Better I,nek Another Year.
Oh! never sink 'nesth fortune's frown,
But brave bar with a shout ot cheer, m
Ami trout het fairly—faco her down—
She's only stern to those who four!
Here's " better lnok another year!"
Another year!
Aye, better luck another year!
We'll have her smile instead ot sneer—
A thousand smiles lor every tear,
With home made glad and goodly oheer.
And better luck another year—
Another year!
The damsel lortune still domes
The plea that yet delights her ear;
'Tie but our manhood that she tries,
She's ooy to those who doubt and leai ;
She'll grout ih'i suit another year!
Another year!
Here's " better luok another yoar!"
She now denies the golden prise;
But spite ot Irown and scorn and sneer,
Be Ann, and we will win and wear
With homemade glad and goodly cheer,
(a better luok another year!
Another yoar! Another yoar!
B'. Gil more Si mint
The Belle of Wolf Run.
A company of strolling players 'n a
barn. Tlie great space is lighted by
lamps of every description, the mo.-t
ambitious of which is a circle of hoops
stuck full of candles. This does duty
as the grand chandelier, and is quite
effective.
Seated near the stage, before which
hangs a green curtain, are two persons—
a man and a young girl, whom, even
the unpracticed eye might take as rustic
lovers. He is a tall, finely-formed
young fellow, with a noble head and
keen, sparkling blue eyes. She is the
beauty of Wolf Run, faultiers in figure
and feature, and with a something in
her expression denoting that she is not
quite satisfied witli her position, even as
the belle of the village, or her surround
ings.
Margaret Lee had never in her life
teen a play, therefore she was prepared
to realize all the emotions of novelty,
terror, wonder, delight, witli which a
novice looks on the strut and action of
those who cater to the profoundest
emotions. Of course she frrgot where
she was ; of course she was dazzled and
terribly stirred at the love scenes.which
were, as usual, exaggerated.
The hero of the drama was a hand
some, worthless rascal, who learned,
before the evening was through, to play
at our unsophisticated little Margaret,
reading her admiration in her eyes, and
enjoying the smiles, the tears, and almost
spoken interest, of the beauty of Wolf
Run.
" Pretty good wasn't it ?" said
Charlie '\ ance, as lie held her fleecy red
shawl to wrap shout her, at the close
of the performance.
Margaret had no words, she only
gasped: "Oh, Charlie!" as they gained
the door, and caught at his arm; for
their stood the hero of the stage, still in
his bespangled velvet finery, and evi
dently slatioiftd at that particular place
in order to catch a glance at her lovely
face.
"Confound his impudence!" Charlie
Vance muttered between bis teeth.
Margaret shivered a little as they lett
the barn. Everybody was .laughing
and talking. The soft, clear, round
moon shed its light upon a some of
Ay Ivan beauty; J>ut the two spoke but
few words until they had reached Mar
garet's home— a square white house set
back a prrden.
"A little of that goes a great ways,"
said the ynun<£ fanner, who had evi
dently been thinking the matter over.
" They stay here a week or more. I
don't care to go again, do yoq P"
"Oh, I do believe I could go every
night," said Margaret, fervently.
"They're a hard set, Maggy," said
her lover, a little malice in his voice.
" How do you know ? Are you sure
of tliat ?" she asked, eagerly and re
provingly.
" Oh, they're generally thought to be.
Well, good-night. Maggy;" and he
had gone ten steps before it occurred to
him that they had parted without a
kiss.
" I don't care," he said, sullenly, half
aloud; "and that fellow stays at her
uncle's tavern, too. Why should it net
tle me so, anyway?"
Now Margnret and her cousin Anne
were almost as inseparable as sisters. It
was with a quick beating heart that the
former took her way to the tavern next
dav, meeting Anne as usual at the pri
vate entrance for the family.
"Oh, Magi" cried Anne, her eyes
sparkling, " you've made a conquest."
"What do you mean?" asked Mar
garet, her fair face flushing, her pulses
beating tumultously.
" Why, vou know—last night. Oh,
isn't he glorious!—exquisite? And only
think he asked papa who that very
lovely girl was in pink ribbons in the
second seat —and that was you! Papa
laughed and told him his niece, nnd
somebody else said something very
handsome absut you at the table, nnd
then papa Up and said you were engaged
to Charlie Vance, which sounded so
ridiculous. And I give you my word of
honor tli gentleman turned pale."
" Nonsense!" said Margaret: hut the
flnttering words had accomplished their
work, and it was sot hard to persuade
her to stay to dinner, where of course
her lovely blushing face did not a little
execution.
