Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, May 15, 1879, Image 1
'TEUNS•OB PVBiLIiATION. The UnaDenten ItEronlrEtt,is published every Thursday morning by GOODRICH & IDTCPCOcit, at One Dollar per annum, In advance. —Advertising In all eases Itxcluslve of sub. scription to the paper. SPECIAL NOTICES inserted at Tell CIVITII per line for first lusertion, and Pit - ataxy* per line for ach subsemt:nt Insertion, but no notice inserted for less than fifty cents. ' YEARLY ADVERTISEMENTS will be Insert- Cil reasonable rates. Administrator's and Executor's Notice's, V; Auditor's Notices, ri.so ; Business Cards, Beelines. (pet Year) Or T., additional lines tit each. • Yearly advertisers are entitled to quarterly changes. Transient advertisements must be paid 'for Or advance. i All resolutions of associations; communications of limited or Individual interest, and no'ices of marriages or deaths, expending eve lines are charg. ed ytva c &NTS per linei bet simple notices of inan rlages and do ItlIN will be published without charge.. "'he. itgronTrat having aiarger circulation than any other paper to the county, makes it the best advertising medium in Northern Pennsylvania. - JOB every in plain and fancy colors, done. with neatness and dispatch. Handbills. Blanks, Lards, . Pamphlets, Billheads, Statements dc., of ery variety and style, printed at the shortest . notice. The 13EPORTZU price Is well supplied with power _presses, a good assort ment of new type. and everything in the printing line can be executed In the most artistic manner and at the linkost rates. TERMS IN VARIABLY CASH. 'NUOiIiCSO f r aT6's. , pEcK L OVERTON • ATTOUNZYS-A.T•LAiT, . TOWANDA. A. Tr OVEUTO.S, I) , ODNEy A. MEUCUR, I. ATTORN EY AT4./01', • TOWANDA, PA., onleeln Mont:lllpm Block OVERTON SL SANDERSON, ATTOILN.RY-AT-LAW, • TOW ; AN DA, PA. = W . . 11. JESSUP, ATToRNEY .11 4 ;t1 COUNSELLOR-AT-LAW, MONTROSE. PA .Toage .Tes.up hating resumed the practice of the ,ii• Northern Penat•Tylvanla, will attend to any I •T.: TlOcTsiTTc,s intrusted to Witt In Ilnulfortl county. P I.ltitag to consult Man, can call on St a colcc. Towanda, Pa., when an appointment tan 10. lIEN RY STREETER, ATI , .1c I , * N t °UNE. ELL Olt-AT-LAW, To NV AS ,PA T A NIPS - WOOD - ATTon ToW A N D A, PA. MINI 1.41 L. HILLIS, -440 A TT , N vW A ND A. PA. F. GUFF, - Jo Tp. UNT-LAW, M rn Stret,t (1 sli,"r, hor:11 vr Ward (louse). To. v 6 .L 1 !a, I'a Ai 5'R r H. 'BI PSON, ATTORNEY * I. A W. W \VIII attend Tw untrtiqult iiih care in linvi (ord, , .0 s. ~1 pinivg Counties. Office with Esq. • 1 FI: 1). 1). s. Jo =II t)I•ERATICE. AND MECIIANICAIt DENTIST m',• on Stato gtr , ct, t.econd ntS , Viz. l'ratl'a : air 3 79. r A SON A TTolocrirs-AT-T.Aw, Me. over Bartlett &TraCy,:Maltl-lSt. " • r•MN'IP! , . 1:19 . 777 A it - rill - it 1 4 1 /....S . ; 3llEl•] & SON, A TT‘ , l:,:l S-AT-I..\n, tOW A!' DA, PA. ERM=I .11 ID: KINNEY, MIIIIIreI=IZ9 I+.'ln,—lt.ns f”rinerly occupied by Y. M. d 7. A I: Room. [Jan.:ll'7B. Mcl'llEqoN, A TT4,10; I.l*-A TIWAN DA, PA. 1 - 11 ,et Alry . Er.t. C. W. MIX, A t t r,,nNt.v-Ar-LAw .I'l.l. S. commisstott Tmv.% DA, PA. Ortice—Nl:r,,h :Sae rubllc square, ) A V 11!,§ & CARNOCIIAN, ATTORNEICB-AT-LAW, SIVE OF Witt 1) HOUSE A. IIItEW WILT, t, • ‘ TTOILISEV•AT-LAW.• over. - 'l\linwr & Gordoil'A Dnig - Store. '1 .‘• 3/ay' Le connultedin German. ( (April 12, '76.] • , }, } l 7 : 0 ITN GI AfToIiNEYLAT-LAW I 1. 0117/4N f) A, I'A. .Pl , lllll 'door isoetlt of the First Igal . ..us] 1:‘• sc., up kietrs. WI MANS A: ANGLE, t _ , AT - I'OllN EYS-AT•LAW. • I • F,.—Forin pcciipied by Win, Watkins, (00-17.'1)) E. J. ANGLE =IEEE \\TM. MAXWELL; ATTORNEY-AT-LAW E2MEM met Dayton'ii Store. IMEMM .1 RILL CALIFF, A TTOTC•i ET K-AT-LAW, ToWANDA, PA U". • 1., Wnnii`A Work . , first door sout:a of the First bank, tip-s!airs. A 1)11.1.. ' jare,-73131 J. "I. CALVFF j R. S. M. WOODBURN, Physi , and Surgeon. Orrice over O. A. Black's Cr store. May 1. '' 114721Y . . %kr .B. KELLY, DENTIST.—OffiCe • over. M. E. Ro--entield's; Towanda, Pa. bc•ertVd en 1:01,1, Silver. -Rubber, and Al: Teeth extracted cartniit pain. E . I' ,PANNE, M. D., I . lll's'lClAti ANI) SI'VGEON Mmitativ44` Mlire hours from 10 I. r. M. Special attention 1:,• , • of (lon F.y.• aim! Ear.-0ct.19.16tf. W. R fi; • , 11 CorNTY SrI'EIiINTENDENT 'f!'•' , day lank , Sat I:rday of each moot h, over Turner , ;ordon , :t Drug Store, Towanda, Pa. • - ,, A11 , 1a, 187 A. 1;:_z. 11-PEET, r CACII E OF IAIC 0 s C, TFIIMS.-410 per term. Third street, Ist ward.) 'I -tan. 13,*79-Iy. L i s. RUSSELL'S GENERAL INSURANCE AGENCY T9WANDA, PA. FIRST NATIONAL BANK, TOWANDA, A. 4"11.1T rail) L - URVi.t:B FUXU Rank offers unusual faellltles for the trans n of a general banking business. 'N. N. LI,ETTS, Cashier. POWELI., President. Fob. 14„18:11. SEELEY'S OYSTE4DAY AND ,EritoPEAN lIOUSE.—A few doors southof, hoard by the day or week on r,....n.th1e terms. Warm meals served at all hours al wholesale and retail. febll7. I;`.IGLE HOTEL, _I • (FOUTII SIDE pt ntic SQLTAIVE.) . . 1 1 , 1 , wen-known 110111 SS has been thoroughly rea 1, i`o,ll and repalrod throughout, and the pmprle tot I , no.: prepared to offer, first-class aerorurnod*- te , , ;,, the publie t on the most reasonable terma. T^ , ,,,,1a Pa., May 2, 15713 E. A. JENNINGS.. IVNllt HOUSE, ON THE ECROPXAN PL•N.) ' C:01:xn: RAIN 'a WASMINGTON STREETS TOWAI 4 IDA, TL large, commodious and elegantly-furnished tiss jm,t bettfoitened to the traveling , neither pains nor expenSe hotel Ilist,e!asa In all fis appoint. ?.;;1 respectfully solicits a share . of public iritiol.re. MEALS AT .ALL HOURS. Terms k.c.t the (Imes. Large stable attached. HENtry, PROPILIZTOL . Towanda, June 7, 17-t.f. • COODRtCH & HITCHCOCK. Publishers.. VOLUME XXXDC. When kliugle, klangle, F.3r down the dusty dingle, Tint cows are coming dome—; .`-VoW,. - sweet and clear, now faint and low— The airy tinklings come and go„ Like chlmtngs from the far-off tower, , Or pat Wrings of en April Showai That makes the daisies grow . ; Ho ling, ko.lang, kolingledingle, ' Way down the darkening dingle, The cows come slowly home; ' And old-time blends and twilight plays, Ana starry nights and sunny days,. Come trooping up the misty ways, iVhen the cows come home. BENJ. M. Baca May I, '7O With Jingle; Jangle, jtuglo, Soft tones that sweetly mingle, - The apes are coming home, , Malvin and Pearl and PlotImo!, JOAN F. SANDERSON DeKamp. Red Rose and Gretchen Schell, Queen Bess and Sytph and Spangled Sue, Across the Snide l_hear her "locksao,•• And changher silver belt ; Go-ling, go.lang, With taint, far sounds that micgle, The cows come slowly home ; And mother-songs of long•gond years, AM baby Joys and childish War!, And youthful hopes and youthful fears, When the cows come home. With Angle, rangle, With tiros and threes and single, The cows ate coming borne. Through violet air we see the town. And the summer sun a-slipping down; And the maple In the hazel glade, Throws down the path a longer shade, • And the hills are growing I rown ; To-ring, to-rang, toringle-ringle, - By threes an 4 fours and singe, - - The cows come slowly home; The same sweet sound or wordless psalm ; The same sweet Junelday rest and ca'm ; The ram sweet smell of buds and;balm, When the cows come home.