive me kisses ! all is waste save the luxury o the taste, And lor kissing—kisses live only w hen we take or give, me, then, V ! gvery moment—and again. —J (J. Saxe. WHAT IK> TOC PISUKR MOST' ("if every bore, It to Uie list you add a score, Are not so bail, upon my lile. As thai one scourge, a scolding wile. —Beroi. ! Coarse speech, had grammar, wwnng, Drinking, vice. —llolmc*. Drunkenness, whose vile incontinence Take both away, the reason snd the sense. It drown* Uie better parte, making the name t To foes a laughter, to Iricmbt a shame. —Kandolph Home-made physic that sickens the sick, Thick tor thin and thin lor thick, —llood. who is Torn ivrKsnap? A ported woman nobly planned, To warn, to comfort and command, And yet a spirit still and bright. With something of an angel's light. —Wordsworth. A judge, a man so learned, So full ol equity, so noble—envy Itself cannot accuse, or malice vitiate. —Cliapinan and Shirley. A hungry, lenn-faced villain, A mere anatomy, a mountebank, A thread-Wire juggler, and fortune-teller, A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch. —Shakespeare. A roaebud set with willlul thorn* A* sweet n* English air can make her. —Tennyson. 1 what is ton ninnasT ammtio*? To go to church to-lay, To look devout and seem to ptay, And ere to-morrow's sun goes down Be dealing slander through the town. —Mr*. Sigouroey. To drees as the nobles dress. In cloth of *ilvor and gold. With silk aad satin and enatly lura In many an ample fold. —Hood. Oh, grant me, Heaven, a middle state, Neither too humble, nor too great, More than enough (or nature's ends, With something lelt to treat my friend*. -Mallet. Oh, gin me the lass that hae acres of charm*; Ob, gie me loss wi the weel stockit farm ' —Burn*. Then let me get money as bee* lay up honey ; 111 build new hives and store each cell, The sight ol my tieasure will yield me great pleasure, 111 count it, and chink it, and jingle it well, —Dr. Franklin. WHAT IS TOC* VAVOBTT* VbOWRR? Magnifleent raila, in mantle of milk. --Mrs. Signurney. The ehate enmelias pure and spotless bloom, That toasts no fragrance and conceal* no thorn. —William Iloaros. And (juth that a thousand ills can brave Speaks in thy blue leaves, "forget-me-not." —Percival. Koe, thou art the sweetest flower. —Burns. ntr is th* char act** or roc* nrr**i>*D f She takes the most delight In music, instruments and poetry. —Shakespeare. The solemn lop, significant am) hedge, A fool with ju'lges, and among fools a judge, —Cowper. She has read her lather * well-Ailed library with profit. And can t*lk charmingly: she can sing And piny, too, passably, and dance with spirit Mm is knowing in all needlr-work; And shine* in kitchen a* well as parlor. —J. N. Barker. He in a scholar, and a ripe and good one, Kseeediugly wise, lair Sfsiken and persuading. —.thakespcore. WHAT I* TOC* IIKSTIXT ? Never wedding, never wooing, Mill a lovelorn heart pursuing. —Campbell. To lie a man ol rank and of capacious soul To riches have, ami lame beyond desire. Ami Imir to flsttery, to titles born And reputation and Inxurions life. —Hohert Bollock. Single ns a stray glove, minus its mate. —Fanny Kemble. WIIRR* WIU TOI'R HOMK HR? Wktf liensts with man divided empire claim, Aad the brown Indian marks with murderous aim- —(ioldsmith. Where from the rise ol morn to set of Run The mighty Mohawk runs, • And the ilark wood* of pine Along hi* mirror darkly shine. —Moor*. In imn enchanted win, WlimhMTOi and lovs thnir Sablmtli hold. —Campbell. DAUGHTER. Mm. Dnl/'ttnnU" hml invilotl ft crowd of people to hour a whlUvlmiml man of lofty artistic pedigree read. She wiui fond of patronizing talent. When Mr. Konthle had given his Sir Anthony Ab solute and Sir l'eter Teazle. Mrs. He IA" tt ante went about among her guest.* and explained that she had still another pleasure in store for them: Miss Hilda Wiese would now recite. Miss Wiose j was a (ÜbuhinU, hut they would see site had great possibilities. Mr. Kern hie had spoken to her of the young , lady, who intended to lieootno n pro- I fessionni reader; he was enthusiastic in , lier praise. So, after a brief interval, a young girl was led forward, who recited por- j lion* of Maine's lH<autiful and touching ' story witn native ease and grace. She j stood in tin- third of the suite of rooms j that opened one into anotlo r. Behind her was a background of white (lowers arranged on graduated st<M>s, a mass of j hyacinths rhmfly and dattodils (it was j spring). She was a (lower of spring herself, with the ineffable glory and j charm of youth nliout her: serene, wide, brow, from which