HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and rem;
isilEn
k couxTY-'Tin: . nnrvi; wa .v pa n r r.
Two Dollars jbr AmTOM."
VOL. i.
RIDGWAY, PA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1871.
NO. 29.
I
' A WOMAN'S CONCLUSION!.
nr rn(EBB cxnv.
t.
I paid, if I mlpht go back apain
To tho very hour and place of my liirth ;
Mipht have my life whatever I chose,
And, live it in any part of tlie earth ;
I'ut perfect sunshine into my sky,
Bnnlsh the shadow of sorrow and donM ;
Have all my happiness multiplied,
And all my Buffering stricken out ;
If I could have known, in the years now gone,
The best that a woman comes to know ;
Could have had whatever will make licr Most,
Or whatever she thinks will make her so ;
Have found the highest and purest bliss
That the bridal wreath and ring enclose ;
And pained the one out of all the world
That ray heart as well as my reason chose ;
And if this had been, and I stood to-night
By my children, lying asleep la their beds,
And conld count In my prayers, for a rosarv,
The shining row of their golden heads;'
Yes ! I said, If a miracle such as this
Conld be wrought for me, nt my bidding,
I would choose to have my past as it Is,
And to let my future come as it will !
I would not make the path I have trod
More pleasant or even, more straight or
wide;
Nor change my course the breadth of a hair,
This way or that way, to cither side.
My past is mine, and I take it all ;
Its weakness lis folly, if you please ;
Nav, even ray sins, if you come to that,
May have been my helps, not hindrances !
If I saved my body froth the flames
Because that onee I had burned my hand ;
Or kept myself from a greater sin
By doing a less you will understand ;
It was better I suffered a little pain,
Better I sinned for a little time,
If the smarting warned me back from death,
un mo ouug ui Bin wiinucia ironi crime.
Who knows Its strength by trial, will know
What strength must be set against a sin :
And how tcmptntion is overcome
He has learned, who has felt its power
within !
And who, knows how a life at the last ruav
show t
Why, look at the moon from where .we
stand I
Opaque, uneven, you say ; yet it shine?,
A luminous sphere, complete and grand '.
So let my past stand, just as it stands.
And let me now, as 1 may, grow old ;
I am what I am, and my life for me
Is the best or it had not been, I hold.
PEAUI.S OF THE OCEAN
Pearls of the ocean, tho dark or the fair,
Choose as you wish, they are each of them there;
With tresses of jet, or with tresses of gold,
With shyest of eyes, or with saucy aud bold.
Pearls of tho ocean, fresh from the sea,
Brilliant with merriment, sparkling with glee ;
All! who is tho jeweller fated to tit,
Such pearls in n mounting gold ring to wit.
Pearl of tho ocean, soft, fair, and blight,
Pearl of the ocean, dark as the night :
You each have admirers, either is prized,
The fair fondly loved, the dark Idolized.
London Society.
SHAKES.
Everybody in and around Norway
Flat was acquainted with Shakes. Shakes
was every one's favorite, and every one's
laughing-stock. What his real name
was, no one on the Flat, excepting the
Postmaster, knew or seemed at all
anxious to ascertain. In outward ap
pearance, he was a specimen of debased
humanity. Debauchery was indelibly
stamped upon every feature; It was
deemed a rare sight to see him with a
clean face. Btreaks of gray forced them
selves through the accumulations that
clung to his long matted locks and un
trimmed beard. A coarse blue woolen
overshirt, with tattered sleeves, covered
his back, from whence many doubted
whether it had been removed since the
day he first put it on, in Griffin's store,
twelve months ago. His duck pants
had completely lost their original white
ness, and were tucked into a well-worn,
much-patched pair of gum-boots. The
veritable felt hat, worn by him in 52,
still maintained its usual position on
the side of his head. The only change
it had apparently undergone since then,
was that a piece of an old rubber coat
now constituted thecrown.
Shakes's history, outside of the pre
cincts of Norway Flat, was wrapped in
complete mystery. Even the time of
his arrival in the camp was unknown.
Brown.the proprietor of the ' Occidental"
Norway Flat's principal hotel, drink
ing and dancing-saloon and also one of
the pioneers of the place, asserted,
"Shakes bummed around here when I
fust 'rived, in '5'2." It was generally be
lieved that he hailed from the temper
ance State of Maine. Shakes, however,
was no " temperance man " himself ; to
the contrary, be had earned the unenvi
able reput ition of being an inveterate
" whiskey bummer." No one had ever
known him to pass a single night ou the
Flat " out of his cup9." It is true that
these constant imbibings had so en
feebled his system as to cause him to
readily succumb to its influence.
a A lonely log-cabin stood on the hill
side. Shakes owned it, and professed to
be its occupant; but seldom, if ever,
crossed its threshold. The bar-room of
some one or other of the numerous
drinking-hells was his home; the floor,
a bench or a faro-table was his bed.
