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THE MONTROSE DEMOCRAT.
Z. B. HAWLEY, Proprietor;
urrnms & BLAKESLEE,
At=nrd Coonaelloro at Law. Ogles the owe
occupied by A. It A 0. P. Little. ou Kiln
erect. Illontroae, Pi. (April EL
IL IL LITTLB. QM. P. LITTLIL IL L. 11:14JUILLMII.
f. Iffiffnums. . C. C. Pampa. W. 11. McCaw.
Ne&EIfZIE, FAIIRO'Ir & CO.
Dealers is Dry Goods, Clothing, Ladles and Wefts
Ise Shoes. Also. nests for the great haleness
Tea and Coffee Company. Montrose, Ps., sp. 1,10,
CHARLES N. STODDARD,
aaatn Ut Boots sad Strom Bats and Caro. Leslie.? and
IPloilso lain Street. id door below Searles Sot&
Work nada to order. and repairing done neatly.
II «Mose. gen. 1.1670.
SHAVING AND HAIR DRESSING.
M* to the new Poen:dike building, when" he will
he found ready to attend all who may want anything
In Ids line. Montrose, Pa- Oct. IS, ISM
AUCTIONEER—SeWahI Goods, and Merthantxe—alto
• Weed. at Vendues. All orders lon at my house mill
media prompt attention. . pet. 1, leirk—tl
0. N. HAWLEY,
TIMER In DRY GOODS, GROCERM, CROCKERY
Hardware, Rata, Cape, Soote.Shoes, Ready Made Cloth
hie, Paint s , Oils, etc., New Milford, Pa [Sept 4'49.
DB. S. W. DAYTON,
PgirinelAtir 13178GEON, tenders bill 'trainer to
tb• etisens at Great Bend and vicinity. Wien at bit
totiillence. opt/mite Barnum mousey Wt. Bend village.
Sept. tat, 19014.—tt
& IIIeCOLLUM. Attorner and Conn
... Berm at Lan. 011oe in th dontrow ende Brick Block
IS over the
Beak. .4. M
A. Camottuv. . • J. B. litoCesexn.
A. & D. R. LATIFIBOP,
DEALERS iu Dry . Goods, Groceries,
cnittery and glassware, table and pocket cutlery.
Palate, oDe„ dye 'intro. Hato. boats and .bees, nide
leathey. Perfumery tn. Drink Mack. adjnining the
Unit, leindroee. [August larA.—nt
A. Leeman, - D. B. Laaanor.
A. 0. WARREN.
and AsATTORNEY A LAW. Bounty, Bock Pay. Pension.
aon Maine attauded to. °Mee r •
.oat below Doyd'e Store, Moo trore.Ps. [Au. 1. 'CI.
W. W. WATSON.
ATTOIVIST HT LAW, Wont:aye, Pa. °Woe with 1..
P. Fitch. plant/one, Aug. 4.
M. C. SUTTON,
LucHonest, and Insurance Agent,
sat 69tf Filendsville, Pa.
C. .. GILBERT,
Great. Deed, IPs.
Q. r 3.
Asa. 1. 1869. Address, Brooklyn, Pa
tWIIIONA TILE imam'. Niantreee. Pa. !Map ewer
Chandler', Stem. AP erderr ltllcd In Brat-rate
(militia done on taken notice. and warranted to fit.
w. w. MEM,
CALMEST AND CHAIR MANUFACTURER:reet
Motariee. P. jang. I. ISO.
DSLLInt In Staple and Pansy Dry Goods. Crockery,
nardtrare„ Iron, Stoves, Des gs, Oils, sad •Pslats,
Ilootemrd Sltoes, Sat• d Caro:Fars, Bagel. ILIAes
eroeettss,Provislcras, c:t., Neer Milford,
DII. E. P. RIVIES.
Sao pormattently located tit ?Mandeville for the par
me of practicing medicine and aurgety In all ha
branches. Ile may be toned at the Jack:one noose.
Odler hours from 8 a. oL, toe. p.
11Prieltdmille. Pa., Aug. 1. 196•
system]) & ustowyN,
PIRA AND LIFE ENSUAIANCII Aaserris.
tneleeattended tom pty, on tan term*. Omen
irst door north et • rane Novel," wan aide..
Politic Avenue, Noniron, Pa. [Aug. LIS69.
BILLEIIO II &TIMM. • • 0 .".- 1, 1.•
11.1CSPICCMTLLY announces that he lo naw Tot
pared to eat all kinds of Garment. , in the mos.
invidrmable Style. warranted to fit with elegance
ad ease. Shop aver the Post Otace. Montrose, Pa.
Vila. D. LIUSSE.,
ATTORNWT AT LAW, Montrose, PA. Office app.*.
ells the Terbell Unman, near the Court Balm.