heavy dark hair wan ' | swept to one side; the outlines of her j I fa e pure and harmonious, and strong ! j rather than delicate; in her cheeks the ( fresh, steady color that rarely outlasts : girlhood, bite wore a quaintly simple j I black silk gown, the sleeves cut to the j j elbows and tleeeily milled with white;; ! the same white effect at her throat. Her voice was rich and soft, and full. | Her recitation charmed; there was a I murmur of pleased surprise. When *he ! hml done she simply fell back a step or I two against the tiers of (lowers. She I helped herself to a daffodil, and stisxl carelessly swinging it, listening tosoine ! thing kind which the elocutionist said | to her. I Presently Mrs. lie I/> I tan to came ui> with a tall, fair young man of a studi ous aspect, whom she made' known to 1 Miss YVie.se as Hr. Houglass. As this i young man bowed in acknowledgement I of the introduction, he said to himself, j " Denieter's daughter, fair and free," , out of a swis't rhyme-hook of his sister's. " You gave me a great dml of pleas- j i lire," he said, with a touch of the self. ' j confidence of youth in the worth of its; own praise. "Hid 1? I am very glad." "As for Mrs. lie Is-ttante, she i* ■ fairly ruffled with complacency at hav ing sponsored you." " Mr*. lie Is-ttante has lieen very good to me." " You have repaid her. She is the woman in search of a mission. F**>k i at her now, magnetizing that little dark man with those restless hazel eyes of hem." "She i* very gracious and handsome." ; " Kxtreniely so in her sweeping satin ' robes— Nile gr<s-n you ladii-s call that ; color, do you not?—stately, dark-haired, fair-skinned. I wonder who the ugly little man is?" "Mr. Kemble told me. He i* n Frenchman. a duke. Hi* father was made a duke hv the emperor at Sol- i ferino. He inherits the title." I " PastelKtard nobility." "There has to lie a beginning to every thing. Bravery is its own pedigree. ; Did you ever fiear what Nadir replied j when ' Delhi's throne inquired the an : cestry' of his son? "' My child is noble, tor, though lowljr horn, | He is the son snd grandson of the swonl.' " Her simple enttiusmsm was contagious. "No doubt you anil Nadir— is that j his name?—are right. Here eotnes Mrs. lie Ijcttante with lor duke. He is like : .Jacob—lie halts on his thigh." The Due de Bonne Fortune was prc- Itented in hi* turn. He wa* not unat tractive personage, upon the whole; a* 1 you have gathered, little and dark, and i very lame. He was a man who had , lived in the world and for the world, and I his life had left no impress of any lofty j impulse upon hi* fare; on tlie contrary, there were linesof craft and guile around his mouth and "eye*. ||e wa* no longer young, but t looked older than his; ' actual age. ' Still he howcd traces of 1 the old-world civilization he had sprung from; there was a gay sparkle and vivmity aiiout his conversation which disposed Hilda in bis favor. All women like to lie amuK'd Besides, in her up right vigor she felt a "divine com pas | sion" for his ir firmit v. Dr. Douglass drifted away with Mrs. De Is'ttante, who said, going: " Do you ; know Mrs. Wiese? There site is. ail by herself in that corner, (if course she i* ■ almost a stranger here. I a*k*l her for ! the daughter's sake. I wisli you would ! talk to her." Douglas* agreed readily. Douglass ! was not singular in hi* alacrity to he ; civil to tlie mother nf a beautiful datigli i tcr. And Mrs. Wiese proved to lie charnrng on her own account—literally charming, with the unhackneyed and fresh cheerfulness of n child. She had a j "primrose face"—a phrase | like to bor row from Owen Meredith to descritie n I certain type of fare that never entirely loses its "youth— with ready smiles, and I changing color, and clear eyes, add, in j her ease, sunny chestnut hair (the color ing should lie bright). An ibttllc spark was struck Is'twivn Douglas* a-d j liersi'lf. She like.) young men in a de i light fill, motherly way. that always bore in mind Iter own half-grown hoys. And young men invariably liked her. She talked frankly to Douglass: among other tilings, alxsit her husband's deli cate health and failing sight. Douglass had made a specialty of diseases ol tlie eye. and lent ..I intelligent interest. He said lie should 1m liononsi if Mrs. Wiese would permit him to call upon herself and her hu*lvaml; lie did not add, "and your daughter." although at that very moment Ids gaze was resting on the ealm young Persephone in the next room, who, still idly twirling her snowy daffodil, was talking to the pasteboard ! duke. Istter in the