Although a slave to his appetite for
intoxicating liquor, none its venders on
Norway Flat were much the richer for
having Shakes as their customer. It
was seldom that a coin passed from his
hands to the barkeeper's drawer; but
drink he must have, and somehow or
other he always managed to obUin it.
The manner in which it was obtained
was but a seoondary consideration to
him. Nothing was too humiliating or
too degrading for him to do for it. When
begging failed, strategy was immediate
ly resorted to, and in this ha was invari
ably successful. He would enter the
saloon, go up to the bar with thumb
aud forefinger inserted in his packet,
aud address the bar-keeper thus :
" I say, bar-keeper, hurry up ; give me
a ' brandy straight.
The bar-keeper would first cast a
glanoe at the position of the hand, and
then tender the bottle to Skakes, who
would unconcernedly drink, "jleres
luck," and retire from Ihe counter with
out paying.
" Ho, Shakes :"
Eh ?"
" Come and see mo."
" No, thankee ; don't feel like it now ;
jest had nn."
And the bar-keeper learned that he
wus duped once more, but dared not at
tempt to punish his deceiver. The in
dignation of tho entire camp would
most assuredly fall upon the individual
who dared to abuse Shakes. Ho was
Norway Flat's " privileged character."
" Likes his whiskey, I know ; but he's ft
harmless, good-natured old devil for all
that," was the sentiment universally ex
pressed by the members of that little
mining community.
Inebriate as he was. Shakes was not
indolent. He whs always, in sunshine or
rain, engnged in chopping cord-wood,
or in riving shakes long shingles ; from
which latter occupation he received his
nickname. The sun rose on Shakes en
tering the woods ; it set upon him ma
king a " bee-line" for the " Pony Saloon."
Fire-wood was worth $0 a cord, and
shakes $10 a thousand, in those days, on
Norway Flat. Shakes always chopped
from two to three cords per day. Three
dollar-) a cord he paid " Billy the boat
man " for hauling it, which, of course,
considerably diminished his earnings;
still, there was a good margin left How
it came to pass that he should always be
poor, could never be satisfactorily ex
plained. His condition of being, what
he termed " flat broke," was patent to
all, and was considered another of the
mysteries of his peculiar life that no one
cared to solve, and accepted unquestion
ed. Norway Flat, since the time of its dis
covery in ol, had continued to be a
prosperous mining camp The fabulous
yield of many of its claims had been re
ported in the columns of the leadiug
newspapers oi the civilized world. Num
erous opportunities had been ottered
Shakes to become tne possessor of ground
of a promising character, subsequently
proving rich. Mining, however, pos
sessed no attractions for him. There ex
isted no aflinity between his nature and
the excitement of the average gold
miner's life. He never owned a foot of
mining ground, " and didn't intend to,"
he was acc stoiued to say ; " I go fur the
sure thing." Even when the Wako-np
Jake Company struck a two-ounces-to-tke-pan
prospect, Shakes declined stak
ing oif the adjoining ground, then va
cant, and upon which he was at the
time chopping wood. The same piece
of ground afterward proved the richest
spot on the whole Flat, nearly 1,200
ounces being obtained from it as the
proceeds of one day's washing. This lack
of enterprise this disinclination to ven
ture was supposed to be the morbid
offspring of his dissipated career. The
only things for which he appeared to have
any care were his axe, cross-cut saw,
and frower. These constituted his entire
stock in trade, and for them he cherished
something bordering upon affection.
Shakes was viewed as ono of Norway
Flat's fixtures. It had been settled long
ago in the minds of its inhabitants that
his bones would decay in the little ceme
tery on the knoll overlooking the Flat.
The idea of his removing was never for
a moment entertained by any one in that
secluded community. Shakes and Nor
way Flat had grown up with one anoth
er. Norway Fiat was Shakes's home. If
he possessed a home elsewhere, he had
never been heard to speak of it.
The winter of '39 had set in. It was
about the middle of November. The
ground was covered with several inches
of snow. The tinkling of sleigh-bells
was heard in the distance, aud the little
town on the Flat was instantly thrown
into a commotion. It was all occasioned
by the arrival of '-Barnard's Monthly
Express." The arrival of the express
was an important event in the otherwise
monotonous routine of every-day life at
Norway Flat ; for be it remembered that
the era of wagon roads and railways had
not then been inaugrated, and commun
ication between that mountain retreat
and civilization was at best infrequent
aud uncertain. Among the anxious faces
awaiting the opening of the little wicket
of the Post-office and the distribution of
letters appeared that of Shakes. Shortly
afterward he wag observed intently
perusing a letter.