*.g. 1. 11169.-0
DH. W. W. SMITH,
Dr.rverT. Booms over Bnyd 4 Corwin** Bard
were Store. Ocoee hear* trOni •L. ISIL. to Gp. is.
Buiatrose, ens. 1, ISMl.—tt
DEAL= in Drugs, Patent INICII/CILIC., Chemicals
Moors, Paints, 011a,Dye stuffs. Varnishes, Win • II
Glam. Groceries, Glass Ware, Wall and Window Pa,
per, Iltoneerare, Lampe, Kerosene, Machinery Oil..
teacs, Gnus, AIDIIIOI3I/100, Knives, Spectacles
Snob... Fancy Goode, Jewelry, Perla .orv, Ate--
!one of the 1110.4 lISIMGTOIIII. extemaive,• and
saleable pollettions of Goods In Susquehanna .
E stablished in 1848. [Montrose, Pa.
ATTORNEY AT LAW Bl ock toyer the Store of A.
Latkrop, lu the Brick , Montrose, P. [Kora;
DW. W. L. ILICIIAUDSON,
IfitiNCIAR ftIIRGEON. tenders kW professions)
sondem to the citizens of lllontrcoe and rietnity.—
°Mee at his residence, on the comer east of Sap*.
Bros. Foundry. [And. 1, lea.
DEL E. L. GAIIIDNEEt,
rimactas and SURGEON. Montrose. Pa. Gives
especial *Mention todiseases of the fleart and
Vino and 111 Bortical &nesse*. Ofßoa ova W. B.
Deans Boards at Seer
Rotel. (Aug. 1. 18C9.
DlGki. ABB in Drug*, Detainee, Chetuals. Dye-
Matta. Paints. 011 a, Varnish, lAnors. SPlem. ram,
art.ciee, Patent Medicine*, Perfumery and Toilet Ar-
Ode, 112T - Preacriptione carefully compoonded.—
Pantie A•enlie, above tlearks Hotel. Dontreee. Ps
A. Banana. - AM* Nuattra.
Leg. 1,111 M.
DR. E. L. lELLEDBICIL
IPUTISICIAI I s SIIRGEOR, respeetfa , Ily tenders bl+
professional services to the citizen of rriendietlle
and vicinity. ®'O coee lathe ones of Dr. Lead
Dowd, at J. Bogard 's. Aag.1.18121.
The Hatt Barbee. Marto his thank. for the kh
that %as enabled Met to eel the bed re
bav`nt time to tell the whole story, bat some
ese fee yeaewree Wit. the Old Steed So Iced
biaehhat, e/lowed to the shop.
Jail those bt want r
ooflse Teeth or other deatal work
should tell at the take the outwerlbees. who see tow
pared& doe Made of work la their Ileatoo abort 111ediot..
rWitatar afteatko geld to yoking full sod
setts °Meth en gold, aver, or dumb= Ode ; = l ra
Wasted'a oud damporlttou ; the two letter geegable to
aag etb f ?tenet sulwbuitea Dm used for dental plate,.
perm= regulated. and made tarred to
mutant M oo r
lege erflumincwdone by permuted, le.
emßrand tospooMble wde _ amid be , wimmt to au.
AtTliraelc mareented. tall =4 cousdoe eyed+
mew Opiate trust at gar cake, aver Boyd& Co% bard.
W. W. MUM &
ikattroet, dos. 18,11X0,—tf
Refierailintialf i rs
Itoattoes. Nor. si,uw. Est MAUI
(The ibliowinettom the pen of Mrs. IL A.
Deming, is clipped from the Bon Francisco
Times. Dis not too bite to give it to our read
Why all this toll far triumphs of
' an bout ?
Life's a sham santecter, man
flower, Dr. Minana.
By turns we catch the vital breath
sad dam-- firps
The cradle and the tomb, alas so
nigh 1 Prow..
To be !a better Ow than not to be. Ear&
Though all man's life may seem
a tragedy ; EVonor•
But light eases speak when
mighty griefs are dumb, Dania
The bottom b but shallow whimee
they come. Bakigh.
Your fate is but the common fats
of all ;
Unmingled Joys here to no man
Nature to each allots his proper
Fortune makes folly her peculiar
Custom does often rerson over-
And throw a cruel guroldue on a
Live well ; bow long or short,
permit to heaven ;
They who forgive most shall be
Sin may be clasped so close; we
atonot ace its face,
Vile intercourse where virtue has
Then keep each passion down,
however dear ;
Thou pendulum betwixt a smile
Her seasual mares let faithful
With craft and skill to ruin, and
Soar not too high to fall, but
stoop to rise,
We masters grow of all that we
Then I renounce that impious
Riches have u - logs, and grandeur
is a dream.