evening Douglass fell in ! again with Mrs. De Lcttonto. "They tell roe," he said, indieating Hilda, j "that that Ftcautlfuf child Is destined for the stage. I confess I am sorry to hear ! " She has a gift. To my thinking, it ! Isdongs to the world." j "And so she will dim lier loveliness behind the footlights, and lose the bloom of her reticence and modesty." ■ " Not necessarily. An ordinary woman might. An aftist is im crsonnl; lier , | own identity is completely merged. , Happy she! Most women's Uvea stag nate for want of an outlet." Douglass csrri*l out his intention of 1 railing upon the Wloses, ami found tliem | living inn house very small, very shabby and forlorn, in tlie Ntiburh* af tiie town. However, Mrs. Wiese and Hilda were more delightful than ever, and Douglas* *aton **ti(T cane-bottomed chair on a ciirjietlcsH floor, and lii* heart sung with in him. It wn* all so unconstrained and bright and pleasant. Fhe father was a musician, a composer, an organist; now, in his feeble condition of body, very querulous and irritalile. Hut Douglass conceived a hope that lie slioiild Ih-able to do something for Id* eye*. Mr. Wie*c was a Herman by birtli; he had never learned to master his wife'* mother tongue. Hut he was exceedingly volu hle in Ids own broken guttural. lie never wearied of pouring lilt) complaint* into Douglas*' ears. And Douglass listened with exemplary patience—nay. Interest—for Hilda's sake. Yes, for Hilda's sake. It had come to that. He had yielded to a sentimental fancy at first sight; now. at second and [ third sight, lie hud fallen in love des- i perately, with an absorbing energy j which colored his whole nature, impart- j ing sinew and muscle to Ids ambition. It seemed to him now that he had never known before what was genuine ambi tion. He grew feverish with Impatience, j H<- was a poor man; lie c-oulu barely ! supnort hit*clf. If lie should suj>- jmrt a wife, it must be in tlie simplest, | plainest way. Would Hilda he willing? j in marrying, Hilda would he called upon to make more special sacrifices than most j women make when they marry. He al most feared that she would "never like him well enough to make these sacrifices for liiin. He knew that Hilda was meanwhile studying hard, preparing forh'-r arduous profession. Besides, she was giving les son* in elocution. Poor little thing! How ho long'd to work for them both! H>- was with In-r eons'antly; after a while, every evening. '1 hose delicious spring day* suggested country t ambles, lioating—anything which furnished an e v use for fa-ing together. As for Hilda, she (tared not Mop to realize how happy she was in this constant companion ship. Sim dared not realize tluit sin sitnjily delightui in lite liecause it brought Douglass to herat the end of tin long days. Tltose days were shared almost as in variably with M. De Honnc Fortune, lb-liad followed up his aequaintaneea* vigorously a* hail Douglass, appearing at the Wieses'dingy littb- hou*.- fa-hind a jiair of superb black steeds in gold mounted lianu-ss. 11. whirled Hilir-iofT in this showy equipage one fine day. Her father stood in the little doorway looking after them, shading hi* inflamed eye* with his hand. " lie i* in luf in it Hilda. 1 can sec dat," lie said loins wife. " It vill pea g*>t ting for u* alle." Mr*. \Viese's hriglit face clouded. Her own choice for lu-r daughter would Is- a different one. Nor had -Ie- failed to rio tiee the ligliting Up of Hilda's fan- wln n Douglass eauie and went. Mr. WW was right. M lb-Bonne Fortune hail fallen in love wit It Hilda. It was nothing to liitn who -lie was. who her people were. Site would be afiove eritu inn a* the Duehi-is de lionne Fortune. lie determined to niarry lu-r from theOUt-et. Herotisidered it hardly prohalile tiiat the fju-ls tliat he was yel low and wizened and lame, and Hilda's s-.nior hy certainly fifteen or twenty years, would weigh in tlie Imlanei against the advantage* of his title and hi* wealth. Nor iliil they when it rame to the point. It sinned to lu-r that it wa* lu-r duty to aetiqit him. Ilerfatlier iiad said as much to her from time to time during the week* that the dtlke's black 1 burgers ■wept lii* glittering chariot to and from town. Moreover, the duke made liis offer to tlie father in tlie first plai-e, and the father in repeating it urge,! tin- suit in every way. " He has promise to settle an indebent ent fortune on you." Mr. Win* urged. "Mitdat you can do vat you choose. And lie vil set Oscar up in husincsa ven in- has tinisli school next year. It vil pe a go-it ting for us all, Hildachen." Yes," nilda said. " I sunpfeu- it will. I will marry liiin, fatiier; and liaving f riven in-r consi-nt. -he f.