`` Fete 27, '79 [novll-75 With tinkle. tackle, Throughlent and pert winkle, The cows arc coming home ; A loitering In the checkered stream, Where the run-raps glance anti gleam, Peachblootn and ebehe Stand knee-deep in the creamy lilies, Inn drowsy cireaut Todiuk, to-lank, tolitikicrilnkle, O'er banks with Mittel - cups a-twinkle, The cows come slowlyhome ; * And upihrough memory's deep ravine Come the brook's o`.l song and its old-time slicen, Awl the crescent of the silver queen, When tilt cows come home. [April 12, 1877 With klingle. klangie, With 100-00, autl 11100.00,and jingle, The cows are Comlag home ; Anil 1 hear o'er there on 34irlin 11111, Th i c plaintive cry of the uhip -po or-will; AI d the dewdrops lie on the tangled vines, A Id over the poplars Vtuus shines 4 .1.- And over the silent,;mlll: kolingle-lingle, With thig-a.ling and pogle, The cows come slowly home. Lot down the bars; let In the tra'n Of Img-gone songs,Sind lowers, and rain; For dear old trines come - hack egatn When the cows come home. I=3 [feb.l7B liat per'l4,Wetkly " That is th'e place, bailie. k very onlucky house, Sir I would not ad vise you to buy it.". " Pooh! You don't expect an chi 'traveler like, me to be influenced by such a bugbear?" " That is between you and your heart, Sir • but, to tell the truth. it was just because you have traveled, and seen many an up and many a dOwn, that I expected you to be in fluenced by an uncanny name. It is the folks that have •no changes,' that have no fore-knowledge and no Lack-knowledge. I'm not a supersti tious man myself, but thereare things worth mitding—yes, indeed !"` Jan. 1, 1873 TOWAIYDA. PA The" two men had checked their horses before a large gray stone house standing on the slope of a hill that would have been dreary in any eyes but those of Scotsmen. Rugged and bleak, with chimps of dark fir here and there, and patches of dull heather invading the brown bare bits of pasture-ground. The firs•had been thickly planted, round the house, and had in the overgrown of three or four generations " any.attempts at gardening there had ever been. In fact, 'nothing now remained of it ex eept,a weedy, giavelly walk thatled to • a black lake, which spread itself toward the moor, and was tgradually lost in the bogsland - matshes around. " Those hills in the background and ihiS marsh ought to furnish good sport, Brodie." .t "Ay, but birds and red deer know many a thingbeyond our keniing. The deer have left, the hills, and the birds have found cannier places to build in than thtise dark slimy ledges. While they could teach us a lesson, if we were not fob set in our own ways to mind tliem. lam speaking' to ease my own mind, bailie: I know well you will do just as you like." Bailie Allister did not answer at once. Ile took in the whole gray, dreary landscape, with the lichen stained melancholy house in the midst of it, and then asked, abruptly, " What did you call the place, Bro die ?" " I never Called its name at all, Sir. More than a hundred-Years sync somebody called it Crossbasket '— a very proper:tame, for every gene. ration'has seeit its. basket and store crossed more and more, at last basket, store, and mane'y.iioubh are all but empty." " Who is the owner now?" " SholtO MecNair. He's but a poor lad for a laird—aye dawdling about the hills with a pencil, they say." "I think , I will go in and , see him. There is no harm in veering the price of a place." ti "You'll do your will, doubtless, bailie; and - it is none of my interest to say, ' Don't.' Still you arc my own cousin four times removed, and I would- be loath to see you buy bad luck with good gold." " I am not set on' •buying, Brodie. To tell the truth,. I knew this lad's Mother twenty-five years ago, and I would like to sec her sou. Poor Grace Lorimer ! You'll mind Grace Lorimer, Brodie?" ' "'I mind her well, bailie. She has been dead many a year now. and you are bent on seeing her son, a " good-day 'to you; it is little time I have for picking up dropped threads." ...$12:4000 110.000 So the lawyer and his friend part ed—the one trotting gently back to the city; the other, after tying his horse to the gate of the decaying house, sauntering thoughtfully to ward-its entrance. foslst. WHEN THE 00W8 00/LE ROM. gekded Cak. The. Unlucky House. i ~- `~ His summona r.t the door was an swered by an old woman; whose first greeting was anything but hospita ble: "Ye needna ring sae loud, Sir; we're neither deaf nor dead within." " Can Lsee Mr. Mae Nair?" " That depends on wha's speering for him: The laird canna be intruded on by every sue that has mair time . than gowd or sense." . Then'a door softly.opetied, and a yoUng man in a loose, slovenly un dress approached. ":Walk in, Sir," he said, with a manner that.indica at once' the nervousness of the' re-' close and the courtesy of a natural gentleman. There was a bright fire in the room into which he preceded his visitor, but it did little to relieve the air of utter decay and desolate neglect which was its prevailing character. The stone floor was but partially cov ered with a ragged carpet, the furni ture was broken' and moth-eaten, the walls were stained with damp and the dropping paper green with mildew. The bailie felt a sudden chill, audit was difficult fdr a moment to state his errand. When at length it was done, the young lad sighed and an swered: " Dead? Yes, Sir. She die•l( a slow, weary death in this very Teem. Perhaps you were her friend ?" • "So truly her friend that I would fain be a friend to her child ;" .and he stood up and offered his-hand with a frank, hearty manner quite irresis tible to the sensitive young than. He . was a youth, indeed, apt to inspire a liking in .a heart linking him with tender memories. He had a bright, spiritual face, set in soft dark curly hair, Norse. bone and Celtic blood, and that quick observation and qui pathetie.nature that is always ready to. take a hint or develop a resource. . Utmscquently it was easy for a person disposed to be his friend to find out the hest way to extend help. True, he had a youth's shame about poverty, but he had also youth's hope and youth's confidence in