Think not ambition wise became
The paths of gkay lead but to
What Es ambition I—tis a glori
ous cheat 1—
Only destructive to the brave
What's all the gaudy glitter of a
The way to bliss lies not on beds
of down. .
How long we live, not Tema but
That man live' twice who 1....
the tint Me well.
Make then, while yet we may,
your God year friend,
Whom Christians worship, yet
The trust that's given guarl,and
to yourself be Jost;
For, live we bow we can, yet
die we must
There h a beautilbl, far-off land
Lying in sunlit sins;
But never a ship to that magic strand
Wes wafted by fitful bieeze.
For where her nsdlant shorts unfold,
Night stretches her,ptuple ban,
And fastens it in with tier gates of gold,
Anti guards it with sentry data
Over the fathomless summer skies.
Snowy clouds come and go ;
Thro' every valley that dreaming lies,
Musical Avers flow.
Mountain and forest, and glen, and glade,
By the soft south wind Wined ;
Birds and bkasoms that never fade,
Brighten the fairy land.
Every vanishei forgotten day
Scatters its sunshine them ;
Buds unfolding that passed sway,
Are living more fresh and fair.
Loving deeds that the bards have done—
Sheaves of life's ripened grain ;
Work unfinished that souls begun,
Made perfect, there live again.
Men hare sought it for wady years,
Tet ne•er to their yearning eyes
The glow of the mystic light appears,
Where the land of the beautiful lies.
Yet all have wandered Its br'ght vales thee'
In the quiet of peaceful hours ;
Each heart the cake of its joy once knew,
And the sweet of its deathless flowers.
But hoar by hour from the hidden shore,
Our feet have journeying gone ;
And days that bare faded can know no more
The light of its tender dawn.
Yet we may find in the great somewhere,
Its stretches of pearl-white strand ;
The bloom and beauty that, dwelling there,
Makes Heaven the Childhood Lamb.
—An ill-bred man—a sick baker.
—A grave affair—the last ditch.
—Beasts of the field— . -dranken reapers.
—Floating capital—rich people in bath
—Pleading at the bar—beggkig for a
—Can a erose.examination be a good
natured one P
—The round of domestic life—a hoop
What is home without &piano? Very
—A bona may go it blind, but big dri
—To make a man a drunkard, give
him a wills who will scold him eery tame
kg ccm b 4
MONTROSE, PA., WEDNESDAY' NOV. 16,, 1870.
There is a common question, which we
hope few of our readers may have to
consider from a practical point of view,
as the pleasantest mode of being execut
ed. Is banging, or beheading, or poison
ing, the least disagreeable? How long a
time should elapse between the sentence
and the infliction of the penalty ? When
the time comes, would we rather suffer
before breakfast, or at midday, in public
or in private? The good old plan was to
get as much amusement out of a prison
er as possible; he was soot relieved from
suspense, that the public impatience might
not have time to cool; he made a long
procession through the streets at the
hour when his friends could attend with
the greatest convenience ; he bad full
liberty to make a dying speech for the
amusement of a numerous audience; and
sometimes it was found so hard to part
from the pleasing object that his body
was hung in chains to afford an instruct
ive spectacle after his death. The French
managed to extract some additional satis
faction from the proceeding by using
slow methods for the infliction of death ;
and a case is recorded where a wretched
criminal survived for twenty-two hours
on the wheel. In short our thick-skin
ned ancestors thoroughly enjoyed the
whole proceeding, and regarded it as a
kind of dramatic entertainment, com
bining, as the advertisements express it,
instruction with amusement. We have
grown so tender-hearted or so sqeamish
nowadays that we try to keep the whole
affair as mach as possible in the dark.
If capital punishment is still a necessity,
we seek to withdraw it in every way from
public attention. The present system
would reach its Ultimate perfection if a
plan were adopted which we have some
times beard advocated, and criminals were
entirely withdrawn from public notice
on the instant of their condemnation.
After sentence had been pronounced, and
the doors of the Court had closed upon
them, they would never again be visible
to human eyes, except to the two or three
persons intrusted with the duty of usher
ing them otit of the world. The mystery
which would rest over all the details of
their fate would perhaps be more impress
ive than the most elaborate display, and
even criminals might feel a greater horror
at sinking, as it were, suddenly into utter
darkness than once more appearing to
play a conspicuous part before the eyes of
This pitch of perfection has not yet
been attained; and M. Maxime Du Camp
gives a curious account, in the last num
ber of the Rime des Deux Mendes, of the
mode iu which they do these things in
France. We will endeavor to give a short
summary of his paper by way of illustrat
ing the present stage of the art of execu
tion. We will first consider the treat
ment of the criminal during the last days
of his life. Directly after his condemn-
tion he is stripped naked, every fragment
of his clothing being carefully removed
for fear of his anticipating the action of
the law. lie is then dressed in the rival
prison costume, with the exception of a
bankerchief and a cravat, which might
be convenient for sncidal purposes, Final
ly, he is put into a strait-waistcoat., which
makes him totally incapable of using
deadly instruments, even if he wished it,
or of - helping himself in any way. lie is
constantly in preseire of a guard, and of
a fellow-prisoner ready to act as a spy.