-lt a* though sle i.-ul Us k' d herself into a Jirison. That evening Douglas* came. M. De Bonne Fortune, wlio dined late in tin city, rarely sjs-nt an evening at tlie Wlews', and it so happened that lie and Douglass had never met. Hilda felt like a traitor as she followed t|,e young man down to tlie boat—they hail an engage ment to go rowing. Tlie language of love is easy ol interpretation: she had mid it in liis look* and in his voice a hundred times Besides, site could inter nret it hy the key of her own fn-lings. But she made up tier mind that lie slmuM learn of her engagement from her own lips. If lie wa* pained, no one but her self should we his pain. When she had told him, DoUghtx* rowed on in silence for a while. Then lie said, " I have no doubt you have dn-idisl wisely. The children of this world are in their generation wiser than tlie chil dren of light. You have my gi*nl wishes, of course; you resign some tilings—vour art." " Yes," she replied, wretchedly. " But a woman cannot always think of her self." They rowed on in silence for anotlier while. I're-ently sin- sliivered and Sllgge-tid that tliey should ri-turn liome. "It is so cold on tlie water to night." Poor girl! she was cold to the heart. The tears stood in Mrs. Wiese'* moth erly eye*, and there was a weight on her heart, as heart and eye* faith followed tlie young man a* he strode down the road, liaving said farewell that night, lie wa* the mate site would have chosen for Hilda, in spite of waiting, in spite of poverty. Alii*! alio believed, she fi-arisl, that Hilda did not rare for M. De Bonne Fortune. She was taking up the unutter ■ able cross of a loveless life. She went to her daitgliter on tlie spur of tlint convic tion, but Hilda jiut lu-r away with a cold kiss. " Dear mamma, let it be as 1 have j decided. It is liest. lam not like you: I have not tlie same necessity for loving." Tlie golden chariot with Its coal-black ' steeds drew up in front of tlie Wieses' little cottage for tlie laat time and whirled Hilda away, after tlie marriage cere monv had been performed in the earpet less little parlor— whirled lu*r off to a life as different from that of lu*r girlhood as though she had indeed died to tier former ! self. Once on tlieir voyage out Iter liuslmnd ; found lu-r crying, tier meed bowed on lier folded arms, as she gazed out ujain i the lonesome waste of waters. •• Home, i sick?" lie asked, half friendly, half re j provlngly. Then, taking the fact for granteiV,lie went on: "My child, never 1 look liai-kward; it does no good." i To the outward seeming she llvi*d a i golden life in Paris of ease and luxury nnd grandeur, atwped in all the extrava gance and display of the second empire. Nor did she tail to carry out her inten tion* toward her jmrents In America. •She sent tliem, year hy year, mil of her i superabundaneo, enough fo keep the I Wolf from tlie door. Nor wa* tlie duke'a promise to Oscar forgotten. Til* boy was established in a well-known hanking house nftor a year or so of additional schooling. But there were time* wlien, in spite of alltlii*. Hilda De Bonm-Fortune asked herself whether her grand marriage had Iss-n wortli while! To fa* *ure, *lic had not fa-en guilty of the baseness of marry ing for her own mere meat and raiment, hut all the same she hail learned hy a wearisome experience how infinitely ha* were thesiithun the demand* of the soul. It bored tier to dentil to lie a line liuly. It seemed to her that she was a very ghost of her former self; that that had •linl long ago, when she had closed the door upon the real things of life—the ' art siie had surrendered, the mutual love she might have worn like a crown. I She grew quiet and pals, and her bus- j hand noticed it, and rcjiroaclict) her for it fretfully. Had he not married her for her yoiiili and freshness? She must exert herself; she must go into the world; she must dress in a manner fa-- fitting lu-r station. He did not choose Ids wife to lie a dowdy. When lie re proached her lie dropped the mask of Ids smooth gallantry. He was a* oiit sjmken and as rough and coarse n* though he had not fa-en educated in the foremost of modern civilizations. The jioor .ittie duchess was in despair. Will.in was there to turn to? Slie against the hard, cold world! There 1 was a church not far off. A fancy seized her to go thcr". Sle- had *c<-n h-r mother come out of a church sometimes with a wonderful look of jieai-c on le-r face. She might might find |#eiu-e too. She tisik her