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ELK COUNT J -THE REPUBLICAN PARTY.
VOL II.
v RIDGWAY, PA,. THURSDAY, NOVEMBER H, 1872.
NO. 37.
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POETRY,
PRETTY MABEL.
Side hy side with Pretty Mabel
Bat. I, with th. sunshade dowm !: . .
Ia the distance hurom'd th. Babel
Of the many-footed T.wn ;
There we tnte with looks unstable
Now of tenderness, .f frown.
" Must w. part or may I linger t
Wax th. shadows, wanes th. day." .
Then, with Toice as sweetost slngor
That has almost died away,
" O. I" she said ; bat tightened finger
Said articulately, Stay I"
Jsce to face with Pretty Mabel,
With th. faur.y curtains drawn ; '
Till a tense, I am unable '
To eonrey, began to dawn;
Till the slant snn fiuns; the t-ablo
Far athwart th. sleepy lawn. ,
" Now I fro. Adlen, adieu, lore I
This is weakness ; sweat, be str.ni;.
Oomes the footfall of the dew. lore I
Philomel's reminding sonff."
" Go !" she said : " but I go, too, lore I
Go with you, my life, along I"
Hand In hand with Pretty Mabel,
Through petplexltlei of lif. ;
'Mid all other shlftiags stable,
Quiet 'mid surrounding strife;
No mere forms ef pleasant fable,
,. But a husband and a wife.
1 HE STORY-TELLER,
SUCCESS AXD FAILURE.
I had come come back, after an ab
sence of nearly twenty-five years, to
linger for a brief time amidst the old
E laces made 'sacred to memory by child
cod and youth. "How familiar, and yet
how changed in its familiarity was every
thing ! every thing but the living who
remained.; and they were few, for death
had been there as everywhere. I asked
for this one and that one, as the thought
of boyish friends came trooping .back
upon me, and the answer, " Dead," came
so frequently that I felt as if a pestilence
must have been there.
" What of Payson said I.
" Oh, he's all right," came the cheerful
answer of the old friend with whom I
was conversing.
" How all right '" I inquired.
My friend pointed to an elegant house
standing in the midst of ornamental
grounds that were adorned with foun
tains and statuary.
" He lives there," said he.
I remembered him as young man of
small means, but industrious and saving.
We had been tolerably intimate and I had
liked him for his amiability, intelligence,
and cheerful temper.
" Then he has become a rich man t"l
' " Yes, he is tfur wealthiest townsman ;
one" of the most successful men in this
region of country." " '
"Did he build that house V"
" Yes, and its style Bhows how well his
taste is cultivated. We feel naturally
proud of Mr. Payson."
" Then he is liberal as a citizen, using
his wealth in enterprises that look to the
common good '"
" Oh, as to that," was the reply, " he is
like other men."
" How like other men ?"
" Thinks more of himself than he does
of ether people."
" And what of Melleville '(" I asked.
" Henry Melleville '("
"Yes."
There was a change in my companion's
countenance and manner that did not
foreshadow a good report. He shook his
head as he replied :
" Poor Melleville stands about where
you left him ; never has succeeded well
in any thing."
" I am grieved to hear you say that.
Of all my young friends I valued him
most."
" It is too true ; and I am sorry for it.
That is his house." And he pointed to a
plain white cottage, standing not far
from the splendid residence of Mr. Pay
son, which made it look poor and almost
mean in contrast.
" Strange diversity of fortune I" I said,
speaking partly to myself. " Taking the
two men as I now recall them, Melleville
most deserved suecess."
" He was an excellent young man,"
was replied to this ; " but lacked force of
character, I suppose, or some other ele
ment of success. What, I don't really
know, for I have not been very intimate
with him for some years. He is peculiar
in some things, and don't have a great
many warm friends."
" Not so many as Mr. Payson, I pre
sume." " Oh no ! Of course not."
I was surprised at this intelligence.
Of the two men, I carriod in my mind
by far the pleasantest recollections of
Melleville, and was prepared to hear of
his success in life beyond that of almost
every other one I had left in my native
place.
What of Henry Melleville ?" I asked
of another.
" Oh, he's a stick in the mud," was
answered coarsely, and with an indiffer
' ent toss ef the head.
" I am sorry that my old friend Henry
Melleville has made out so poorly," said
I, speaking of him in a third direction.
What is the cause of iff"
" The causes of success or failure in
life are deeply hidden," was the answer
I received. Some men profess to be
gifted with a clear sight in these mat
ters ; but I own to being in the dark.
There isn't an honester or more industri
ous man in the world than Melleville,
and yet he don't get along. Five or six
years ago he seemed to be doing very
well, better than usual, when his shop
burned down, and he lost not only val
uable tools, but a considerable amount
of stock, finished and unfinished."