his own re sources. He eilibited with a kind of eager modesty his numerous pictures and studies of Scotch life and scen ery, and the old man knew enough and had traveled enough to be aware that they showed signs of great genius. . But it was - , not these pretentious works. that attracted him the most; it was some papers lying loosely on We table, covered with quaint de signs of flowers and stairs and dots and crosses. He lifted these with the curiosity 'and the' 'eye .of one who thoroughly understands a subject and is greatly interested in it. . Sholto. bluShed.deeply, and 'nervously tried to.. draw off his .visitor's attention. But the bailie seemed fora few utes quite absorbed in the work and in his own thoughts. Then he ejacu lated, " Beautifull Are those your designs, Mr. MaeNnir?" " Yes, Sr;. ldo a little tbat way sometimes. In tact,.l , am obliged to, until I can get my pictures into a proper market." " Why, these duSigns are exquisite. To whom do you sell them ?" " John 'iOrr buys . all, I make." c" No wonder their sewed muslins have such - a sale ! .Sholto Mae air, if'yon will come into the city and de sign .for my factory for two years, yoti will ,have money enough for Rome and the Rhine. What do you say ?" •It was not quite easy to p‘rsuade the young man that his pictures were not masterpieces, and that he ought to devote two years to the drudgery of .money-making, in order that he might devote many years after them to travel and study. But. at length the bailie succeeded, .the wretched home was` abandoned, and &Otto took his d'Ok in the designing room of the great .sewed muslin firni Bailie Archibald .Allister. It was about six months afterward that Lawyer Brodie called one eve ning oir his cousin Allister. There was - business of an impoitapt nature in the Call, but after it had been com pleted, and the two men" had eaten a blackcock and drunk a glass of tod dy, their. conversation gradually drifted into a lesi pCrsonal. and less selfish strain. ‘; How is =Sin)lto Mae Nair getting along, bailie?" " Ile is doing well—saving money. and working hard." It is the fourth gene ration: maybe the curse lifts a little by this time. Unto the third and foUrth generation'—that's how it • reads, bailie." • " I never rightly understood' the matter, Brbdie." The sins of the fathers, unto the third and—" " Oh, I know that, of courfe. But what what sin has shawdowed the lad's fathers, and how is he restionsi ble for it? The old Mosaic law is a hard one, Brodie.- Thank God, : it is Bethlehem and not Sinai now!" " ion'll say nothing against .the law of Moses, bailie. It is just and right—just and right; - there is no lawyer in the . land will say different. If !Lanald Mac Nair chose to lay the foundation , stones .of his house in bloodjust and right it is that his children pay the price and be a r the stain of ft." For afew minutes the two men sat gilently sipping their toddy and look ing into the blaze; then Bailie Allis ter said,: " This. Ranald Mac Nair was a a law yer and a judge of the Court f "'A scoundrel and a murderer- of the worst kind, bailie. My grad fa: Cher sat' beside him on the bench for twenty years." Thep there was another pause, but Bailie Allister knew better than to breakiit. - He let the spell of the flick cring]'.fire-light and of the sensitive expectant silence tell upon the heart of the old lawyer ; and presently, af ter quietly making himself another glass of Ulenlivet,, he said, in a low, thoughtful voice; "I'll.tell you, bailie, what •I know about it, and there is .no one knows mole, for we havo'done the Mac Nair businesi nearly eighty years, though I am free to say it is quite against my ordinary way to talk abOut my clients. "This Ranald Mac Nair was a black-looking Highlandman, and son of Donald Dim- Mac Nair, as fierce and bad a mad a 4 ever the Mac- _ . • TOWANDit, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., 111URSDAY MORNING, MAY 15, 1879. Na'ar clan. I have naught at all to do with the quarrel between him and his father and elder brother ho aye boasted that it had not been 'a dry quarrel,' but in those days the dirk settled every dispute north of the Grampians, and civilized folk hardly cared to interfere. " Anyhow, Raynald came south. ward with a dark name, and, strange. ly enough for such a fierce spirit, he entered a term of law with-the house of Caldwell at Faudler. Some folks just hated his dark lace and domi neering ways, but my grandfather took to the proud highlander won derful. I don't know what for, unless maybe that David Maelifaiater h ated him, and David and my grandfather were born foes. ° They-had no personal or partian !ar quarrel, but David and Ranald had; for both of them fell in love with bonnie Maggie Faulder—just as mad in love as two such proud, set in-their-own-way fellows were like to .be. Maggie kind . or favored David; and. Ranald swore if he married her, he might buy a dirk with the wed ding .ring. • _ " Then old .Faudler sent Maggie away to some southward friends, and David and Ranald went on ,to the roll of his Majesty's attorneys, and both of them settled dolin to plead.; ing causes and •attending to other people's business. "But. they were always watching one another-; and when David was ,put up fur some rich county oilice7- Clerk of the Rolls, I think—Ranald was furious, and spent both time and gold freely in . order to defeat him. I suppose lie did it.. Anyhow, his 4zip ponent,Jairie.3 Laing, won, and David was out of place and pocket. Soon itiler,'James Laing was found dead in his office, with a dirk through his throat. "Suspicion_ gathered swiftly and certainly around Dairid MacMaister. He - was, as 1 have said before, a pas sionate and proud man. It could not be denied that he had.spoken bitterly of his, of)ponent, and many a threat uttered in anggr was now iemembered against him. _ . "His arrest and imprisonment seemed to deprive him almost of his .senses. lie denied .his guilt in t i. most solemn terms, but could give no account of himself during the hour in which the murder had been com a 'flitted, except that he had been in liquoi in his,own-room. This apology added little to his defense, and many, even of his intimate acquaintances, believed him to be guilty. " Probably because of the well- . known hatred between the men , the proseeutiOn selected Itanald Mac- Nair to conduct their case. Nothing so exciting as this trial had agitated every circle - of society since the land ing of Prince Charlie. Houses were divided, friends quarreled, and im mense bets were laid on its issue. " While •it was pending, Maggie Faulder returned, and Ranald wags now doubly anxious for the success of his prosecution. It was