maid with her—since she never more went quite free now—and strayed into the great, quirt eath'-drul. Slie drojijieil down on lu-r knees. She thought of * storm, and of a voice that came in the storm, and of the ialm that followed. And presently tle-re was u calm with her. A calm, and a strength that is only horn of calm. She went about her ways serenely -. she mini Iter kingdom beauti fully. If slie had made a grave mistake, she did not sit down with folded hands in its shallow. Poor little soul! slie had strayed into hade*; but sh<- became the light, tlie tranquil moonlight, of the place. in a day of unfaith and of materialism and of niauiinon worship, she was true to her own ideals of goodness and loveli ness. She never lost her childlike na ture. her innoeen e, her simplicity. Tlie worldly men and women afanit h-r treated le-r with n certain half-pitying reverence. So slie made lier j,eaee with life, witli nature, a* the pagans would have ".aid, and a* we ( hristians still pliraae it, with a devouter and more tilial signifi cance. But in so making her reconciliation she must alo tlnd her way back to her old place in tlie h< art of tlie bright-faced little woman aero** the ocean who iiad K-tit lu-r fortii so retuetantly to lut mnr rinl life. Slie had written to her mother cold and studied letters during tlie first month* of her married life; it wa* ni until she liad eonqui-n-d her disapjiolot nicnt and her loneliness that she could write to iter a* she u*ed to talk to lu-r, with tlie otitjKuiring of Iter heart. t tne ev-ning at a rrovAhsl reii'ption at her liotel, a tall, fair man. with the *lig!illv *tsijied shoulder* of the student, made hi* way through the throng, and. h' ltating slightly, faiwed presently over her htinif. " I wa* by no mean* sure it wa* ?ou, M ailanm !••- Bonne Fortune." Dr. Doiigla** said. And in truth she was sufficiently altered to have made rn-ogni tion difficult. She h.-ol her fresh color; the mild ro*e bloom hail given |da< eto the pallor of the lily. Tln-re wa* an outlisiking patience now in lier eyes, and there were shadow* under theju t fiat told of sleepless iiiglit* and restless day*. But if the luMer of her youthful twnuty wa* dimmed, perhaps the splen dor of the setting uffiii-d to make amends. Her palace was verv splendid; her toilette was a triumph in its way; Icr fair Itemd was diademed with dia mond*. She looked the qun-n that she was in the world of fashion. " I seem to tie in a dream," Dr. Ibmg las* went on; "or rather it seems tome that it must havefai<n in a dream that we once took i-ountry ramh)i-s together down sliaiiv lanes, and wild (lowers, anil r-iwui afanit in a boat, and did various otlmr rustic things. Part of the dream wa* that you wore a white straw hat trimmed with scarlet j>ojtj>ic*. Your dn*** is trimmed with scarlet pop pies to-night. I sec." " Poppies an 1 said to be the flowers of dream*. A* far as that goi>. this scene to-night is the dream for tne. lam not accustomed to my grandeur yet; it is still unreal. Oh, Dr. Douglass "—dropping ln-r voici—" how i* my mother ? it le-n did you see her ?" Poor little qtin-n ' then- were tears in her eye*. Ismking into lu-r earn'-t fiiee, and so into tlie soul fa-hind it, it did in diiil appear as tliougli lu-r line clothe* and liit jewel* were a mask, and a* though she were holding court in a veri table place of shade*. Dr. Dor,g!a* had thought hard thing* of h< r; lie liad called her a mern-nnry worldlng. He took it all fau-k now; lie forgave lier; ho pitied her. After tiist, Hilda never nMed until slie had sn-n lier mother fan- to fai-e. Her conversation with Dr. Douglass hroiiglit uji tlie pii*t so vividly that she could not tie satisfied without. So in the spring she cross*-d tlie Atlanth*. witli lier little retinue of man nnd maid, two years after lier marriage. Slie knocked at the door of tlie shabby I .ittie house slie used to call home, late one evening. It was May. In the twi light gloom *lic could distinguish famil iar flowers in the *mnll garden—heart'*- ease and daffodils. She stoojicd and plucked a daffodil, her favorite flower, as slie Waited for them to ojw-n the door. It* fragrance carried her straight back to lier happy, hopeful girlhood. It brought ; up such a look to lier face tliat when Tier mother caught lier to lier arin* present ly. It seemed to lier tliat lier Hilda liad never fa-en away at all. Since then years have rolled slowly on. But every sjiring lias brought Hilda across tlie highway of tlie is-cnn. Slie I and her mother have been one in heart ever since. Tliey have lived chiefly in the time of their reunion and in tlie look ing forWßial to it and the nuienibering ■ it. Always when the daffodil* hloom Mrs. Wiese gnthers grvnt bundle* of them, and fills with them the vases in Hilda's room, and makes ready for lier darling. And tlie jiale little duchess re joices hi thefaiitit v of the spring flowers, and goes hack to Paris with alltlie more heart to tlie wearing of lier dark-hearted | jwinpies in winter. Sedan comes and goes, "faiwling down" the Second Empire,and sweep ing away tlie fortunes or many of its no- Ides; butM. lb- llopne Fortune went hers tlie crisis, and Madame ike Bonne For | tune still Imld* her shifting court. 