"Well, Maggy, what is it to be?"
asked Charlie Vance, sternly. This was
only a week afterward. All the soft
ness had gone out of his faceaahespoke.
His eyes had lost their gracious, spark
ling beauty. it migbt be that his
cheeks were a trifle thin, and certainly
his dark face was haggaid
"Oh, Charlie!"—she stood on the
other side of the spacious hearth, droop
ing and timid, her face very white, and
the large eyes startled in expression,
like those of a frightened fawn.
" You are changed, Maggy. I don't
say it alone. God help us both, it's
talked about all over the place.
night, when I heard something at Dllle
way's. I felt like going home and blow-,
ing my brains out."
"Oh.Cherlisr
The voice was mote plaintive, and the
little figure drooped jet lower.
" And it all eoraee of that infernal vil
lain. It all comet of your going back
and forth to the hotel, and with yonr
C ousin Anne, to see him."
Margaret lilted her head with a piti
ful gesture.
"tie is soing away to-day," she cried,
a great nam in her voice.
" Ana you will eo him before he
"Oh, no, no, Charlie. Oh, don't look
so cruel. I can't sec him now, you
know I can't!"
" Since yon've heard that he's got a
wife elsewhere, eliP"
" C'liariie! I don't care; it isn't that,"
she answered, chokingly. How could
she add—"lt is because I have lound
him base, untrue, when he seemed to me
like an angel of light."
Her red lips quivered; the tearsHtood
large and snimng on her lashes, her
eyes were downcast, her hands folded
with the rigid clasp of despair.
"I shall never see him again," she
whispered, hoarsely; " but if you say all
is over between us, why it must be so."
"I don't say it need be, mind," he
said, looking pitifully down nt her. " 1
can overlook a good deal, I love you so
much, so much! God in heaven only
knows how much I have loved you.
But I won't have the face of that man
between us. God! no! no!" and his
great shoulders lifted with the scarcely
drawn breath, while a dark red hate
smoldered in his usually soft eyes.
"It shall be just as you say," she
murmured, meekly, without looking up.
" It shall be just as you say," he re
•plied, quickly. " I)o you think you
could learn to love me again, a little?"
he asked, the anger all gone. She was
so beautiful.
" Try me, Charlie. You are so strong
and good, and noble; I always felt that
—and one can't long like where one
can't respect, can oner" Her hands were
on his arm now, and the lovely plead
ing eyes uplifted to his.
" You won't see him again?"
'I won't—l swear I won't! What
should I want to see him for now?" she
sobbed.
"Then, we will wait. This trouoe
goes to-morrow. Don't cry, darling; I
dare say it will all eome out right;" and
after a few low-spoken words, the young
man left her, but by no means with
pence seated on his bosom's throne.
" Mamma, if anybody conies, say I'm
out," called Margaret, from the top
stairs.
" Well, I guess nobody'll be here to
day, unless it's that actor fellow." was
the response. " IXm't walk in the sun,"
she added, for mother and father were
proud of their darling's beauty, and they
secretly wished for her a better match
than even their neighbor's son.
Deep in the woods she struck, deter
mined never to see that too fair fatal
face again.
•' He'll be pone to-morrow," she half
sobbed. holding her hands hard against
her heart, "and I shall never see him
again. God Ire thanked! for, oh, I dare
not trust myself."
The path, slippery, with pine-leaves,
led to a favorite resting-plai-e—a cleared
spot through which ran a crystal-clear
river. The place combined several dis
tinctively beautiful features. Here she
sat down, unmindful of the singing
stream, the soft shadows, the sweet
murmuring of the wind in the tops of
the trees.
A footstep near startled her.
In the river.-as in a mirror, she saw a
vision that had become all too dear to
her—a graceful figure clad in black vel
vet, the small hat, with its waving
plumes, reflected, with the outstretched
hand that held it, in the blue depths.
She sprang to her feet, a burning flush
spreading over brow and neck, and
would have fled but that he was beside
her at n bound.
"My beauty! my darling! my own!"
"Sir, those words are an insult to
me!" she cried with spirit, striving in
vain to free herself from bis caressing
arm.
"An insult! I would die before I
would offer you an insult, my beautiful.
Cqme with me; I want to snow you a
lovelier spot than this—come!"
" I will not, she said, firmly, wresting
herself from iiim, not daring to look up
in his face. " How could you follow
me—how dared you?"