wonderful what acumen. and industry and .elo quence he .brought to bear on it. .His summing up and fi nal speech electri fied every one. There was a solemn and awful stir of applause at its.close, an 4 . eVerybody considered the verdict settled. " But the judge was a just and merciful man, and he did not put the question that night; he thought; you see that it was only fair to let the men have time 'to locik at both sides c4olly. Still Renald was sure of,his verdict, and g reatly elated a t . th e . sensation he h 6 ad . niade, especially as Mr. Faulder stopped to congratulate him, and even the beautiful Maggie, pale and tearful as she was, faltered out some words which he took for a compliment. • " Hee k had a score of invitations to dinner,that night, but lie was too tri umphant:and happy to trust himself where wine might make bird reveal the devil of gratified hatred and re venge in his. heart. He had his din ner in his own chaqbers, and then in reflections after his own heart passed several hours. In them he fell asleep, tor toward midnight he was aroused by a shake so powe4ul that he Would have leaped to his - ffet only that two brawny hands held him tight in his cliair. " In a moment his senses were all alert, and he saw bending.over him .a gigantic _llighlandman, in whose thews.. he knew even his strength would be as that of a baby. " ' You are a Campbell, I know by' your' plaid. Now what do you want with me.?' asked Ranald, fiercely. . " Sit still, and don't move an inch while I tell you. I killed James 'Laing. I killed him because, while he was shooting-on. the braeS of An gus last year, he wronged. my sister so deeply that I behooved to kill het, too. I watched until all his new fol lowers had gone, theft I walked into his room and put my dirk thrOugh his throat. I had wrongs to right, ~and I righted them; but the.man you spoke against to-day knows noth ing of the matter. I don't want to Murder him, too. Tell the police that the. man who killed James Laing is Alexander Campbell: They can - look for him in.Bute—:maybe they'll find him, and ` maybe they will not.' "Without another Word he was gone. 'and Ranald was too shocked to detain him, even if he had had the power. However, he made no spon taneous effort, and when reflection came he determined not to do it. He could not bear to give up his triumph ; he knew; the temper Of popular feel ing, and was sure that, David's inno cence assured, David would become the popular idol. He had biboredfor his ruin—bow could he now givFup his object ?' And then he thought 'of Maggie, and that thought decided him. No, nothing should now' induce him to retrace his steps. - " The'.tiext morning in court he had anothar chance to clear his soul.. The prisoner had received from some person in the press a paper assuring him that: Repaid had been - notifled.of his innocence, and would proclaim it in the court. David begged the offi cer to pass thi s paper over to Renald,. and he eagerly.scanned,his face while he read it. The two enemies looked a moment into each other's eyesiand then Renald e with a scornful smile; tore the paper into fragments. '` So, David •was sentenced that fi - a _ -• ' . - _'Llli•-- " - - . • - - 1 . _ s ~- , • • I . , . • , . - ~ .. i . , , 1, j 1 i - .:- , _ REGARDLESS OP DENUNCIATION FROM - Aity QOARTER. day, end in due timehung with all the circumstances, of barbarity and indignity _then common -to the last act of thelaw. If lienald felt himself a murderer he did not show it, and no visible judgment followed his crime.- He rose rapidly in Ms pro fession, married Maggie Faulder, built yon house at Crosabasket, and was finally made one of the Lords of Session. " Hut long lx fore this some people had began to notice that he was a haunted man.- . I say 'some people,' because there are men and women I that arc just-lumps of clay, and never see anything beyond their own meat and money matters." " A haunted map;-Brodie What dO youjnean?" " Just what I say, Allister. The man he had: , hung called him from bed and board and bench, and he was compelled to go. His face turned gray with mortal agony; and the ser vants told strange tales of cries and voices and of fierce struggles, which always left their master more dead than alive. The doctors gave these attacks some grand Latin name; but the man was far beyond their help. " One night he was awfully wretch ed and restless, and insisted on hay only the company of his eldest grandson, a bright lad of three years old.' At midnight there was the old -stzuggle and the cries, and the child ran--pobbing down -the great stairs, halt - crazy with a terror that he never caul(' explain ; for it was not likely ;he: could deser be in the language of -this world things that bolonged to another." o . And Renald Mac Nair ?" " Was found dead this time, and his room was locked to this day. The little lad present at that last aw ful struggle was Sholto's father. He carried the memory of that hour into every hour - of his life, and I think that he never either hoped or tried to avert the poverty and sorrow he believed to be - ; the best Indgment of his house. He was a pics man; but 4e.. _held this world's goods wp loose ger). Sholto, you , say, is pru dent and world-like?" e, " I have nothing against him but his constant hankerinenfter work that will never' pay him._ Nobody cares for historical paintings and pic ture castles, Brodie." "No, no; and why should- they ? Tell him 'to paint piOraits ; .every one thinks his own face makes the best .pictu re." , But in a feW months Bailie Allis ter had a still greater cause of disap probation. Among the girls in his factOry•was one of by beauty, known generally by her companions as " Lady Jennie." Popular nomen clature is rarely wrong, and Jennie's stately beauty deserved the title giv en her. Sholto's admiration was so marked that his friend could hardly. avoid interfering in the matter. So he made the inquiries he thought proper, and then asked Sholto to come and dine with him. Sholto was quite prepared for the discussion, and when Bailie Allister proposed that he should now go to Rome and pursue his studies, the proposition had been foreseen and considered. , He answered, quietly, that he had been preparing for such a step some time, that he bad firiished designs'ennleient for the house's need until his place could be properly filled, nnd that he was now only.wait ing for his marriage, which would be . performed the following week. " You know who you are going to marry, Sholto, I suppose ?" _•" Yes, I know. I was afraid , she would not have me; but she is an angel, dnd litu3 . 