1 The child of nature, gifted as are tlie favored children of our great mother: the ill-favored lord; the coal-black sUnls; the daffodils, such a* grew on Knna; the popple* that brought forget fulneee: the yearly visit to m purer air; the Hade* throne—All these feature* in mi old-world story have come into my mind ne I have written of a Persephone of to-dny.— lhirprr'n Hatar. A llattle in a Printing Office, A letter from St. Petersburg to tlie Nw Yo'k l/rralil giv-s del ail* of the de scent hy the |lie< of Kief ujion a mi-ret Nihilist printing office at that place and the fearful struggle which followed. The letter My: Tim policemen W'-nt in iiy the way indicated for the urn- of the in mates of the house, l<ut were tired at the moment they made their appearance. Seeing them Helve* in the min it of Home dozen resolute and armed youth* the po licemen thought it prudent to retire, and went to the nearest police Mat ion for re inforeementi. The XihiliM* hiul no time to remove anything and did not choose to give tlieirt over to the police cheaply. They lout no time in getting up n plan of action and of defence against toe cx pccted attack. Thirty-four policemen returned. Some were stationed around the lIOUHC AH OUtpOHtH Atll tile rest went directly in hy the gate* of the yard, which had a two-storied house on the riglit hand and one on the 1< ft. All the windows of the second floor*, a* w-l| a* the roofa of the two houses, were oceu pled ly armed student*. who .welcomed the police with a hWeeping volley of bullet*. Three policemen t. il dead on the spot' the rent retired fo • onsulta tion. They determined to < uter the house. intending to fall upon tic- Nihil iiti who remained down Maim in charge of the hook* and the pretne-H. And liere, in a large room, wax enacted a f'-arful mi ne, The tight became gene, ml. and the result wai a* follows: <tn the -ide of the police folir men r'-ci-jvcd light wound*, thru were seriously in jured and four killed on the *pot. Tim losses oil th< H : de of the Nihilist* were, it aeem. Mill greater- four y<ung girl", student* of the univeriity, and three atudentH kilh-d. while all the other* were wounded and lintillv nrresb*! iy tin- police • The police M !//i1 tie- print ing prn and a great number of inter dicted (took* of foreign pubiieation. How man* people were arretted in ail I do not know, an the number of po litical prisoner* is not fully given hy the official report*. Hut the afl'air did not end here. Sim ultaneously two otlmr girls and several men were arrested in the neighborhood of the printing office. Then Mile. Hcrzfeld was arrested—a daughter of a tjeneral iierzfehl, who occupies a high position in St. Petersburg, being a number of the State Council. Tim young and r<*nnwmd f'ountce* Panin, belonging to one of the oldest Russian families. was also taken. Ib-r step inotlier is reported to l- still one of the if'irnri <Thnnnrur of t ie empr'-se, and her great-grandfather was tie- see <>nd Chancellor of State in the time of Catherine the tireat. 1 am told that fa.ih young laiii'i w. re t ik-n in tlm a< t of tiring at the poltofl with tlt* volv<T*. It i not to is- wondered at that girls of high families are found in volved in such disturbances. Tlie wo men of Russia have repeatedly taken part in tiio liianifi-Mation* of national aspirations, a* for instance, Martha Pos-uuinizo. of Novgorod; the Prince-** Sophia, Peter the flrcat'* enterprising sister. and other*. Russian ladies in the olden tine* of domestic seclusion < ould not lc kept wholly from taking an active part in popular movement*, and nowaday* they take a lively share in all that concerns their husband* and brothers, and are quit* r-ady to sup port them when the occasion comm. About Fditors. F.very editor loves to have his frieed, snd particularly hi* reader*, call on him They Isdong to th* same family, a* it r re. Hut wlun you call lo see jhr editor, don't stay too