The criminal thus treated is, as we are I
not surprised to hear generally reduced
to a state of profound depression. He
generally refuses, at first, even to give the
necessary powers for the appeal admitted
by French law, and almost invariably
gives way afterwards by the advice of his
counsel and the directors of the prison.
Meanwhile he is allowed to amuse himself
according to his fancy, so far as that ex
pression is applicable to a man in a eon
demand cell confined with a strait-waist
coat, and with no company but a spy and
his jailers. The period of suspense gen
erally breaks down the courage of the
most brutal criminals. They listen to the
exhortations of a venerable priest whose
duty it is to attend upon such cases.
They often try to read, and, according, to
M. DuCamp, the favorite author of these
unhappy wretches is Fenimore Cooper.
The reason suggested by him is that Coop
er leads them into a world of adventure,
far removed from European law, where
killing is considered to be a creditable
occupation. We have some doubts as to
the soundness of this hypothesis; the
literary tast of murderers is not likely, as
a rule, to be highly cultivated; and we
should imagine that Cooper is probably
suggested by the priest or the prison au
thorities as a tolerably amusing novelist,
who has not a single passage which could
do any human being any harm even if he
was in the immediate expectation of death.
However, we are not surprised to hear
that murderers generally fail, to become
absorbed in the adventures of the Leather
Stocking and °his companions. The
guardians, we are told, are kind enough
to try to distract their attention ; but the
poor wretch whose day of execution is
not fixed, is naturally a prey to nervous
irritation, trembles when any one enters
his room, and is often haunted by an im
aginary sounds like the knocking of a
hammer., This, it is said, frequently
amounts to physical suffering. The posi
tion must be unpleasant enough under
all circumstances, but the uncertainty as
to the day of execution seems to add an
unnecessary pang. If the court decides
against the appeal, a memorial is sent to
the Emperor; and, should lie see no rea
son for commuting the penalty, orders are
at once sent to the various ofticials con
cerned to proceed instantly to execu
And here we must say a few words up
on the guillotine itself, whose inventor,
by the way, did not (as has often been
asserted) die by his own creation, but ex
pired peaceably in 1814, at the age of
seventy-three. M. Du Camp dwells
elaborately upon all the details of the
machinery, which require more careful
adaptation and more skillful management
than we had imagined. It is by no means
so simple a thing as it seems at first sight
to cut off a human head with accuracy
and despatch. The efficiency of the
machine, for example, depends entirely
on a modification supplied by a Dr. Louis,
who made the edge of the knife oblique
instead of horizontal; and who, like other
improvers. nearly got the whole credit of
the invention, which for some time was
called a Louisine. We petal not speak of
other refinements; but it is unpleasant to
discover that a good deal depends upon
the skill and coolness of the executioner,
—more, it would appear, than in the case
of the English hangman. He has with
one hand to hold down the criminal, who
sometimes struggles, and generally gets
out of the proper attitude; be then has
to turn the proper screws, and afterwards
by a single pressure of the hand to send
the body down an in.:lined plane to the
basket. Two assistants hold the sufferer
by the head and keep down his legs; and,
as M. Du Camp remarks, unless they per
form their duty a simultaneits irieprocha
tile the gravest inconveniences might re
sult. It appears, however, that this has
never been the case of late years, owing.
as we presume to the qualifications of the
Ile is not only- sa man of colossal ,
strength, and clad in black garments of
elaborate neatness • but he is an inventor, I
and has conferred many advantages on I
the condemned by ameliorations in his
instrument. lie is so sensitive that he is
generally ill for days after an execution ;
and M. Du Camp complains that consider
ing iris qulifications, he is miserably paid.
He receives only four thousand francs a
year, besides an allowance of nine thous
and francs for supplying the necessary
materials. He has the charge, it seems,
of seven departments; but, considering
that there have only been fifty-seven ex
ecutions is Paris in the last forty years,
we do not see that the salary is so bad.
It is, however, rather difficult to discover
any satisfactory mode of determining the
value of such services. Adam Smith has
passage on this subject which is not al
together without some grim fun in it:
"The most detestable of all employments,
that of public executioner, is, in propor
tion to the quantity of work done, better
paid than any common trade whatever."
We must now return to the criminal.