"Dam'd 'f I don't make tracks fur
hum," he suddenly exclaimed, and as
suddenly bade farewell to Norway Flat
and its surroundings.
That evening Shakes was missed from
his usual haunts, and it soon became
generally known that he had left the
Flat. This was an unprecedented epi
sode in Norway Flat's history. Nothing
had ever occurred before to disturb its
uniform equanimity, excepting the shoot
ing of lied Alick by Russian Bill in a
moment of frenzied excitement, produced
in the heat of a discussion as to the
merits of tho parties then engaged in the
Crimean War. His departure was the
universal topic of conversation around
every fireside and in every bar-room in
the camp. The speculations as to the
cause were as varied as they were im
probable. The thermometer at Brown's that eve
ning, indicated 13' below zero; but no
fears were harbored in the mind of any
one as to the safety of the one who had
so unceremoniously left the camp " home
ward bound." -
Weeks passed on, and nothing had
been seen or heard of Shakes since his
departure. Norway Flat had almost
forgotten him. Brown, the landlord of
the " Occidental," was standing in his
doorway, gazing abstractedly at the dis
tant wiudings of the " down country"
trail. It was only the previous day that
a prospecting party had passed along it
from the Flat, bound for the deserted
mining camp of Diggers' Delight, situ
ated about ten miles distant. His
thoughts naturally recurred to their de
parture and : prospects. Suddenly, his
quick eye detected in the distance a
group of men slowly trudging toward
the Flat, and was somewhat astonished
to recognize in them the prospectors of
Diggers' Delight returning, bearing with
them a heavy burden. The news soon
spread that Shakes had been found dead
at Diggers? Delight. It was'evident.that
night had overtaken him thero, and that
he had determined to spend it in one of
tho deserted shanties. The fire-place had
been filled by him with wood, ready for
the match ; but it remained unkindled.
W hy, no one could answer. The verdict
of all who heard tho story was that he
had fallen a victim to the severity of the
weather on the evening of the day he
left the Flat, or, us they expressed it,
"friz dead."
In an inside pocket of a vest worn
underneath his ragged overshirt', a packet
of letters was found, all of which were
written in the 'same handwriting, and
addressed to " James Wilkinson, Esq.,
Norway Flat." Sundry photographs
were also discovered in the same pocket
one cf an aged lady, another of a wo
man in the prime of life, and the rest of
three beautiful girls of from ten to fifteen
years of age. AH the letters bore the
same post-mark, " , Me." Each en
velope was indorsed in pencil mark,
" Reed, (date,) J. W." One of them was
indorsed, "Iiecd. Novr. 17, 1859, J. W."
That was the duy that Shakes left Nor
way Flat. Its contents explained tho
mystery of his life and poverty, and ran
thus:
, Maine, Aug. SO, 1839.
My dear James : Your last remittance of
?250 has been duly received, and tho mortgage
on the farm is now paid. Have you
not impoverished yourself to keep us in com
parative luxury? We have wanted nothing.
Mother Is ailing mid rapidly declin
ing. Doctor says she cannot possibly live
through the coming winter. She longs to see
you, James, before she dies. Emma,
Annie, and Gerty arc all well. O,
James, do come home at once; if not, I shall
sell the place next spring, aud come to Norway
Flat myself.
Your otfectionate wife,
Ei.lex Wilkinson.
The bright side of Shakos's character,
which he had so carefully concealed from
the sight of his folio w-men, was here re
vealed. And he had now gone to anoth
er home to receive his reward. The Over
land Monthly, September.
The (rcnt Indian Famine.
Ths Gazette of India has just published
a painful but deeply interesting report
of the tir l al or threefold famine of grass,
gram, and ram, which fell in 18G8-69,
with frightful severity on 100,000 square
miles of Rajpootana, surpassing in in
tensity any which has occurred since
1812, and almost equalling that of 1701,
of which the record is preserved that
three-quarters of the cattle died and that
man ate man. The visitation having
been chiefly in native States, accurate
statistics are not forthcoming ; it is im
possible, therefore, to come to any accu
rate conclusions as to the mortality
which the famine caused, directly or in
directly. The scanty crops which in
fpito of drought struggled up, were
swept off the earth by a plague of lo
custs; cholera fastened ou the starved
people, and a terrible fever followed,
striking down tho entire population.