" Love will dare anything,'" he said,
fjayly, fastening his powerftil eyes on
icr face, and drawing her glance up to
his. " Come, I will woo vou like
Claude Melnotte." And again he put an
arm about her; but, like a flash of light
ning, the two were torn asunder, and
the man was thrown headlong with one
blow from the powerful arm of Charlie
Vance.
"Go!" he said, sternly, pointing to the
frightened gir J. " I can save you from
his insolence, hut I cannot promise to
save you from yourself. Go, and think
on your broken promises."
Later in the day Charlie came up to
Margaret's house and asked for her.
"Whatever is the matter with the
child ?" queried the mother. I never
saw her in such low spirits."
The young man made no answer, but
went into the cool, shaded parlor.
Presently Margaret came down, white
as a lillv. There was an unspoken
question in her wide, tearless eyes.
"No, I didn't kill him, Maggie,
though he deserved it. I don't want
tl.e crime of murder on my soul, even
lor you, my poor girl. Hut I sent him
away as subdued and cooled-down a
man as ever you see. Such men are
always cowards. And now, Maggie,
you're free. I never should want to
think of the look you gave hiui while I
held you in arms, ar.d I should have
to think of it. I've come to say good
bye, for I'm off for the West, and if ever
I—hello I"
There was a low. broken sob, and on
his chest Margaret lay a dead weight.
The girl had fainted awav.
Well, a long sickness followed. Charlie
could not leave her lying there between
life and denlli, and the first visit after
she could set up settled the matter.
Margaret had conquered her vanity,
which, after all, was more touched
than her affections, and found that there
was only one image in the heart that
had been, as site thought, so torn with
conflicting struggles—and that was (He
frank, honest, blue-eyed Charlie Vance,
who had loved her over since she was a
baby.
And of course thev were married.
WrtATHicn Biuxs.—When the swal
lows fly low, wet weather may bs ex
pected, la-cause the insects which .the
swallows pursue in their flight are fly
ing low to escapo the moisture of the
tip|Kr regions of the atmosphere,
blurs twinkle on account of their light
reaching us through variously-heated
and moving currents of air. Hence
much twinkling of the stars foretells
bad weather, because it denotes that
there are various serial currents of dif
ferent temperatures and densities, pro
ducing atmospheric disturbance.
How Pesnuts are Prepared for the
Market.
The modus operandi by which the
nuts lire separated, cleaned and classed
is somewhat as follows: The third
story of the building contains thousands
of bushels of peas in hags, and there the
continual roar of the machinery is deaf
ening. Each machine lias a dut yto per
form. First, there is a large cylinder in
which all the nuts are placed, in order
.hat the dust and dirt may he shaken off
of them. They pass from this cylinder
into the brushes, wiicre every nut re
ceives fifteen feet of a brushing before it
becomes free. Then they pass through
a sluice-way to the floor below where
they are dropped on an endless belt,
about two and a half feet in width, anil
passing along at the rate of four miles
l un hour. On each side of tiie belt stand
light colored girls, and as tiie nuls fall
front the sluice on the belt the girls,
with a quick motion of the hand, pick
out all the poor-looking nuts, and by the
time the belt reaches the end two-thirds
of the nuts are picked off, allowing only
the finest to puss the crucible. Those
that do pass drop through another sluice
and empty into the bogs on the floor be
low. When the bag is tilled it is taken
away by hand, sewed up and branded
as "cocks," with the figure of a rooster
prominent on its sides. The peas caught
up by the girls are thrown to one side,
placed in bags and carried into another
room, where they are again picked over,
the last singled out. bagged and bianded
as "ships." These are as fine a nut as
the first for eating, but in shape and
color do not compare with the "cocks,"
Having gone over them twice, we now
come to a third grade, which are called
and brand*"' as ea^.es." These are
picked out of theeullings of the "cocks"
and "ships," hut now and then you will
find a respectable-looking nut among
them; though tiie eyes of the colored
damsels are as keen as a hawk, and a
bad nut U rarely allowed to pass their
hands. Tiie eullings that are left from
the "eagles" are bagged, sent through
the elevator to the top story, and what
little meat is in them is shaken out by a
patent shellcr, which is not only novel,
out as perfect a piece of machinery as
was ever invented. The nuts being
shelled by this new' process, the meat
1 drops in bags below free from dust or
i dirt of any kind, and are then shipped in
two hundred-pound sacks to the North,
where they are bought up by the con
fectioners for the purpose of making
j taffy or peanut candy. It may be here
stated that a peculiar kind of oil is ex
' true ted from the meat of the nut, and in
i thi specially a large trade is done
among the wholesale druggists. There
, is nothing wasti-d, for even the shells
are made useful. They arc packed in
sacks and sold to stable-keepers for
horse bedding, and a very healthy lx-d
i they make.— Correspondence Philadelphia
Times.