The authorities enter his room in the
early morning, takinglinfinite precautions
not to disturb his sleep by turning the
key abruptly. They then rouse him to
tell him that the hour is come. Fronethe
time of waking him to the moment ' of
his execution takes half an hour. This
includes his interview with the priest, a
rather prolonged ceremony of taking off j
and putting on his strait-waistcoat,eut
ting his hair and conducting him through
various passages; and M. 1)u Camp sug
gests that by certain easy simplifications
it, might be reduced to half the time ; so
that a man might be asleep as the hour I
struck WO. i.. "rilh"..' his head at the
quarter. That part of 7 ..--ectileg,
however, which takes place within view of
the public is expeditions enough. The
trying moment is that at which the
guillotine, which is painted a &ill red
color, first becomes visible, and it is then
that the criminal tries, often in vain, to
brace himself with a view to dying game
and leaving a creditable name among his
companions. Characteristically, too, it
is in these moments that they try to re
call the mot, carefully prepared before
hand, with which they are to take leave
of the world. "Adieu, enfants de la
Prance," wag, the exclamation of one
Avinain, "n'avouez jamais ; c'est ee qui
m'a perdu r Another man at this mo
ment asked the name of an assistant who
had been kind to him, in order that he
might preserve it in his memory. But
the scaffold is close to the prison ; and
according to an accurate observation in
one instance, only fourteen seconds elaps.
ed between the time at which the prison
er put his foot on the scaffold and that at
which his head feltinto the basket. The
scene mar be hideous enough, but it is
The logical neatness of the French or
ganization seems rather to fail in this
instance. The execution is public, but
the greatest care is taken that as few peo
ple as possible shall see it The time is
not known, except to the few enthusiasts
who watch till they see the scaffold erect
ed on the night before the event. Great
care is taken to treat the criminal kindly,
especially in the rather doubtful matter of I
getting the business over as soon as he is
out of bed ; yet he has all the misery of I
suspense, and, moreover, of suspense in a
straight-waistcoat. So few criminals
manage to kill themselves under our sys
tem, and it is so very little loss to the
world when they do, that one might have
thought that this regulation might be
relaxed, for it certainly seems to be an
unnecessary aggravation of torture. If
the execution was in private, as is now the
case in England, as well as in the greater
part of America and Germany, the prison- I
er might have the melancholy satisfaction
of knowing beforehand how long lie was
to live. The interests, however, of the
prisoner are of comparatively little im
portance. Nobody can look forward to
the guillotine without considerable re-
luctanee, and whether the days are a little
more or a little less unpleasant is not of
very material consequence. But it is a
more curious question whether this grow
ing dsigust at the publicity of executions
does not forshadow the entire abolition of
capital punishment. Traupmann has I
probably done a good deal to preserve the
vitality of the guillotine, but the number
of persons guillotined steadily declines ;
in the five years ending in 1860 there
were twice as many as in the five years
ending in 186.5, and it is almost necessary
to murder a whole family in cold blood
to get rid of "extenuating circumstance."
We cannot bear Whir& a deed perform
ed in public which a few generations ago
was considered to be a highly moral and
entertaining spectacle. May we not be
come so sensitive in a generation or two
more as not to bear its being done in
private ? The French are so tender to
the criminal that they only give him half
an hour of certain anticipation of death,
and M. Da Camp tries to show that the
time might be reduced to halt The next
step would be to cut off his head before
he is awake • and when that consumma
tion is rea ched, perhaps it may be thought
improper to put an end to him at all. It
is not much over a hundked years Since
Damiens was slowly tortured to death by
the most revolting process at the Greve,
and a highly polished English gentleman
went over to Paris expressly to see it done '
We now take pains to reduce every extra
minute of expectation for a far more ex
ecrable villain, and try to cheat anybody
brutal enough to desire to see his death
of the anticipated treat. Shall we be
come too tender-hearted to kill anybody,
or will punishment be inflicted in so in
offensive a manner that we shall gradual
ly become reconciled to it ?—a question
too intricate to be discussed at the present
Mose Skinner's Slicer Weddldg
It being just twenty-five years since my
first wife died, I thought I couldn't better
celebrate the event than by having a
grand silver wedding. Alas! twenty-five
brief summers, and it seems but day be
fore yesterday, since I returned from her
funeral an altered man, and told the un
dertaker to call round for his pay in the
The great trouble in silver weddings is
that you are apt to get two or three pres
ents alike, but I flatter myself that I fixed
'em here. In the first place. Mrs, Skinner
and I looked over our stock of silverware
to see what we were out, of, and found
that we could take about twenty-five
square presents without getting bilious;
and then we invited a few children, in
reference to nut-crackers, butter-knives,
and other small fry. I issued my invita
tions two weeks beforehand, to give every
body a chance to buy a present, and in
addition hinted in a delicate manner what
I should like each one to bring.