'forgiven all." " She has heard, then, of the wrong your great-grandfather- did .her houge ?"' " She hag heard that nanald Mac- Nair deliberately kept back facts which would have saved her• great uncle from a shameful and early death ; but she knows that, Sholto Mae Nair bad neither part nor lot in that son, and that he would die him. stlf rather than hurt a hair of her head." - " She is but a working-girl, Sholto." " I am not fit to touch , her hand, bailie, she is that nobly born ; and I hope, for my mother's sake, you will bless our bridal." SolSholto and his wife went to Rome t and the old house of. Cross basket grew every year more dreary and melancholy-looking. Nobody asked to rent it, nobody asked to buy it, and the marsh grew so upon the garden every year that people began to prophecy the place would be eventually swallowed up by the bogs and water. For sonic time little was heard of Sholto. The bailie thought it a good sign. •" The lad," he said, " is happy with :his wife; and busy with his brush." Events justified this opinion, for. Sir Thomas MacGilvery, Lord Provost of Edinburg, having gone to Itqly in the seventh year of Sholto's islAence, Vought back with him a wonderful painting of the broken hearted King James entering Edin- - burg after the woful field of Floddeii; and Sholto Mac Nair was the artist. Far and wide the fame of the work spread, and Bailie Allister and Law yea Brodie !ea. purposely to Edin burg to see- " A wonderful pic ture," they both allowed, but the law yer grumbled a little at the subject. "It was just as easy," he said, "to choose a triumph as a disaster. But the MacNiiirs are to ill luck, I think." Perhaps the lawyer never said any thing that had.soapeedy a refutation; for the very next day the bailie had an offer which caused him to write to Sholto and urge his immediate return to Scotland. In a few 'weeks after this he was riding once more out to Crossbasket; but this time Sholto and "Lady Je nnie " . and their two daughters were with him. They wan dered through the old house, which even in the bright summer sunshine had an eerie, mournful, uninhabitable look, and Sholto grew strangely si lent, and Jennie shuddered and gath ered her children close to her side. It was the last time they were ever to see the old walls, for Shulto had sold House and lands to the city for .fBO,OOO, and the house was to be razed, and the marsh drained, and the hills and desolate" fields laid out in Pleasure-grounds for the burghers of the great city. All this had been long-accomplish ed, and the . history of Crossbasket almost forgotten, when Bailie Allis ter and Lawyer Brodje again dis cussed the subject. They had met at Elholtoll splendid residence to assist in the celebration of his eldest daugh ter's marriage, and on their way home they naturally enough reverted to /Motto's fortune. " That sale of the old place to the city was a grand thing for him," said the bailie. "It was not such an un lucky house, after all. Eighty thou sand pounds! • What if I had bought it yon day twenty yeari ago? May belwe were both too supeistitious, Brodie." • "-Speak for yourself, Allistei. It is well known that feW can follow the twists and turns of Scots law better than I can, but . I'm not so full of My own wisdom as to think I understand everything between heaven and earth. No, bailie, I'm not a superstitious man ; but there are things beyond our kenning—yes, indeed !" FEEDING A PYTHON. The following details of a recent attempt to feed a python now at the Raffles Museum, Singapore, may be of interest as upsetting previous ideas as to the certainty of that reptile's attack: "The python in question is a fine specimen, caught on the island for the sake of the reward given by the police in such cases, and meas ures about twenty-two feet in length. It,has been in my charge for about two and a half months, during which time it his not been fed. About ten days since it commenced casting its skin, and, as is usual after that pro ceeding,-was unusually lively, snap ping at a stick put into the cage, and, in- one or two instances, narrowly missing the attendant's hand. The reptile, I should mention, escap.d from its cage just before casting, but, having taken refuge beneath some odds and ends 'of timber near the museum, was - recaptured . without difficulty, and was then placed in a cAge About five feet square every way. A pariah dog having been obtained, it-was introduced, muzzled, into the the cage, the muzzle being then slip ped. While entering, the snake struck twice at the dog's hind-quar ters, but without seizing it. - The dog crept into a cornet .and sat down. Two or three more blows were Wen male by thel snake, but, ak - before, without gripping, and the- dog was then seen to have been struck by the teeth on the fore-quarters, the punc tures slightly- bleeding. For nine successive times the snake struck at the dog with the same ill-success; and as it was then growing dark, the shutters of Abe cage were closed. Early next morning the snake was tound coiled round the dbg, which it had killed and commenced to swal low •, but a Malay attendant having touched the python with a rod, it un twined ;tself and retreated to a cor ner of the cage, refusing to again touch its prey." HAPPY A Nswxas.A pretty .long list might be made of men who have owed' their advancement in life to a_ smart answer given at the right .mo ment. One of Napoleon's veterans, who survived his master many years, was wont to recount with great glee how be had. once picked up the Emperor's cocked bat at a review, when the latter not noticing he was a private, said carelessly, " Thank you, Captain." "In . what regi m eat, -Si re. ?" instantly asked the ready witted Sol dier.- Napoleon, preceiving his mis take, answered with a smite, " In my Guard, for I see you know how to be prompt." The newly-made officer re-• - eeived his• commission next morning. A somewhat; similar anecdote is fe lated of Marshal Suvoroff, who, when receiving a disVatch from the hands of a Russian Sergeant who had great ly distinguished himself on the Dan ube, attempted to confuse the mes senger by a series of whimsical ques tions, but found 'him fully equal to the occasion. " How many fish are in the sea?" asked Suvoroff. "All that are not caught yet," was the an " How - fat is it to the moon?" "Two of your Excellency's forced °marches." " What would you do . if you saw your men giving way in bat tle?" "I'd tell them that thef e was a wagon-load of whisky just behind the.enemy's line." Baffled at all points, he ende I with. "What's • the difference between you Colonel and myself?" "My. Colonel can not make me a Lieutenant ; but your Ex cellency has-only to say, the word." " I say it now, then," answered Suv oroff, " and, a right good officer you'll be."