Why Suspension Bridges are Dangerous
Referring to the blowing down of the
Tay bridge in Scotland, Prof. Park Ben
jamin writes as follows: Apropos to
this particular accident a distinguished
French engineer and iron founder, now
in this country, informs us that he lias
known bars of iron made by himself
from Scotch pig to change from a tough
fibrous to a brittle crystalline structure
in traveling by rail only from the north
of France to Paris. This is. of eourse,
an extreme instance. Again, recent re
search lias demonstrated that because a
structure withstands a large quiescent
load, that fact is little proof of stability
under repeated shocks and vibrations.
Metals are believed to have a " life." A
bar, for example, may stand a million
vibrations and break down at the mil
lion-and-flrst and yet the last shock
may be lighter than preceding ones. At
tempts, however, to reduce this law to
practical application, have elicited an
abundance of conflicting evidence, but,
nevertheless, it is wellsettled that in
no department of mechanics is sn ex
tended course of actual experimenting
more urgently needed or of graver pub
lie importance. Still, against even the
above supposition, the fall of eleven
spans seems to militate, at least in the
light of such information as is now at
hand, and the conviction is forced that
some other theory lies at the bottom of
the occurrence. This leads to the sug
gestion of an hypothesis which has al
ready been frequently urged by cngi
neers who disapprove of bridges on the
suspension system—namely, that the
structure may be thrown into isochrons
vibrations by the wind. This intro
duces anew attacking element. It is
well known that a very heavy sus
pended weight may be caused to vibrate
over large arm by a very small force, if
the impulses be properly timed. Sol
diers in crossing a bridge always break
step so as to avoid causing vibrations in
the structure, and there is a well-known
old story of some one who offered to
" fiddle a bridge dowr," his plan being
to cause the bridge to swing in unison
with the boats of notes corresponding in
pitch with the periodic vibrations oftho
structure. It is not necessary to mul
tiply examples of so well known a
physical fact which is here adduced
simply to point out that it may not be
unreasonable to assume that the long
spans of the Tay bridge were thrown
into actual swinging vibration by the
gale itself, those of the same length
would vibrate synchronously and the
piers might be supposed to represent
nodes or neutral points.
Hunt the King -A Winter Evening
Maine.
A circle is made, and a piece of tape or
string is obtained sufficiently long to
reach all around the inside. A ring is
then slipped on to it. and the ends are
tied together. Each of the players takes
hold or the tape or string with both
hands, and the person whom lot or
choice lias marked out for the victim,
standing in the middle of the circle, is
next made to turn round three times
(without shutting his eyes or submitting
to any other disadvantage), and is then
let loose to hunt for the ring. The ob
ject of the rest of the players is, of
course, to prevent his catching It, and
they pass It from one to another, cover
ing it with their hands as rapidly as
possible. If a constant backward and
forward motion ol the hand is kept up.
It will be found extremely difficult to
discover where it Is so as to stop it be
fore it disnppenrs. As in the fairy tain,
, it will often be seen to gleam, but only
to disappear when an effort is made to
grasp It. and the victim's only chance is
the greatest rapidity in opening and
shutting etery hand ronn&the circle, to
*ach of which he has immediate access
as soon as lie has touched it It is un
fair to pass the ring from under a hand
after it has been touched and before it
lias been opened, and the play * In whose
possession it is finally found b, nea in
turn tbe victim.
THIRTY YEAKN IN IHSUUHK.
A Noted Old California.. Sl.fe-l>rlTtr
IMirortrtd, After Death, So He a Wo
man.
A letter" from Watsonviile, Cal., to '
the Han Francisco Call, says: There is !
hardly a city or town or hamlet of tiie j
Pacific coast that includes among its
citizens a few of the gold hunters oJ" j
tiie early days where at least one person 1
cannot l>e found who will remember !
Charley Parkhurst. For in I lie early 1
days the gold hunters were, by rapidly- j
mcceeding gold discoveries, drawn back i
lo San Francisco as a headquarters, and j
.gain distributed from it to tiie most I
recently found diggings, and in those
same early days Charley Parkhurst was
a stage-driver on tiie more important'
routes lending out from the city. He
was in his day one of tiie most dex- 1
tcrous and famous of the California
drivers, ranking with FOBS, Hank Monk,
and George Gordon, and it was an honor 1
to be striven for to occupy the spare end
of the driver's seat when the fearless
Charley Parkhurst held the reins of a j
four or six in hand. California coach- ;
ing hail, and lias even yet, one exciting
adjunct that was wanting in all preced
ing coaching, It was when the organ- ,
ized hands of highwaymen waylaid the !
coaches, leaped to the leaders' heads, !
and, over leveled shot-guns, issued tiie
grim command mode so often that it 1
was crystalized into the felonious for
mula of "Tluow down the box."