The deutbs from this latter cause alone
are put down at 20 per cent, of the in
habitants, while in some cf the Marwa
ree districts they rose as high as one
third. Taking the most moderate of the
statistics furnished, the local authorities
calculate fiat in Marwar and Aiuiere
and the other districts, no less than one
and a quarter million of human beings
died ot disease and starvation. What
could be done to alleviate suffering was
done; but it was very little, for the
stricken districts were cut off from the
Eossibility of adequate aid. How this
appened is explained in the report,
which says that the Rajpootana iuuiine
bore a strong resemblance to the Orissa
famine in one particular ; that for some
months, though for a different cause,
Rajpootana, like Orissa, was shut off
from tho receipt of supplies et the most
critical period of the year. In Orissa
this arose from the impossibility of ships
approaching the coast to unload during
the monsoon months. In Rajpootana
tho same result was produced by the ut
ter failure of forage, the price of which
was in many cases dearer than grain, so
that no carts could travel, nor could the
pack-bullocks of the Bunjaras, of which
there are hundreds of thousands in Raj
pootana and Central India, traverse the
country. The result was the same. The
sea in one case, aud the want of grass in
tho other, isolated the famine tract from
tho rest of India. It must be udmitted
that great efforts were made to relieve
the sufferers. The chiefs of Oodeybore
aud Jeybore set a noble example, which
was followed by almost every other chief
whose States were stricken, and by many
who were beyond the famine. Famine
relief works were started and maintained
at comparatively enormous expense du
ring the whole ot the visitation ; the
United Presbyterian Mission, which has
made Rajpootanp, its held for missionary
enterprise, labored both in purse and
person ; the Marwarees in Bombay, act
ins with the Bombay Government and
the Chamber of Commerce, sent liberal
contribution ; and the government of
India expended in relief works for the
420,000 inhabitants of its own province
of A j mere, fifteen and a quarter lakhs of
rupees, or ntarly three years' gross reve
nue of the country. It is perhaps, a
pity that, in justice to itself, the Govern
ment did not publish the report earlier,
as till now, while many have seen
the suffering, but few knew what
had been done to alleviate it. The moral
to be drawn from the history of this and
other famines is that though scarcity
may prevail, uctual famine is preventa
ble by the two great measures to which
Lord Mayo and his government have so
steadily addressed themselves, namely,
railroads and works of irrigation rail
ways to convey grain to the great cen
tres of population, reservoirs to store the
rain bupply and canals to direct it. The
famines or periods of unusual scarcity
which atllict Rajpootana, have hitherto
recurred at intervals of some ten or
twelve years. Long therefore before an
other visitation may be looked for, the
railroad from Agra to Ajmere, which is
the heart of the country, will have been
completed, and reservoirs, of which
there are even now some magnificent
examples, will have been constructed
wherever the greatest need for them has
been shown.
A Story of Clmrles Picken.
BY J. T. FIELDS.
" I chanced to be travelling some years
ago," he said, " in a railroad carriage
between Liverpool and London. Beside
myself there were two ladies and a gen
tleman ocqupying the carriage. We
happened to be all Btrangers to each
other, but I noticed at once that a clergy
man was of the party. I was occupied
with a. ponderous article in the 2'imen,
when the sound of my own name drew
my attention to the fact that a conver
sation was going forward among the
three other persons in the carriage with
reference to myself and my books. One
of the ladies was perusing ' Bleak House'
then lately published, and the clergy
man had commenced a conversation
with the ladies by asking what book
they were reading. On being told the
author's name and the title of the book,
he expressed himself greatly grieved
that any lady in England should be
willing to take up tho writings of so vile
a character as Charles Dickens. Both
the ladies showed great surprise at the
low estimate the clergyman tmt UDon an
author whom they had been accustomed
to read, to say the least, with a certain
degree of pleasure. Thoy were evidently
much shocked at what the man said of
the immoral tendency of these books,
which they seemed never before to have
suspected ; but when he attacked the
author's private character and told nion
strous stories of his immoralities in every
direction, tho volume was shut up and
consigned to the dark pockets of a trav
elling bag. I listened in wonder and
astonishment, behind my newspaper, to
stories ot luyEelt, whicn it they had been
true would have consigned any man to
a prison for life. After my fictitious
biographer had occupied Himself for
nearly an hour with the eloquent recital
of my delinquencies and crimes, I very
quietly joined in tho conversation. Of
course I began by modestly doubting
some statements which 1 had 111st heard,
touching the author ot ' Bleak Houee,
and other unimportant works of a simi
lar character. The man stared at me.
and evidently considered my appearance
on the conversational stage an intrusion
and an impertinence. ' You seem to
speak,' I said, ' from personal knowledge
ot Jiir. JJickens. Are you acquainted
with him i tie rather evaded the ques
tion, but, following him up closaly, I
compelled him to say that he had been
talking, not from his own knowledge ot
the author in question ; but he said he
knew lor a certainty that every state
nient he had made was a true one. '.
then btcamo more earnest in my in
quiries for proof's, which he arrogantly
declined giving. The ladies sat by in
silence listening intently to what was
going forward. An author they had
been accustomed to read for amusumc-nt
had been traduced for the first time in
their hearing, and they were waiting
to learn what I had to say in refutation
of the clergyman's charges. I was taking
up his vile stories one by one and stamp
ing them as false in every particular,
when the man grew furious, and asked
ma if I knew Dickens personally. I re
plied, 'Perfectly well; no man knows
him better than I do ; and all your
stories about him from beginning to end,
to these ladies, are unmitigated lies.'