—N. Y. Times. Mss. Moanstit Was an Irish lady lately deceased, who, in her 'youth, was a member. of the .31ilwaukie household when Lady Byron, after many quarrels with her husband, re- turned to her father's house. Those quarrels ended one-moaning itt, break fast, when Lord Byron was in a " tantrum," and his wife brought matters tot) a crisis:by asking, proud , ly,„ "Byron, am I in your way ? " Byron; leaning against the mantle piece, answered, savagely, " Yes, damnably !" Lady Byron. immedi ately left the room, and soon after the house. She. .never saw her hus band. again,and " damnably" was the laseworis from his lips which fell upon her ear. THE IMITATION. "Come down', come down, oh, fisherman, Unto the river blue; Come down and angle In the tide, Oh, come, I pray of you "Oh. come and, sit beside the stream • , That Dowstinrsad the sea. And cast yon': fly add drink your rye. - And happy, happy be t "The fish bite keg,_ the fish bite strong, • The sky Is blue and gray • Go dig your bait and do not wait. But bane, oh, haste away I" The Ashenuan be shook his head, ti The fisherman be swore, / And for many a mile the enwodile • Thus sang along the stare. • • NEw evening dmies are made with Marie Antoinette parders. . SLIPPERS of satin, embroidered with Lead beads, are Morn by brides. • . • I \ I. - - • SEMMERING THE LOST CLOSE. (At fling by the Ed Canfedera Congresw; wsw, • styfe. Air. "Kitty 'Keay:* Theysmote our holy cause to dust At apple-treir; We bowed our heads because we must • And followed still our leader, Lee, 'B4 to 1 today we have oar way; We heed no Yankee frown— HAM llbYaat . We• 11 cut the Army down • . • We cut that army down before— .ln Shinandoah's verdant vale, . On Wagner`. slope. by Shiloh chore, But It followed mom trail. Now, -Meet* We the mien be— We need no Yankee frown— _flab& 111-Yaa We'll cut the Army down I We eat it down on Malvern Mil, On Bappahantmek's floating bridge, By Villow'S wall, at Shelbyville, ' • Amid the flame of Minion Ridge; It rose again Bat now as them ' We heed no Yankee frownr— Haha I HI-Yaa! • We'll Cut the Artny dews: Our noble South shall yet be free! The enemy whose fight was won . Beneath the Appomattox tree Shall lose the day In Washington With Iron bend we rule the land I We heed no Yankee frown— Heil! 111-Yes I Went cut the Army down I GOSSIP ABOUT TEE MEMEL ITbo bright si ....e s .. )pring weather or ie, past fAvdays has had -the effect of making the promenade streets resplenc'ent with bril liant hues; from the rich .fabries and gau dy materials used by the dear ladies in their personal adornment. Don't think I intend to be cynical or sarcastic, when I speak .of the innumerable throng that compose the gay and well-dressed pedee trienes that walk on our sidewalks, as "dear" in the sense of inappropriateness of expense, although I recognize the truth' contained in the answer to the sailor's conundrum, why is,a well-dressed lady like a ship? "Because the rigging costs"more than the hull." Never hail there been more variety of material, or more elabe -1 ration in the styles than offers for the se lection Of those who acknOwledge the. -powers and dominion of the tyrant Fash ion than is now shown in the several lead ing shops iu this city. The windows are resplendent with the costliest , goods, dis playing all the colors of the rainbow. The prevailing fashion seems to run in the . line of bright colors, and , the effect upon the street is very striking, and where anything like good taste and judgment is displayed, not unpleasant. There has been a remarkable eh:•nge in_respect to gay-colors and elaborate styles, within the past few years; and what would a short time since been pronounced "loud" , or even "fast," is now not only tolerated, but accepted as "the style." And "style" is now what makes the cost of dreising so fearfully expensive. The price of the material of which a garthent is composed, is but a nominal sum compared with the trimmings and la ' bee which are required before the realiza-. tion of the artistic skill and design of the. modiste is fully established. .The true ar tistic adopts the colors and style to the form and complexion of the wearer, and the result is harmony, and beauty ; 'bill a toilette not in keeping with either is ontre and displeasing . The great mistake. made by my sisters in . patterning after some fashion, which is illy adapted to * , either* .their style, shape or complexion. Most of them I claiin, !have an intuitive' judg ment which lead' them to dress becom ingly, which: ho; ever is in some cases, overcome by weak desire and personal vanity. As. in Shakespeare's time; "the apparel oft proclaimed the man" so the appearance of the female denotes in some instances, the want of jcidgment or the pe culiarities of taste. A harmonious blend ing of colors, and a harmony of style is always recognized and passed to the cred it of the wearer, while the mistaken exlii-. bition of illy-chosen tints and. badly se, lected-styles, worn without regard to-the surroundings, fails to accomplish the true design of female adornment, viz : to sat isfy the innate and universal love for the beautiful. Not intending to supply the lady read ers of the REPORTER with directions and information which are the province of the dress-maker and milliner I shall not copy. from the - fashion publications, but hold the "mirror up to nature" by trying to describe some of the novelties which 1 have noticed. Street; or walking suits arc made shorter than lastseason ;indeed so short as to show the dainty //Mine, and to allow the free and comfortable use of the feet in walking. The long and trail ing dresses will not be seen so often up:in the street, and new devices 'for sweeping the pavements will be necessary, as the ladies no longer perform that work. , A handsome short suit was made of cash mere, in delicate brown, garnitured onthe skirt by side plaitei ruffles of the ma terial, beaded by tuck shirring of silk in olive-brown, and this is still healed by . grass fringes in both shades ; the front of the dress is composed of three deep van dykes, the centre one of cashmere, and on each side of silk with elustcred shir ring in the centre ; the ends of the three points being secured by a. bow of silk; the basque has collar and reyers of silk, while the front is closed with ornamental buttons in decorated pearl. Among the evening dresses is one of black . net, in Princesse sham most artis tically-draped and trimmed' with French lace, and garlands of/embroidered mar guerites with their green leaves. One of the'most delicate dresses is of white or gandie, combined with' embroidery and valenciennes lace. In the back a wattean