Drivers of a phlegmatic tcmperani nt be
come accustomed to these interruptions, 1
expertly wrecken up the killing capacity
of the gun-barrels leveled at them, ac- j
cept the inevitable, throw down the
treasure-box and drive on. Charley i
Parkhurst was high-strung, and this
was one requirement of the driver of the
early days lie could never master. He
drove for a while between Stockton and
Mariposa, and once was stopped and
had to cut away the treasure box to get
his coach and passengers clear. Hut lie
did it, even under the "drop" of the
robbers' firearms, with all ili-grace,
and he defiantly told the highwaymen
that he would "break even with them." I
He was as good as his word, for, being
subsequently stopped on a return trip
from Mariposa to Stockton, lie watched !
his opportunity, and. eontcmporane- |
ously, turned his wild mustangs and
his wicked revolver loose, and brought
everything through safe. That his
shooting was to the mark was subse
quently ascertained by the confession of I
" Sugarfoot," a notorious highwayman, I
who, mortally wounded, found his way
to a miner's cabin in tiie hills, and told ;
him how he had ix-cn shot by Charley i
I'arkhurst, the famous driver, in a des- I
perate attempt, with others, to stop his i
stage.
Charley Parkhurst also afterward
drove on the great stage route front
Oakland to San Jose, and later, and
for a long time, he was " the boss of the
road" between Han Juan and Santa
Cruz, when San Frnnciseo was reached
by wiur of San Juan But Parkhurst
was of both an energetic and a thrifty
nature, and when rapid improvements
in the means of locomotion relegated
coaches further out toward the fron
tiers, and made tiie driving of them less
profitable, it was not sufficient for him
that lie-was acknowledged as one of tiie
three or four crack whips of the coast.
He resolutely abandoned driving and
went to fanning. For fifteen years lie
prosecuted ttiis calling, varying it in the
wintertime hv working in the woods,
where lie was known as one of the most
skillful and powerful of choppers and
lumbermen, and where his services were
eagerly sought for. and always com
manded the highest wages. Although,
in tiia stage-coaching days, lie was hail
( fellow well met with the migratory
miners, and during the succeeding years
of liia life as farmer and lumberman be
was "social and generous with his fel
lows, he was never intemperate, im
moral or reckless, and the sure result
was that his years of labor had been
rewarded with a competency of several
thousands of dollars. For several years
past lie had been so severely afflicted
with rheumatism as not only to be un
able to do physical labor, hut th'mal
ady had even resulted in partial shriv
eling and distortion of some of his
limits. He was also attacked by a can
cer on liis tonrue. As the combined
diseases became more aggressive, the
genial Charley I'arkbuist Itecame, not
morose, but less and less communica
tive, till of late be h?s conversed with
no one except on the ordinary topics of
theday.
Last Sunday, in a little cabin on the
Moss ranch, nlwut six miles from
Watsonville. Charley Parkhurst. the
arnotis coachman, the fearless fighter,
the industrious farmer and expert
woodsman, died of the cancer on his
tongue. He knew that death was ap
proaching, hut he did not relax the re
ticence of nis later years other than to
express a few wishes as to certain
tilings to he done at his death. Then,
when the hands of the kind friends who
had ministered to his d ving wants came
to lay out the dead body of the adven
turous Argonaut. a discovery was made
that was literally astounding. Charley
Parkhurst was a woman. The dis
coveries of the successful concealment
for protracted periods of the female sex
under the disguise of the masculine are
not infrequent, and tiie ease of Charley
Parkhurst may fairly claim to rank as
by all odds the most astonishing of all
of them. That a young woman should
assume man's attire and. friendless and
alone, defy tiie dangers of the voyage of
IH4H, to the then almost m/thicnl Cali
fornia—dangers over wiiich hardy
pioneers still grow boastful—hss in it
sufficient of the wonderful. That she
should achieve distinction in an occu
pation above, all professions calling for
the Is'st physical qualities of nerve,
courage, coolness and endurance, and
that slir should add to them the almost
romantic personal bravery I hat enables
one to figlit one's way througli the am
bush of an enemy, seems almost fabu
lous, and that for thirty years she
should lie in constnnt and intimate
association with men nnd women, and
that her true sex should never have
been even suspected, and that she
should finally go knowingly down to
Iter death vlthout disclosing by word
or deed who she was or why she had
assume I man's dress and responsi
bilities, are things that a reader might
be justified in doubting if the proof of
their exact truth was not so abund
ant and conclusive. 11 is said by several
who knew her intimately that she came
from Providence. K. !.