So the the invitations read very much
MRS. CILtRITY PIIISATROTTOM AND TICS-
You are both aide l
To Mr. and Mrs. Mose Skinner's Silver
• * *Please bring silver castor, with extra
MES. JOANN BEEZUM AND in - sas.Nn,
You are both naked
To Mr. and Mrs. Mose Skinner's Silver
* * *We cherish fund hopes in your direc-
t ion in reference to a silver teapot.
Ou the back of each invitation was a
neat gilt scroll enclosing the words.
"Please avoid dollar 'stores."
To say the affair was a srccess would
be defrauding the:dictionary. I have
looked that venerabk•pamphlet through,
but fail to find a word that meets the
case. Nothing short of seven syllables
and a French roof will do, so I give it up.
On the arrrval of the guests, I took
charge of the presents with as much emo
tion as the value of the present called for.
A silver penknife. I vvlth alusk
y tremor in my voice. while an elegant
silver teapot caused me to entirely break
down with emotion ; but I recovered, and
went through the trying ordeal with un
flinching bravery. Those that didn't
bring presents were told that we were not
at home, which of course made the gath
ering more select. We received some very
fine presents, including a share in a sil
ver mine, a lock of gray hair streaked
with silver, some silver tones front a
maiden's voice, a silver beam from the
moon, and some castor oil made from a
Then my wife and I stood up and re
ceived the silver-ti:ingued congratulations
of our guests on our happy . married life.
But I didn't need 'em. :No, I should my
not. When I see a man utterly crushed
in spirit and baldheaded at the premature
age of fifty, with a black eye constantly
on hand, and a wife who is ready to fur
nish him with more black eyes at the
lowest market price, I pause ere I con
gratulate him on matrimonial bliss. Not
that I would insinute that Mrs. Skinner
is not as gentle as a dove in the olive
branch business. Not at all. I simply
say that in a case like this, I should prob
ably pause to the extent of two semicol
ons and a comma, ere I congratulated
Anetlom In South Germany
An auction is an odd sight, but the
dawdling progress of the business, and the
time that is lost., would drive any other
people wild. There arc no catalogues,
and the lots are brought forward almost
at hazard. If the sale takes place on ac
count of a death, every-thing is sold, not
only the wearing apparel, but all the old
rubbish, the contents of the rag bag—ev
erything. I have seen the ladies try the
size of a pair of old shoes, and then have
an animated bidding for them. I have
, seen a disconsolate widow in comfortable
circumstances bring forward the dear de-
I parted's old gloves and cravats, with the
creases of long wear in them—aye, and
expatiate on their worth, and run them
up when the bidding was slack—and re
spectable persons would buy them.
Although the things are sold without
any arrangement, there is a kind of order
observed. The kitchen utensils go firtt,
then the linen and clothes, and then the
furniture—and it is all done in one room.
They pick out the largest in the suite to
hold the company, so one must go an
hour beforehand to get a seat near the ta
ble, which is placed before the door of an
inner room, and forms a barricade for the
auctioneer and two clerks. Within are
the family, and all the things which are
to be sold. These are brought forward as
they come to hand, and then carefully
inspected by the assembly, who go on bid
ding krentzers till they arrive at sixty,
which makes a gulden. After that, you
bid groschens or three krentzers, and
then one often gets into a terrible puzzle
as to what sum one is really offering. The
auctioneer, it is true, helps his customers
by adding the number of guldens occas
ionally, but fancy him bidding fifty-three
threepences! At about five or six guldens,
one begins to bid by stretch—a stretch
being the quarter of a gulden. When
you have bought an article it is handed
over to you, and be it china or a sauce
pan, you must dispose of it as you cah,
on your lap or under your chair; no one
but yourself is responsible for it now, and
as it is not ticketed, your only security is
to keep it by your side. Strangers axe on
this account expected to paymoney down
and then they may walk off with their
purchases; but all this takes up a great
deal of time,
and causes much 'confusion
and noise. livery now and then the old
Mark rings a bell, and refuses to go on
unless the assemblage is silent._.
It is de rigueur for the ladies of the
family to be present at the sale. They
must bring forward the things themselves
point out their merits, and run them up.
No good house-keeper must neglect any
of these duties. I cannot say what their
servants are doing—they are not seen ;
the ladies are the ac.ice agents. Accord-
ing to this system it takes two or three
days to sell what an actioneer with us e
would knocked off in as many hours.
We cannot understand this selling in'
such a pdblic manner the very clothes of
the dead—the slippers, the mornin,g gown
which had almost taken the father's
form, garments which from long wear
and many associations, seem a part of the
lost one ; we could not expose the cap,
which may have been worn in the lust
Jays of health, or was made by lingers
which will never again clasp ours. We
are not a sentimental nation: we do not
deal in long-winded anaylvsis of our feel
utg yet such scenes as I have been de
scribing would seem a desecration to us.