The man became livid with rage, and ask
efl for my card. ' You shall have it,' I said
coolly, and taking out one, I presented
it to him without bowing. We were
just then nearing the station in London,
so that I was spared a longer interview
with my truthful companion ; but, if I
were to live a hundred yearu, 1 should
not forgot the abject condition into
which the narrator of my crimes was in
stantly plunged. His face turned white
as his cravat, and his lips refused to
utter words. He seemed like a wilted
vegetable, and as if his legs belonged to
somebody else. The ladies oecame aware
of the situation at once, and bidding
them 'good day,' I stepped smilingly
out of the carriage. Before I could get
away from the station tho man had
mustered up strength sufficient to follow
me, and his apologies were so nauseous
and craven, that I pitied him from my
soul. I lett him with this caution, ' Be
fore you make charges against the char
acter of any man again, about whom
you know nothing, and of whose works
you are utterly ignorant, study to be a
seeker after Truth, and avoid Lying as
you would eternal perdition.' "
The Suez Cuiml nud Ihe Pacific Railroad.
The trade of Asia with America is a
good deal overrated, and the reason
seems to be because it has latterly been
in the bauds of a few houses. There are,
however, single dry-goods houses in the
city which annually sell merchandize to
twice the amount of all the China trade
of the country. Our tea trade is not so
large us it is supposed to be. We use
but 40,000,000 pounds a year, the value
of which is about $25,000,000. The
quantity of silk exported to us from
China is $ 3.000,000 in value. The rest
of our trade with China does not amount
to much. They send us yearly gome
$3,000,000 worth of matting, camphor,
drugs and fire-crackers.
We have no trade with India at all.
It was onoo thought that the Suez Canal
would interfere with the Pacific Rail
road in the transportation of goods from
Asia to New York, but there seems to be
no ground for this. The reason why
there is not likely to bo my competition
is because the canal route is so much
slower than the railroad. The shipping
often begins in June or July, although
the bulk leaves China in August aud
September. So that by the time the ves
sels carrying the Asiatic freights have
passed the canal and reached the Straits,
of Gibraltar, the storms of the Atlantio
have set in, and the voyage hither is de
layed. The smallness of the steamers
engaged in the canal trtffio is also
against it. The canal is ieen enough
for large steamers, and to sustain these
there must be a large passenger bust-
ness. Very few passengers pass between
China and the Atlantio coast of this
country, and so small steamers are em
ployed to carry tne tea, ana these can
not make quick passages, ofteb. consum-
ing thirty days from Gibraltar to New
York. JY. X. evening rout.
Country Life For Women.
Tho following extracts are auoted
from an address delivered at Stookbridge,
Mass., recently, by Mrs. Henry M. Field,
wife of the editor of the Ewngelkt :
Everywhere now the voice of woman
is heard claiming new rights, advocating
new theories as to her future destinies ;
and in her newly-awakened ambition
she is in danger of overlooking or des
pising the opportunities for good and
tor happiness within her reach. To
assert to-day that the limited sphere of
country life can afford her these oppor
tunities, would perhaps accord little with
the spirit of the time. But here, women
possessing talents and social advantages
of no common order, have thrown such a
charm on secluded life, have stamped it
with such a character ot cultnre, refine
ment, and dignity, that, thanks to them,
Stockbridge is known all over the land
as a place of social and intellectual pri
vilege, as well as of natural beauty.
Here then, and on this occasion, country
life for women may well become the
theme of the hour.
To be born in the country is a great
advantage. Not only it prepares the
strength and health of the body, but it
b.rgiiis the moial and intellectual de-
velopement in the right direction
.Nature is an admirable teacher, and
she has lessons for all ages ; she speaks to
the imagination of the child with as
much power as to that of the poet and
the artist. At the outset in the young
life, truth and simplicity are the founda
tions of the character.
And as to the training of the mind,
the district school, with its inexorable lev
eling democratic spirit, is, I am inclined
to think, the most favorable beginning
of education. It has a rough strength
which tells well on the character. With
no smoothing of difficulties, no false pre
tense, it asks from the child what his
good sense tells him at once is of absolute
necessity tor his success in lite.