plait from thc(waist line down, . is demo rated withilie lace and embroidery in Perpendic lar lines, and graduating .side pieces qt the same dainty fabrics are ar ranged in the side fronts, curving down to the train. Unbleached Malin : will enter quite z lirgely into use as a fabric for dresses for summer wear, made with kilt skirt,: and washerwornan dripery, trimmed with blue biown, black and ecru braid. These suits are - designed to take the place of the colored cambric and linen • dresses which have been worn for the'past few season's. Among the latest goods for-spring and summer wear, is "Fonland silk. Peking stripes and brocade are still the reigning fabrics for trimming plain silk. The newest thing now displayed, is what our grandmothers called a reticule, and no lady of any pretension would be seen in the street, without one dangling on her arm. They are made of all shapes WE $l.OO Der Annum In Advance. N.tyr Yoinc, May 10, 1579. ring %eathe thr NUMBER 50 and sizes. Some are of black satin plain or worked with embroidery, leaves or for get-me-nots, Others with beads, the top or rather lining being of any bright color, .to match-the snit or hat. , They are very useful to ladies shopping, to carry the handkerchief or purge. • Ladies who haVe had a grandmother will probably find amongst their effects the precise' article which is just now solashionable. Woollen shawlr, of very light texture and in' delicite shades,. with deep ball fringe are called Isabella and Augnßta. They are so light and pretty and the prices so kiw, that they promise to super- . Bede the Shetland shawl which has been so long worn. • • The hair is still worn in puffs, and a .loug braid down the back of the head ; also'nets are worn for very young girls, with just a bow of ribbon on top of the head. For evening the hair is wpm quite, high on the bead. . The .shirred cap, such as used last spring, with a slight variation in the ar rangement of the shirring, will be the most desirable thing for children, and looks very neat and becoming. The new parasols have sixteen ribs in stead of eight. They are very expensive and handsome and gay, being zebra strip ed and dotted and spangled and all colors. SOme are elaborately embroidered, others trimmed with lace.. I don't know as I can better describe them, nor tell, the la dies how to"economize until they are con tent to go without or carry a gingham umbrella. Of all the articles of feminine apparel, Which has manifested a disposition to run to extreme,,hosiery takes the lead.- Ladies stockings are made of the brightest colors, "ring streaked• and speckled." .Plaids, .stripes, checks, •and`sialid colors, _can be had in every possible shade and variety. Embroidered hose is now the rage. And ladies who have exhausted the 'ceramic epidemic, can now save money and be in fashion by buying good . plain unbleached . hose, and embroidering them to snit their own fancy. They are worked with leaves, rases and vines. Pricing some stockings the other day, E. found that they were valued at fren4lo to . #25: Of course they were silk andrlace work, but nearly' as handsome could be made in the man neAsuggest at a small cost. ; A very pretty Tashion is a bow of ribbon for the hair, forined of Wide or narrow ribbon, made in an old-fashiohed bow, and fastened ontop of the head, and you have something new for the _hair. The color should be selected to suit the com plexion or the dress. The spring fashions seem to set in the old-fashioneddirection . of a revival of the bustle or pannier. It is formed at present s. not by crinoline, nor old newspapers, but by the drapery of the dress itself cut in such a way and draped to procure the ef fect of the pannier. -- Fashion may decree the re-establishment of this , pecullaritY, possibility demand the wearing of the ex pansive crinoline; and the'clinging, statu esque drapery. with its revealment of the outlines of the form, pass away to be seen only in obsolete fashion plates. Whatev- - er fashion decrees we Must follow, wheth er the style has - been invented to correct deformities or designed . W give grade and beauty to the wearer .. " Love. rules the camp and the court,". but fashion rules aft. Vours, LlATrin MAY. CURIOUS CALculaTioss.—The vast numbei of inhabitants who now live, and haVe lived, Apon the face of the earth,'appears at_ fitst `sight to defy the pOwers of calculation. 'But if we suppose• the world to have existed six thousand years; , - that-there now; exist one thousand, 'million people ; that 'a generation - passes ..away in thirty years; that every.past genera ? ' tion averages the present; and that four individuals may. stand on one square yard, we find that the whole 'number will not occupy a compass so great as one-fourth the extent of England. Allowing' six thousand years since the creation; and a, gene-. ration - to pass away in thirty years, we • shall have two hundred genera tions,which, at one thousand million each, will be two hundred thousand million; this being divided by four, (persons to a square yard,) will give fifty thousand million square yards ; there are in a square mile three mill ion ninety-seven thousand six hun dred square yards, by Which if the former awn be .divided, it will give sixteen thousand, one hundred and forty-one square Miles; the root of which, in whole numbers, is one hun dred and twenty-seven; so-that one hundred and .twenty-seven •square miles will be-.found sufficient to con-. twin the immense and alinost incon• Ceivable number of two htmdred thou sand million human beings, which vast number , rather outnumbers the seconds of tithe that have passed since the 'Creation.* THE LARGEST TREE. IN THE WORLD. —There is now on exhibition in San Francisco one of Nature's wonders' in the shape of the largest tree in the world. This gigantic specimen of Nature's handiwork was discovered by Professor Chowles, a geologist,- in 1874. It grew on Tule river, Tulare county, California about seventy-five miles from Visalia. • At some far distant period its top had been broken off by unknown forces ; yet, when discovered, it had an eleva _tion of two hundred and forty feet. The body of the tree where broken was twelve feet to diameter, and-.had two vast limbs, measuring •respective ly nine and ten feet In diameter— which would seem to indicate that its original altitude had been. much greater than two hundred and forty feet. The trunk of this colossal pro duct of vegetation reached the enor mous. measurement of one , hundred and eleven feet. The huge tree is called" Old Moses" from the fact of it having grown near a• mountain of that name, and is . ' said — to be four ,thousand eight hundred and forty years