Remarks * writer: "A gen tie hand
cull Wad an elephant by a hair." NDW,
what fool inline** that fa to put Into the
mind* of children. Why, bless you,
eiephanW don't have hair; they just
hase hide*, that's all. Terhapa a gentle
hand might lead him by the tall, but,
mind you, we have our doubt* eren of
that.— HocJklamt Otnrter.
How Farmer* are Swindled.
Y eater day a well-known gentleman
called at thin office and gave us the par
ticulara of the nmst ingenioua and well
devised aehenic to defraud people that it
ha* ever been our lot to record. The
thieved, for tney eannot be called by
any Other name, have successfully vic
timi/.ed a nunvter ol farmers of this
county. Their aclieme i a* follows: A
well-aretscd man calla at the residence
of Home farmer, and after introducing
himself states that he is in the employ
of the State hoard of agriculture, and
is sent by the board to gather the sta
tistics regarding the crop of the past
year, the same to be printed in hook
form for dWtribu'ion throughout the
State. He therefore produces a blank
printed like the following:
INDIANA STATU UHAUD or AOKICUI.TVKB.
Statistical Department,
ron 1879.
No. bushel* of wheat raised
No. hushels ol corn raised
No. bushels ol flaxseed raised ....'
No. bushels of oats raised
No. bushels ol rye raised
Sign here
This blank, as will be seen from the
alaivc form, has a blank space at the
bottom, which the swindlers state
is left to till up with any
other article which the farmer might
produce in quantity. After the printed
blank is filled, they usually write num
ber tons of bay raised, and then request
tie- farmer to sign it on the blank line
so that it may be placed among the tiles
lof the lioard after lA lng printed. Aftei
the signature is obtained, a little talk is
indulged in about the farmers in the lo
cality, and the swindler departs. lie
then fills up the blank space at the foot
of the olank with a note, payable in
hank, in any sum he desires, and dis
poses of it. In several of the cases
wherein some of our farmers were vic
timized, the amount called for is one
hundred and twenty-six dollars, and
the same purports to pay for a windmill
pumn. The swindlers were in this city
\on Wednesday last with a number ol
| notes which they tried to dispose of at
; the hnnks, hut were unsuccessful, and it
is presumed they left, on the afternoon
train. The scheme is such a plausible
one that it is easy to understand how a
person can be taken in. We urge upon
OUr readers to give as much publicity a
possible to this, and warn all against
the swindlers. Do not sign any paper
presented by a stranger, and you will
save time and lots of trouble.- Kokomo
(Ittd.) Tril/unc.
Ilow the fount Josnnes Was Bounced.
The death of the Count Joannes re
calls an incident in the editorial mom
of the Boston Tranacripl some years ago,
before the Count left Boston, and when
tlie genial l)an. Haskell was editor of
the paper. The Count's frequent visits
ha<l become a source of annoyance to
Haskell and bis associates in the editor
ial room, and hut little respect was en
tertained by them for the numerous
titles claimed by the Count, while his
consequential airs and lofty style had
become a positive bore.
Hushing in late one forenoon, where
Haskell, Fox, Dix and Whipple were
scratching away for dear life at their
respN*tive deeks.lheCount slapped down
a small slip upon Haskell's desk and
asked in a loud and indignant tone:
" Why was that item about me pub
lished in yesterday's ,
Haskell laid down his pen. and, rising
to his feet, confronted the Count, who
stood in a dramatic altitude with folded
arms, and said, in his decided, matter of
fact way:
"Mr. Jcnes,leave this room (point
ing to the door), do not enter it again as
long as you live; we are tired of you.
anil you may r*>i assured that as long
*• I am editor of the Tranarript your
name shall never again appear in its
columns except ur.dcr the head of 'Obit
unry.' Go!"
The Count was so taken aback that lie
did not utter a word, but elevated his
eyebrows, fixed his hat more firmly upon
his head, and strode majestically to the
door toward which Haskell still'painted
and vanished behind it.