V e go very wrong in the city in this
matter of elementary education. The
poor little city scholar cannot, as well as
his country cousin, comprehend the ne
cessity of his task. Why, he asks.
learn this French jargon or thrum
piano for hours 'i Do we half the time
know ourselves? And when we see in
the child indication of great talent, we
often put on such a high pressure that
we destroy the germ in the bud ; while
in the mind of the sturdy free child of
the country it slumbers and grows in
silence, and bursts forth at last in all its
vigorous individuality, for in this coun
try opportunities for this dovelopement
are never wanting.
In the village school a girl learns
what is absolutely essential ; she is in
spired with no morbid or exaggerated
ambition. It ot dull limited faculties.
she is contented with her lot : harmoni
ous and healthy in every point, she
prepared for her humble work in life,
and will do it well. But it her ambition
is quickened, it is in the right direction
on no false pretense, but on the strength
of her character, aud based on her love
for knowledge. She does not dream of
being an accomplished woman of socie
ty, or of writing for magazines, she
wants to learn tor the sake ot knowledgi
itself. For society has not yet tempted
her, has not offered her a stage for the
display of a frivolous vanity.
1 have known some ot these brave
New-England girls and such I have
seen nowhere else who worked two or
three years in a factory to earn the
means for better schooling; who taught
patiently tor a paltry salary so as to so-
cure better opportunities of instruction,
They were in the right path. They had
still a great deal to learn, but very little
to unlearn.
" Oh !" said to. me one day a pretty
girl of New York, speaking of a youth
ful millionaire. " These young men
give us bouquets, escort us to the Park,
or to the opera ; but they love and marry
country girls '." And J said, " They are
right r
But let us imagine woman settled in'
the country ; living no longer in a land
of dreams, but in her own home, with
her simple household duties belore her.
A Iwme in the country what a vision for
some of dullness and monotony ! to
others of sweet, pure, tranquil happiuesa,
The woman married to the man she
loves and respects, mother of children
who promise to fulfill the desire of her
heart, is so blessed by Providence that
she ought to be happy in any sphere,
Household labor, " doing her own work.
is not drudgery when done for those she
loves.
Country life was for jour forefathers
a 6tern reality, an incessant struggle for
existence ; but Nature, even m her
rudest aspect, is always a loving mother,
and she gave them the strength of char
acter, the steadiness ot purpose, which
they have transmitted to their descend-
ants.
Our country homes are very different
rroui wnat they were in the old time.
In accepting the advantages of the pres
ent we ought to guard jealously the
modest simplicity which belonged to the
past.
In the country, whatever her circum
stances of fortune, woman finds that
which is an imperative want of her na
ture a rejined Junne. In a city, if poor,
she cannot escape, or shield her children
from, the noisy vulgar life swarming
around her ; the tenement lodging, or
the second rate boarding-house only re
main to her. But under a pure sky, in
a balmy atmosphere, the humblest cot
tage nestling at the foot of the mountain,
or under the shadow of one of our ma
jestic elms, can bo the fitted home, I
will not say of a lady the word is asso
ciated with too many vulgar pretentions
but of a gentlewoman. This just
equality between the cottage and the
more costly residence, establishes at once
easy social relations. If the circumstan
ces of position and education may modi
fy them, they never alter the kind feel
ing which renders the name of neighbor
almost synonymous with friend.
When a young woman living near by,
and whom you all will recognize, guided
by a natural artistio instinct, formed
over her door a simple arch of the golden
rods and wild flowers of our forests, she
gave pleasure to all who passed her
dwelling, and revealed to them in the
work of an hour of inspiration one of
her most charming characteristics. In
the same manner many little gardens,
kept with care, increase every day the
charm of this place, and indicate the
presence of women for whom flowers are
a love and a delight. Yes, the appear
anco of our homes is of importance in
the summing up of our social influence ;
and the little details, however simple in
themselves, may speak powerfully to the
imagination. One evening this spring
we were in one of the cosiest homes of
the village, sitting around a table, a
group of women and children, the lamp
lghting brightly the whole room, when
one of the family came from outside, and
elolaimed, " What a picture this makes
from the Btreet I I will not clone the
shutters, it does the heart good to see it."
So it is, the "light in the window"
cheers many who are in the darkness.
in attempting in these lew words to
point out the pleasures and resources of
country lite, 1 would not be supposed to
ignore as unworthy ot attention the just
claims of women for better chances of
culture and work ; but the question is
too important, and demands too serious
consideration for the place and the hour.
Wnat X have tried to prove is, that troni
the country woman starts with real ad
vantages ; that thero her life, beautiful
in its security and refinement, does not
dwarf her intellect or the developement
of her talents, for it is from rural re
treats that come the best works of our
feminine literature.