old. There is said to be nine hundred cords of wood in the whole tree. Wurrs linen vests are among the nov elties shown on lingerie countera. - : Imola:. fringe fur evening dresses is made of strings o[-white glass beads. . Oununs jackets for suits aro Mill made cutaway, with velvet or silk vests. Pinstax canvas is a new material for a DIM DmMOID. He wasn't one Of these shiny, gbod looking chaps that - I see' every:day hanging about the depots- dressed in a long overcoat and _plug - hat, and with seemingly no other business than to swing a dandy' cane and stare at the ladies. He don't wear his hair, : parted hi the middle. To tell the strict truth, I don't believe it .wai parted at all, for it stood out all over his head in every direction, and re minded one strongly of 'a bush 'on _ fire. That he was from the country one could see _with - bar an eye; the _evidence of rural life were.so plainly marked. His great, round, ,-good natured face had-been kissed by the Km until -it was the hue or a poeny, and was studed with freckles as thick as spots on the back of a speckled _ hen. .His hands were so large that one of them would have made Iwo' goad-sized ones for a dandy, and left some to spare. He wore number fourteens, patent—, no, I mean eowbides,.with his pants tucked in to show their yellow tops. his emit" fitted bini about like .a school-boy's jacket, and was of a variety of colors now, owing to long image and ex posure. Whisps of straw protruded' from the poe.kets and hung from every catchable place about him. In one hand he carried his broad-brim med straw hat, and in other an old carpet bag, which had lost the lock, being fastenedethe r with a piece of wool twine , and . although greatpains had evidently been taken with this, it failed to conceal stray • glimpses of neither garments and something that look immensely like a red'flannel night-cap. Seating himself by the side of an elegantly-dressed ladye and putting the aforesaid= bag between his feet for safe keeping, he drew out his red bandarana and mopped off his fore head. - The lady drew away her silk skirts impatiently, and with a frown said plainly : " You're out of your place, sir." But he didn't seem to nitice it in the least, for very soon he turned to her, and remarked ; good-natnredly: "-An all-fired hot, day, marm 1 Go ing fur?" ... The lady deigned no reply. Supposing hin3self unheard, he re peated, in :louder tone: "An all-tired - hot day! I say, warm, going fur?" ' No reply but a look of supreme in dignation.. " Why !" lie exclainie,d—evidently for the benefit of the whole crowd— " the poor critter's deaf." . Bending forward, he screamed.: • " I'm sorry you're deaf, marml How long have you been so ?-'l‘f you warn't born so, maybe 'tis only 'ear wax what's hardened In your ears. - I know what'll cure that, sure as guns! It curesl my trqle Ezra. I'll give you the. recipe, l marm, an' welcome perhaps you'd !letter write it down. Take a leetic soap and water, warm "Sir," said the lady, rising, her eyes.blaging with wrath, " do - yen in tend to insult me? I Shall complain &you to the police !!' and she swept haughtily out - of the depot. "Weal, I .never!" he exclaimed. " I'm beat! What struck her ? - I'm sure I was jest a speakin' for her good.. I was, only a goin' to say: Take a leetle soap and water, warm, and syriage L it into the . ears three times'a day. It's sure; an' I'll- bet my.best heifer on it, if she'd only heerd to.a feller, it would have done the business for her. But some folks never like to - hear their unfortunities spoked, and I s'spose I hadn't orter a took any notice omit," and • he- re lapsed into silence. - Presently.the western train came due, and a tired.lookin-gwoman came in. with - two children hanging to her skirts and a baby in her arms, beside a band-box and a satchel. It was the only seat vacant. - She sank into it with a,vreary sigh, and tried to,hush the fretful baby. and keep watch of the two other reatless Alutteringhud gets, who were also tired and fretful, and kept teasing--for this and-that until -the poor mother looked ready to 'sink. - " Pretty tired, warm ?" remarked Jonathan. " Going fur " To Boston, sir," replied the lady, courteously. • . " Got to. wait long?" " Until three." (glancing at me.) " Oh,dearies ao be quiet ; and.don't tease mother any more." ' " Look-a-here, you youngishavers, and see what I've got, in my pocket," and he drew out a, handful of pepper mint drops. In it few minutes they were- both- upon his knees, eatidg their, candy and listening_ eagerly while he told them wonderful stories abOut the -sheep and calves at - home. But the baby wouldn't go to sleep. lleotas quite heavy, ,and wanted to beaossed the whole time. Jonathan noticed this ;_ and finding a _string somewhere in the depths. of his old carpet-bag, he taught the two child ren a. game which he ' Cradle." Soon they were seated on the depot flooi, as happy as two kit tens. :" Now let- ine take that youngster, infirm . " he' said K'you look clean beat put. I guess 'I can please him. I'm a powerful hand with babies," and he tossed the - great luinp of flesh . , rip until it , crowed with delight. By and by - it dropped :its head upon _his . shoulder and fell faKasleep. Two hours — afterward I. peered through the wiedow, as he - helped her and her belongings aboard -the cars, and-I don't believe if he had been the Czar of • Russia she could have looked any more grateful or thanked him any sweeter. • "'ain't nothin' at all, maim," heard hi 4 say, bashfully, but I knew she. thought differeritly, and so did I. Ile came back, resumed his seat, and buying a pint'of peanuts from a thin-laced little girl—giving ;twelve cents instead of ten for them—sat munching away in hearty enjoyment until the northern train caine due._ Then he snatched his dilapidated carpetbag and that of an old lady's near by, who was struggling feebly toward the door. " Lean - right on me, marm ; see You safe through," he said cheerfully. - The conductor shouted " Ail aboard !" and the train moved away. As I looked around at the empty scats I thought: " Something bright has gone out of this depot that doesn't conic in every day—awmasesT JIEART." • • Mits. 3luarxx. took great interest in parish affairs. , Last year she, prom ised to assist in decorating the parish church.: One illuminated text she thought would" look well over - the chancel screen, and she requested her :husband to bring it from town. Aw,inight have been expected, he forgot th - text, and w ired to his . wife for prticulars. To the surprise of all th 4 telegraph clerks, this message came flashing over the wires : "Unto us a child is born, nine feet long. by two feet broad."'