long. Rlito-s are generally very busy in business hours. If you hare a sug. gestion to make, or news to eommunieate state it in the fewest wonf* |*>seihle. Don't ofler any excuses, or indulge in a long preface to what you have to say. Pdurt it right out; tell the editor you wish him well, and hid him good-day. Editors dote on auch men a* that; they love to receive calls from them. Don't argue with them ---don't try to do it. They hare no time for argument while at work. When you write to an editor for publica tion, make it short—boil it down. Pitch right into the middle of your subject, and lie sure to stop when you are through. Eli tor- always like something fresh and origi nal in the way of communications, and are especially f--nd of news, ltut the editor must always lie the jndge of what is worthy of pubiieation. Ol course, every writer thinks his own publication the first, just a* every mother thinks her baby the prettiest that waseverhorn. ltut the editor may hem stupid as to have a different opinion. If ao.it ran't t* helped. Don't try to argue him out of his notion, if he is too stupid to remedy his dullness. You may think you are a peat deal smarter than the editor and this may he true; hut the editor may j lie responsible, and you are not. There is ro class of people who are so anxious to please a majority of jieople as editors are. There ia no class so mvetou* of the good opaiion of others. It ia well to remember thai fact. HtrhnW;,*. The Friends. A New York paper savs: The Quakers, j or Friends, are said to have been dimin ishing slowly though steadily during tlie last twenty years, in consequeni-e of tlie secularization of manv of the younger jieople bom in the society. Their faith and life are simple, and their ways so gentle and honest, as to Is- in sharp contrast to much of tlie complicated and artificial wants and manners of the lattT half of tlie nineteenth century. Many members of the society in Philadelphia, win re tliey are far more numerous than in any other Htv in the Union, are anx -1 |ou* to correct the decreasing tendency of the body, and am zealously engaged in a \ movement for tlie formation or settle ment* in the West. Tlie Friends have iiecn so scattered and isolated in tlint section as to gradually lose interest in their habit* and principles. The inten tion is to organize an association which *hall purchase tract* of land, and sell farm* and lot* on easy terms, either to Friends or those in sympathy with them, and to aid such jiersons as I lava limitiil means witli money to erect dwellings and develop their scanty ro source*. Tlie association nrojiosos tc lay out roads, put up school and meet ins-house*, and push forward nil need ful and worthy enterprises. Tlie West < nn have no better or more useful or mom desirable citizens, for tlie name of Quaker lias become everywhere a syn onym nfpurity, ordiT thrift, and iienevo lehi-e. The Whole number of Friend* ia •Miniated at present at 1 <IO,OOO, of whom iM.fIUO belong to the United State*. Tb Two Light*. " WWn I'm a man," tb* stripling cries. Au/1 strivs* the "lining jrmnt Ui seau " Ail, than I ►hull Ixi strong an'l wise, Wbn I'm a man ' " When I *m voimg," Uu old man sigh " bravely the Lirl. and linnet "nog llieir carol nn'lar minny slues, When I wiut young '• When I'm n Winn, I aim!) be frnn To gtuir<l the right, the truth uphold.' " Whin I hub young I l*-nt no bwa To (>owcr or gold," •' Then abalt I naliafy my tool " With yonder prize, when I'm a man.'' " Too late I found how a ion the g<ml To which I ran." " When I'm it rnitn tiieee i'Ue toy* Aahie forever thall lie dung." " Iliere wan no poison in my joya When I waa young." TV Imy'a bright dreato U all liefore, 'llie man'a romance iiea far belaud. Had we the present and no more, I'ute wi-re unkind. Hut, brother, toiling in the night, Mill count youraell not all mihleai If in Ihe rtiat there g euuui a light, fir ill the treat. Hlarku'Wrl'i Mnjaitnr. HUMS OF INTEREST. A tub race—Washerwomen. Hon-shinc—That made by a bootblack. There arc in Ttiu 175,ri94,V50 seres of land. The |ieanu( < rufi thir tear it ndimaUtJ at I,iKK,OUO hurheU. There are fourteen rx governor* in the United States Senate. I'ij.ie two fii t long nre smoked in th* street in < olUin, f'al. Missouri lin* sixteen counties in whica there is not h single liquor saloon. The Inking of tlie United States eon -us next ji-ar will cost about $1,000,000. There is a jtopnlation in the Frenchcolo nic*, and i**ceion abroad, including Al geria, of . r >,41dt,410. It it very dangerous to make up your judgment concerning a young