The Society of the Cincinnati in France.
Americans observe many pleasant
changes in J) ranee since the essabliBh
mcnt of the Republic. Among them is
the fact that the descendants of the
French officers who assisted us during
the war of independence appear on pub
lic occasions displaying the American
decoration ot " Ihe bociety ot the tin
cinnati," and wear its badge constantly,
Among them is the Marquis de Lestey-
rie, grandson ot the JVlarnuis de Liatay-
ette, who received the medal originally
from George Washington, the first and
only President ot the Society during bis
lifetime. The former recently stated to
Dr. Evans, the eminent American physi
cian of Paris, that although he had been
decorated by Napoleon with the Grand
Cross of the Legion of Honor, he was
prouder ot the American decoration re
ceived by his illustrious grandfather
from the hands of Washington, aud
handed down to him, than any other.
Marquis do Lavalette has always worn
his badge even during the rule of Louis
Napoleon. The decoration or medal of
the society is a solid, highly wrought
gold eagle, about the usual size ot such
decorations. Upon the breast of the
eagle is a delicately raised representation
ot Umcinnatus at the plow. It is sus
pended from a rich blue ribbon with
white margin. This decoration is only
worn on public occasions on the left
breast. Accompanying each decoration
is a neat badge made of the same kind
of ribbou described above. 1 1 forms a
sort of rosette button, and is worn on all
occasions, when it so pleases its posses
sor, in tne uppermost button-bole ot the
coat on tne lett side.
Several American residents in Paris,
members of the Society, wear the badge.
Among them is Dr. Evans, referred to
above, and Mr. George S. Patridge, who
received tne decoration trom Ins grand
father, Col. William Few of Rhode
Island,
At the time of the coup d'etat of Louis
Napoleon, the original French members
of the society were makmg an angements
to revive it in France, but tho success of
Napoleon's dynasty put a stop to their
efforts. So distasteful to petty tyrants
was this American decoration, that Gus
tavus III., King of Sweden, forbade of
ficers la the French army who had been
in America, and were his subjects, from
displaying the deooratio or wearing
the baugo, on the ground that the So
ciety ot the Cincinnati had a ReDubli
can tendency not suited to his govern
ment.
Hon. Hamilton Fish, Secretary of
State, is now President of the Society.
Among its honorary members mav be
mentioned Benjamin Franklin, Robert
Morris, Chancellor Livingston, Gouvcr
neur Morris, Rufus King, Stephen Van
Jtennseiaer, donn u. Warren, W. ix.
Prescott, and Daniel Webster. The So
ciety was formed after the peace of 1783.
It was originally composed of oftioers of
the American srmy and continued
in
their kinsmen and representatives
Walt Whitman.
A Washington correspondent of the
Philadelphia Preet thus describes Walt
hitman
I take it for granted, reader, that you
have been to Washington. If so, you
have certainly seen upon the Avenue a
medium-sized individual, whose pants are
baggy, whose ooat is much too big for
mm, wnose hair is white and long, whose
beard, of the same color, tlow far be
neath his chin ; whose shirt is open, dis
playing to the admiring multitude a
naked breast, and whose enormous slouch
hat is not the least remarkable part of
the attire of this remarkable man. His
bat he carries in his hand as frequently
as he wears it upon his head. In answer
to your inquiries you will be told, if
your companion knows whereof he
speaks, that it is Walt Whitman, the
poet, the author of " Leaves of Grass,"
"Drum Taps," etc., and government
clerk in the Attornev-General's ofnoa.
The time Walt does not give to duty
(for he is a faithful, hard-working officer)
he passes upon the street and iu other
public places. He delights in being
seen. 1 have seen him on a warm day
promenade the Avenue iu his shiit
sleeves ; have passed him near the Dost
office, seated upon the curbstone, reading
his mail ; have looked at him drinking
soda-water with the maiestio air of h
sovereign. - He has a high opinion of his
powers, but Knows that he is not aimre
u .1 jl.I-il. . . .
now uvuw wee to deliver au ongi-
uttipucm t uie pemog or cue American
oaniu a. a.urVu ue u uiougot nnioh this saving at ugt less than 50,000AH)0 a
of. lie is not now at any literary work year, and it iusisU that everything de
that 1 Can hear of, although he erbea to manria a general adnnti
MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS.
Minnesota is at work on ten railroads.
Missouri has an enormous grape crop
this season.
One of the best doctors at Columbus,
Ga., could not read when twenty-three
years old.
Pianos are mounted now on glass cas
tors, which is said to improve the tone
very much.
Here is a new sort of casualty. A boy
has just been killed in Boston by the
explosion of a beer barrel. Liquor bar
rels usually kill in a different way from
this, but the expeditious method is per
haps to be preferred to the slower pro
cess.