The most constant attendants at these
auctions are young ladies about to be
married.' It is the wife who furnishes the
house and provides the linen; so as soon
as a girl is engaged, she and her mother
be g in to buy furniture, and makes sheets
and table-clothes. It is extraordinary
what immense stocks of linen and under
clothing arc considered necessary ; dozens
upon dozens of every article. It is really
a large sum lying dead, a capital which
brings no interest; but it is the pride of a
real German woman's heart to look at her
cumbrous closets piled up with flue linen,
which seldom sees the light except to be
bleached, and to be able to say "I only
have a wash once in six montfis:—Socie
ty in the Schwarzwald.
"Fetch On Tour Rater,
Adam &pier keeps a tavern in Allegh
nv. pile rainy gloomy evening recently
when Adam mils in rather a Fluomy hum
or, a stranger presented himself about
bed time, and asked to stay all night.
"Certainly" said Adam, eyeing the rath
er seedy loAing stranger. -If yon take
breakfast, it will cost you one dollar."
"But I have no moitev," said the man
"I am dead broke, but if you will trust
"AU!" said Mr. &pier. I don,t like that
kind of customer. I could till mine
house every night mit dat kind, but dat
won't help run die house."
"Well," said the stranger, after a pause
"have you got any rats here ?"
"Yes." replied Adam, "you'd better be
neve we nave. IN 11C ,MT place 15 tansy
"Wall," rejoined the man, "I'll tell you
what I'll do. If von let me have lodging
and breakfast, kill all the rats to-mor
"Done," said Bepler, who bad been
long desperately annoyed by the number
of old Norways that iufestel his premises.
So the stranger, a gaunt, sallow, mel
oncholy looking man, was shown to bed,
and no doubt had a good sleep. After
breakfast next morning, Mr. Bepler tocik
occasion in a very gentle manner to re
mind his guest of the contract of the pre
" What! kill your rats! certainly," said
the meloncholy stranger. " Where are
they the thickest r
" Dey are patty dick in de barnyard,"
"Well, let's go there," said the stringer
"But stop: Lave you gut a piece of Iwo'
A piece about fifteen feet long was
brought to the stranger, who examined it
carefully from one end to the other. Ex
pressing himself entirely satisfied at
length with its length and strength,
proceedad to the barn, accompanied by
Mr. I3epler, and quite a number of idlers
who were anxious to see in what manner
the great rat killer was going to work.
Arriving there, the stranger looked around
a little, and then placing his back firmly
against the barn door, raised his weapon.
"Now,"*said he to Adain, "I am ready.
"Fetch on your rats."
How the scene terminated we are not
precisely informed. It is said that, al
though no rats answered the appeal of the
stranger, Mr. liepler began to smell bats
pretty strongly at this juncture, and be
came very ang4 , : y. One thing is certain,
and that is, that the new• boarder was not
at Adam's table for dinner, nor for any
subsequent meal, He had suddenly re
solved to depart probably to pursue his
avocation of rat killer in otherquarters.
The use of the Pen.
The Latin rhetorician, Quintilian de
eares that the pen is the best instructor
in the art speaking. Not less true is it
that the rise of the pen conduces most ef
fectually to the general culture of the
mind. There is more real exercise of
thought in one hour's composing than in
a day,s reading. Besides, the peu com
pels you to understand what you study,
for you cannot express what is not intel
ligible to yourself. The pen also exacts
arrangement and introduces order. In
deed, what we read is hardly our own un
til we have given it utterance in our own
language. To utter in writing what we
have read is the only sure way of appro
A FABLF--A Young man once picked
up a sovereign lying in the road. Ever
afterwards, as he walked along, he kept
his eyes, steadily fixed upon the ground,
in the hope of finding another. And in
the course of a long life, ho did pick up,
at different times, a good amount of gold
and silver. But all these days as he was
looking for them, ho saw not. that the
heaven was bright above him and nature,
was beautiful around. lie never once al=
lowed his eyes to look up from the mud
and filth in which he sought the treasure,
and when he died a,rich old man; he only
k to n v ew ick th u is p fa m ir o e n ar ey th of
—Spontaneous colihnsiou-7bllzing up
at au malt.
surano‘s a Rat
A, New Orleans. householder , diiturbed
by an aged dtirkey.whe each day seated
himself on her porch and went to sleep in
the. sun, with upturned head, open
month and prodigious snore,!concluded
she would try an experiment. For this:
purpose she procured o small piece of ice
and dropped it into the huge orifice that .