lady't weight by measuring her sighs. A erhnolhoune it to lw built at lirad tille, (xd . which show* that the I>ead- % villi arte desire to improve their minds. " Father, is thai a goose—that big white bird?" " No, my l>oy, that bird is lb* swan—that iintim-ulate giraffe of tha wave!" Philadelphia, which eight yenra had only sut'in shoe factories. has now over I*o. Their arinual production ia "•timat'-d at 4H,noo,fi(Ki patra. Ilure was a jonng man in 'HI < ity. Wlao consutrred himself very witty, lie got off a pun To furnish the crowd fun, I he way they lamtiiatl hitn was a pity Hrrrirk. A factory in Hanover, (iermanv. make# glass in <Toi imitation of tnarMe. and the tables, floor, tiles, etc., which it turn* out, arc preferable to marble on account of superior hardness. The tierman government has prohibited lecture* on emigration, leal the alluring pictures of an easier and happier life ia other lands should encourage young men in t* aping the detested years of barrack life. According to the annual report of the Hank Itcpartment, the amount due to the dejiosifors of the twentv-nine savings banks that have failed In eight years wa* £ 14.f10.107': of which the* have re ci ved 137.M11; leaving $0.t?2.51 yet due. of which tliev land a chance of get ting f1.43fi.421 Now the noisy wcssls are sul!; April's eoming up the hill' All the spring is in her train, Iwd try shining ranks of rain l'it. it, |llrr, jwtter, Sudden sun. and jwlter. patter ' First the blue, and then tha shower. Hunting hod, and smiling flower, brooks set free with tinkling ring, birds too full of song to sing; I try obi leave* astir with pnde. Where tlie Umid rkileta bide — All things ready with a will— April's coming up the hill' —St .Nira • < >ne of the most remarkable n m of the mountain country it* (icnctil Jarvia Jackson. tif Ixindon, l-nurr) county. Kv. lie is ninety-nine years of age. has lii* second sight, and reads tlie hnest print without spectacles. Tlie old gentb-man is hale and heart v. is at present chair man of tin-laianf of trustors, has served heretofore in tlie Senate and House of Representatives, and lias been a leading Denuxrat for many years in I-auret county. He is the issue of the first mar riage ver solemnised in Madison county, Uatirel hav ing then lx-en part of this county. He owns much land in thi section, i a mnn of means, and still su perintends his business affairs without assistance. He has I men attending the State Jb-mocratic conventions for the past twenty years, and announces his in tent ionj of Ix-ing present at the May con vention. — Itichmomi (Ay.) Ilrgi4fr. The lsrge-4 infant at birth of whirh there is any authenticated record was torn in O oon the 12(h of last January. The new* bo n boy was twenty-three and three quar ter pounds in weight (the ordinary weight being about six pounds), and thirty im hen in height (the ordinary height heing about twenty inches). The circumference of the head was nineteen inchest and the foot was five and a half inches in length. Sit yi ar* ago the same woman became the mother of a child eighteen pounds in weight and twenty-four inches in height. The sire and weight of the hahe, though extraordinary, are proportionate to the aire of the parents. The mother, Mrs. M. V. Bates, ol Nova Scotia, is seven feet and nine inches high, and the father, a Kenturkian, is seven feet w-ven inches high. The Ixmdon Hospital Museum csn Imast no longer of its giant infant, which * only twenty-four inches high, with the head thirteen and a half inches in circumference. Rarely has the press been called upon to record a more cowardly and brutal act than the murder of tlie actor. 14. C. Porter, by James Currie. and the shoot ing of Ids companion. Mr. Barrymore. at Marshall, Texas. While these gentle men were in the restaurant adjoining the waiting-room of the railroad station, with Miss Josephine Baker, an actr<ws, and all waiting tor the train, this ruffian t*urric used improper language to them, and when told hv the party that lie must not* insult a laify and that they did not want to have any trouble with him. he drew his revolver and shot them. It appears the fidlnw had two revolvers was. in fact, a sort of walking arsenal, as if murder was his profession. He was a railroad detective, too. A nretly sort of fellow this, to lie employed ny a railroad company. When a drunken ruffian car ries a loaded revolver, there is no telling when he may use it. or make the occa sion himself for using it; hut when Its goes doubly armed, as this man Currie was. he is as dangerous as a train of nitro-glycerine.