The editor sank ha<-k in his scat with
a sigh of relief, but there was a peal of
laughter fn m those present, in which
even the sedate Whipple joined.—Bos
ton Commercial Bull*tin.
What Paid for Illinois.
The Chicago Tribune print* an old
document of considerable historic inter
est. It is a deed or conveyance of land
bearing date July 20. 1773. The parties
of the first part in the transaction are
ten Indian chiefs of the different tribes
of the Illinois nation* of Indian*, rcpre
sen ting all of them, and the parties oi
the second part are twenty-two white
men of Philadelphia and Pittsburg.
I'cnn., and I>onoon, England. The
premise* conveyed by the Indians to
these white men srs two several tracts
of land, via : Hint, the tract now com
monly known as Southern Illinois, nnd,
second, the remainder of the State to the
northern border, and a portion ol South
em Wisconsin. The consideration for
this immense tract of land, including
the whole State of Illinois and a g*wtd
part of Wisconsin, is thus expressed in
the deed: "Two hundred and sixty
strouds, 250 blanket*. 350 shirts. 150
pairs ol atroud and half-thick stockings.
150 stroud breech-cloths, 500 pounds ol
gunpowder. 4.000 pound* ol lead, one
gross of knives, thirty pounds of ver
milion. 9,000 gun-flints, 900 pounds of
brass kettles, 900 pounds or tobacco,
three dozen gilt locking-glasses, one
gross of gun-wemi*. two gross of awl*,
one gross or fire-steels, sixteen dozen of
gartering, 10,000 pounds ol flour, 500
bushels of Indian corn, twelve horses,
twelve horjed cattle, twenty bushels of
salt and twenty guns, the receipt wlier.-
of we do hereby acknowledge " These
nrticles having been " paid and de
livered in full council." The deed was
signed and executed before a French
notary public at Kaskaskia village.
The Warld** Telegraphs.
The system of telegraphs in Eurng>
comprised, at the end or 1877. 9W.thll
miles of lines and 709.708 mile? of wire
There wen- 19 827 government telegraph
stations The number ol empio>ees
amounted to 61,974, and the number of
instruments to 41,708. The number of
paid messages was in round numbers
80,000,000, of which 90.000,000 were In
ternational dispatches. The nunit*r of
other telegrams forwarded amounted to
ahoul 7,060,000. M. Newman Hpaliart
gives the following statistics for the
other parts of the world: In America
(1875 to 1877), 114.157 miles of wire;
H. 756 stations; 93.000 000 telegrams. In
Asia (1875 to 1876). 94 581 miles of wire;
tH9 stations; 9 900.000 telegrams. Aus
tralia (1875), 93,589 miles of wire; 089
stations; 9.500.000 telegrams. Africa
(1874 to 1878), 8.148 miles el wire; ltt
stations; 1,200,000 >legrams.
THE HOOD OLD DAYS.
Th* F.tr vacant Mpreaa nt Otir Calabra.
Id VtirclallK-ra.
The following is from an address by
James J'arton before tin New York His
torical Society: This venerable society
lias seen fit for many years to hold ft-asta
especially In June, when the festive
strawberry gladdens the heart of man
lie hnd asked, why this collation every
monthT What connection lietwci-n
sandwiches and history* Hut a vener
able member had" rebuked him, saying
gravely: " J,et no man speak dhi
fully of sandwiches here, lor sand wieh<-s
built this house." One of the firstsst,
of the I'uritans in IWMI was to nbo'.h'i"
that most time-honored and beiav.-cj
feast, Christmas. Home of them made
the observance of the day a matter of
conscience, and the governor had spared
them "till they should he better in
formed;" but he had forbidden public
games on that day. Hut in truth the
l'uritans never succeeded in abolishing
Christmas, although they no longer ob
served it openly, according to the
chronicles. They had simply changed
the date: on which It had been observed
for 3.000 years, and observed it after the
old fashion—on the last Thursday of
November.
The Puritans had little to make merry
with. For years thoy had nothing to
drink but water: and often the only
viand was a lobster, with noticing to
make a salad of. Then it was that the
clam made its appearance in historr
Hut often, when the pilgrim/had made
readv a feast of ground-nuis and claou
i the Indians would come and eat it. 'fo
! put a stop to these breaches of <ti<ju< tt<
the pilgrims hanged a man. not an In
: dian—that would not have been strange
I or original—but they hanged one of
their own numlcer for stca ing from an
1 Indian. In this tragic way the clam ai>
pe&red in history. In this proud and
I haughty town the vender of the c lam,
■ and even the horse who draws ids load!
are often mentioned in tones of dispar
agement ; but it is far otherwise inN* w
England, where they have "grand an
nual Episcopal dam-bakes."