served as ~.Sambo' month. - It disappeared
like a shot, and, with a: cough and- a
snort r tiatabo started to his feet. nigh
lie 'cried; of the ice tent ' violent thrills
through hus stomach. "What dial" and"
his lingers clutched nervously thetifficted
parta Jest then some one -erred out in
the house that a big rat had run down
`Uncle Sam's throat.' This added terror
to his pain he roiled on the- banquette
and cried lustily - for help. "Fore God;
misses, he's gnawing mien me. I feels
him. Oh. golly, he's kill's me," and' the
whites of the darkey's eyes protruded like
saucers, and the convulsed and anguished
face showed that real pain was strongly
enhanced by his imaginary terror. "Oh,
golly, how he do jump and kick about,"
and Sam ho again gave himself up to a
paroxysm of lamentation. "Drink warm
water, Uncle Sam, and drown him," the
lady suggested. Without a moment's hes
itation Sam started for the water ping.
Ile turned on the crank and the warter
started. Sam glued his lips to the nozzle
until his sides were puffed out like an in
flated balloon. "How do you feel now,
Uncle Sam ?" the lady inquired. as Sam
staggered back to his seat. "I guess he's
drowned, misses; but here.s-what's troub
ling dis chile, how's dat rat gwine to get
out a dare r
Female Highway nobberf.
One Major Milligan, who has just writ
ten a book entitled " Wild Life among
the Koords," gives a painfully minute ar
gument intended to demonstrate that the
garden of Eden corresponded with the
high plateau of America!
Of the Koords his account is very un
favorable. The kind of highway robbery
practiced by the women of the country
appears to have particularly irritated him.
Ile says, " the culprits—the brigands in
this case, are young women, who set out
on plundering pursuits, in. order to turn
a dishonest palmy. A troop of fair bri
gands take up a station at the river, there
particularly, tp await for the auival of
the doomed traveler. As soon as the vi
dettes announced his approach, the fair
troops start off to meet him, welcoming
him with dances and with fiery glances it
is impossible fer him to withstand. He is
compelled to stop, as a matter of course,
and the fair:niaids then request him to
alight from his horse.
No sooner has the bewildered victim,
unconscious of his fate, put his foot on
the ground than he finds himself at close
ti oat Lela tt 111 , 11 LLC NLViO tnnAitt• na-narctil w
nt-v I yf,, g tripped of all that he has on
his hack, and is left in that primitive
state in which Adam was at ono time."
The French Hissing Custom.
The French, with all their faults, are
generally supposed to be a people of
taste, hut there is one practice prevalent
among them whiob refutes their claim to
be so regarded.
The men have an absurd custom of
kissing each other on various occasions.
A political favorite is forced to submit his
face to the not over delicate osculations
of his demonstrative constituents ; and a
correspondent of the London Times late
ly saw a dirty fellow in a blouse jump in
to the carriage of the grave and reverend
Jules Simon, t.nd apply his lips to the..
statesman's face, an ordeal which he bore
with a resignation becoming that states
man's thotlghtful turn of mind.
Democratieideas are infections, butye
trust that there is no danger that tr is
will ever gain - a foothold hem. We veri-,
ly believe that it would do more than any
thing else to lessen the aspirations of our
people for political honors.
An Item 'which Every inn Should.
We have probably all met with in
stances in which a word heedlessly spok
en against the reputation of a female has
been magnified by malicious minds until
the cloud, has become dark enough to ov
ershadow her whole existence To those
who are accustomed not necessarily from
bad motives, but from thoughtlesemse&—
to speak lightly of females we recommend
these hints as worthy of consideration :
"sever use a lady's name in an improper
place, at an improper time or in mixed
company. Never make assertions about
her that you think are untrue, or allusions
that you feel she herself would blush to
hear. When you meet with men who do
not scruple to make use of a woman's
name in a reckless and unprincipled
manner, shun them, for they are the
worst members of the community—men
lost to every sense of honor, every feeling
of linmanty. Many good and worthy
woman's character has been forever ruin
ed and her heart broken by a lie, manu
factured by some villian, and repeated
where it should not have been, and in the
presence of those whose littlejudgment
could not deter them from circulating the
foul and bragging report. A slander is
soon propagated, and the smallest thing
derogatory to a woman's character will fly
on the wings of the wind, and magnify
as it circulates until its monstrous weight
crushes the poor unconscious victim. Re
spect the name of a women, for your
mother and sister are woman; and as you
would have their fair name untarnished,
and their lives nnembittered by the
slanderer's bitter tongue, heed the ill that
your words may bring upon. the mother,
the sister or the wife of some fellow-crea
Cruelty to Animals.
George Dickerson was arrested in Ger
mantown at the instance of. the society
for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals,
for shooting two pasta and leaving them
half, Aead. Re was held to answer by Al
—Zach. Chandler is proposed for Sec
retary. of the Navy. No ono could , excel
him in " Splicing the•main brace•"-