Several girls are now employed in
Milwaukee as carriers of newspapers to
city subscribers. They are prompt,
quick, and so for have been found relia
ble. A French sewing machine is now on
exhibition in London which is driven by
clock-work arrangement, to be wound
up in the UBual way. The speed is in
geniously regulated by a set of vanes,
which may be adjusted to otter a greater
or less resistance to the air. The inven
tion saves both time and trouble, but
the price is so high as to prevent its
coming into ordinary use.
If we are to believe the medical ex
perts and official returns, upward of
3,000 infants are yearly murdered in
England. In London itself as many as
481 infants were found in the streets in
less than a year and a half, and numbers
disappear without any trace. The re
sults of a government inquiry, as just
made known, are a scandal to the coun
try and the age.
Beverly, in Massachusetts, is known as
" Bean Town." No virtuous citizen of
that place thinks of passing Sunday
morning without baked pork and beans
tor breakfast. Formerly they went to
the different bakeries Saturday nights,
each man with his bean-pot. Each pot
was numbered with a check as received,
and the number given to the owner.and
crowds would gather around the bakery
door Sunday morning, each man calling
his number and receiving his pot. But
now they have a pottery in the town,
and each householder has had his bean-
pot made to order, with his name or ini
tials baked into the sides, and the plan
works beautifully. The bakers charge
six cents for baking beans, and it is no
mean source of revenue
The Wabash (Indiana) country has
always been celebrated for the persist
ency and quality of its fever and ague.
A local physician thus describes the
genuine Wabash article : " It comes
creeping up a fellow's back like a ton of
wildcats; goes crawling through his
joints like iron spikes, and is followed by
a iever which prohibits the patient from
thinking of anything but Greenland's
Icy Mountains. It isn't the ' every
other day ' kind, but gets up with a man
at daylight, and sleeps in the small of
his back all night. -His teeth feel about
six inches long, his joints wobble like a
loose wagon wheel, and the shakes are
so steady that one can't hold a conver
sation except by putting in dashes."
The Toronto Leader says that an asso
ciation of French gentlemen has Altered
into arrangements for the purchase of
fifty thousand acres of land, in one of
the counties on the north shore of the
St. Lawrence, between Quebeo and Three
Rivers, for the purpose of establishing a
colony of Alsatians. Many of the in-
habitants of Alsace view with abhor-
rence the idea of living under German
rule, and it is thought a sufficient num
ber to form a large colony could easily
be persuaded to emigrate from their na
tive land to Canada. They would form
a valuable addition to the population of
the .Province, tor the Alsatians are an
industrious and peaceful people, differ
ent altogether from the turbulent classes
who keep Paris and some other parts of
France in almost constant turmoil.
The difference between the diet of the
ancients and that of us moderns is very
striking. The ancient Greeks and Ro
mans used no alcoholio liquor, it being
unknown to them ; nor cottee, nor tea,
nor chocolate, nor sugar, nor even but
ter, tor Galen tells us that he had never
seen butter but once in his life. They
were ignorant of the greater number of
our tropical spices, as clove, nutmeg,
mace, ginger, Jamaica jpepper, curry, pi
mento, xney used neither buckwheat,
nor French beans, nor maize, nor toma
toes, nor spinach, nor sage, tapioca, arrow-root,
nor pumpkin, squash, potato,
or its varieties : not even the common,
but a sort of marsh-grown bean not
many of our fruits, as the orange, tama
rind. On the contrary they ate sab
stances which we now neglect the mal
low, the herb, ox-tongue, the sweet
acorn, the lupin. They liked the flesh
of wild asses, dogs, the dormouse, the
fox, and the bear.
Chicago claims to be able to compete
ia the sale of foreign goods with New
York. The Tribune argues that foreign
goods can be delivered at Chicago
twenty per ceut. less than they can be
Eurchased from New York jobbers, cr
)ss than tbey will cost atter going
through our Custom House. There has
just been an importation of dry goods
iroin Liverpool to Chicago, by steam all
me way, in twenty-two days, and even
this time can be shortened. The Tribune
thinks " there is no reason why St. Louis
should not import through Chicago all
the foreign goods it now gets from New
York, and upon which it pays such ex
cessive tolls the freights from Montreal
to Chicago, and thence to St. Louis by
rail, being as cheap, if not cheaper, than
from New York to that city by rail."
A very large proportion of the imports
at this port find a market in the West,
Northwest, and Southwest, and all of
these goods may be imported directly
through Chicago at a large saving of
ume ana money, iub irxuune estimates
Lawrence route by. the merchant of
Chicago ana the West for thair foreitm
i