When America began to export fun
and tobacco and coo fish, the people „)
the country lived extravagantly, bring
ing molasses from the West Indies, the*
j soon learned to make rum ol it, and rum
became a circuln'iny medium : hut rum
and tobacco soon vitiated the feasts of
our forefathers. Even at the meetings
of the clergy the room wa
with smoke of tobacco and the steam of
hot rum. If anyone supposed that in
colonial times the people were more
austerely virtuous than they art- now,
let him examine the records of the soci
ety, and he would soon find the magni
tude ol his error. John A
who began the temperance move
ment in this C untry, reeordi
that the price of rum was in
those times a shilling a gallon, though
sometimes it was raised to a pi-tarc -i,
and in small towns there would be a
dozen rum taverns, which were alarm
ingly injurious to the people. Other
records show similar facts. From read
ing Franklin's memoirs, the lecturer, in
common with others, had thought that
sage a temperance man. Hut the saga
cious Franklin, who km ww. 11 wdiat to
tell, omitted to state that after In be
came a prosperous gentleman he was no
longer a teetotaller.
Tlie absurd and barbarous habit of
drinking healths was observed in all its
rigor, but even this was to he preferred
to the slangy habits of modern tim<-s.
I-ater, tea and coffee came into fashion,
though chocolate had preceded these
dainties in the popular favor, and the
ehoeo'ate was commonly boiled with
sausages and the whole met--- eaten with,
a spoon. The coffee in olden times'was
probably very had. and ev<wi a* late a
/John Randolph's time there was erouno
for hi* immoral remark: "Waiter, if
this is tea, bring me coffee; it this if
coffee, bring me tea."
In the time of the revolution, while
the army was starving at Valley Forge
the people in the great cities w r< iv-
Ing in luxury and exlrsvagam<•; :.nd
later, when the commerce of tie i<>untrj
was pour ng in wealth, the style of liv
ing was incredibly luxurious. The con
sequences of this extravagance wr re se
rious. For one thing it broke ut- Pres
ident Washington's cabinet. Pinner*
did it. The salaries of the gecreUrie*
were all insufficient to keep up the style
of living that was thought necessary.
How a Top Climbed a String.
The Japanese top-spinner walked to
the side of the and untied a string
which as soon as it was loosed swung
quickly to the middle of the stage. and
then hung perpendicularly. After un
tying this string, the Japanese took i
top from his assistant, and twirling it
i.i his hand until it revolved quirk y
enough, tie took hold of the end of the
string, and. placing the stem of the tor
at rignt angles to it, left thing* to take
care of themselves.
The top spun a short time at the end
of tue string, hut soon it began to move
slowly upward, still spinning st right
angles witii the string. It continued in
this WAV to move steadily upward unti.
at length it had traversed theentirr dis
tance, and was lost to view behind Hi*
" flics" over the stage.
When the applause that greeted this
trick had subsided, the Japanese moved
the doll-house to the center of the stage
and placed it beside the table. He then
set six topa. exactly alike in size and ap
pearance. spinning upn the table, and
taking a seventh in his hand, indicated
to the spectatorr, by signs, that lie wou d
send it on a journey through the do k
house. He then sat down on the floor,
and curling up his legs. Turk !ashin,
started the seventh topspinning. It ran
along the floor until it reached a sort of
inclined drawbridge leading to the en
trance ol the little house, and then went
slowly to and through the open door.
The juggler waited a moment, as it ex
pecting some signal Irom the now invisi
ble u.p. His suspense was relieved *n
instant later by the tinkling ola silver
bell, which indicated that the top h*d
enten-d one nl the tiny rooms. J"*
Japanese held up one finger and wail'd.
in a listening attitude, for a second sig
nal. It came, as before, in the tinkle <
a hell, upon hearing which the man held
up two fingers. Finally, when ten rooms
had been visited, and ten bells, rung in
this way, had lieen counted on the pw
former'a fingers, he arose and pointed
toward the house, and toward the table,
upon which tlie six tops were yet spin
ning. After a few moments, during
which we silently watched the door ol
the house, tlie top that had been ringing
tlie bells came quickly out of the en
tr.-nce, ran down the drawbridge *
d oppod motionless at the feet of tns
Japanese. That same mom en the top*
on the table stopped and dropped over
on their sides.—a. NiokoUu.
Thar'i on* tiling you a borrow on
your person*] •ecurity^T7sbl*.