" nod he no insurance '("
" Yes, but it was only partial ; just
enough to get him going again. Ten
years ago be had a mill, and was doing,
ce told me, very well, when a spring
freshet carried away the dam and water
wheel. He had only ranted the mill,
and as the owner was in pecuniary diffi
culty, and involved at the same time in
a lawsuit about this very property, no
repairs were attempted, and he was
forced to abandon a business that looked
very promising. And so it has been
wito, him all along. There ever cornea
some pull back just as he gets fairly on
the road to success."
" How does he bear his misfortunes ?"
I inquired. .,
" I never heard him oemplain."
" It has beea different with Mr. Pay
sen." " O dear, yes i his whole life has been
marked with success, W hatever he touch
es turns to eold."
The testimony in regard to the two
men agreed in the general. One had
succeeded in life, the other had not. I
felt interest enough in both of them to
get a nearer point of view, and so, in
virtue of old acquaintanceship, called to
see them. My first visit was to Mr.
Payson. WaS it because, like the rest of
the world, I was more strongly attracted
by the successful man ? Have it so, if
you will : human nature is weak.
" Will you send up your name ?" said
the servant, who showed me into a rather
stylishly-furnished office, where it was
plain, from the display of books and
papers, that Mr. Payson met his visitors
who came on business.
I gave my name, and then waited for
nearly live minutes before the gentleman
appeared. I saw, the instant my eyes
rested on his face, that he was in some
unpleasant doubt as to the purpose of
my visit..
" Mr. Payson," said I, warmly, as I
arose and extended my hand.
He pronounced my name, but in a
tone guiltless of pleasure or cordiality.
The earnest pressure of my hand received
no appreciative return. His Sneers lav
in mine like the senseless fingers of a
sleeper. I was chilled by his manner,
and felt like retiring without another
word. But having approached him, I
was not willing to recede without read
ing him with some care.
' It is twenty-five years since we met,"
said I, after resuming the seat from
which I had arisen. " Time works great
changes in all of us." . ,
' So long as that," he responded, with
out interest.
" Yes, it is twenty-five years since I
went from the home-nest out into the
world, an ardent, hopeful young man."
" And how has the world used you ?''
He did not look at me in direct aspect,
but with a slightly angular range of
vision, as if there were a selfish suspicion
in his mind touching the object of my
visit.
" I have no complaint to make against
the world," said I.
" You are a rara avis, then," he replied,
with the ghost of a smile ; " the first
man I have met in a decade who didn't
rail at the world for treating him badly."
" Has it treated you badly f I could
not help smiling back into his face as I
asked this question. .
" Yes ; or, at least, the people in it.
The world is well enough, I suppose ; but
the people I Oh dear! Every other
man you meet has some design on' you."
" 1 our experience has been more un
favorable than mine," said I.
" Then you are fortunate that is all I
have to say."
I had been reading the face of this
friend of my younger days -attentively
from the moment he came in. He looked
older by forty years, instead of by twenty
five. But time had not improved his
face, as it does some faces. Every fea
ture remained ; I would have known him
among a thousand ; but every feature
was changed in its stronger or feebler
development. All that expressed kind
ness, humanity, and good-will had nearly
died out ; while hard selfishness looked
at you from every lineament."
" You have been fortunate," I remarked,
" as to this world's goods. Your garner
is filled with the land's fatness."
The reference did not seem wholly
agreeable.
" When I went from this neighborhood
you were a poor . young man. I return,
and find that yeuhave heaped up wealth
in rich abundance. Only the, few are
successful in your degree.
" Money isn't happiness," he replied,
his hard, heavy forehead contracting.
" No ; but it may be made the minister
of happiness," I said, in return.
"Yes, I know. That's the common
talk of the day." He answered in a kind
of a growl. " I find it the minister of
eviL"
" You surprise me. Eich men are not
wont to speak after this fashion."
- "Then they don't speak from their
hearts, as I do."
"You have health and a beautiful
home. These are elements of real hap
piness." He shut his lips tightly and shook his
head.
" I have no sound health. Don't know
what it is to have a pleasant bodily sen
sation. And as for the beautiful home
to which you refer "
He checked himself, and became silent,
while a painful expression settled in his
face.
" You have children ?"
He lifted his eyes to mine with a ques
tioning look, as if he thought me probing
him.
" Yes," he simply answered.
" Pretty well grown by this time t"
" Some of them." He paused and then
added, " And quite past me. Children,
Sir!" His manner grew suddenly ex
cited. But he checked himself, with a
slight air of cenfusion ; then went on.
" Children, Sir I" stopped once more, as
if in shame.
" Happy is the man that hath his quiv
er full of them," said I, cheerfully.
Payson merely shrugged his shoulders,
and looked stolid and unhappy. I re
ferred, in order to change the subject, to
a topio of publio interest. But his an
swers showed that he had no intelligent
appreciation of a matter in which every
man of thought felt a common interest.
When I left him, after half an hour's in
terview, it was with the Impression that,
outside of money, he was the most un
successful man it had been my fortune
to meet in this world. In nothing be
sides money-getting had he succeeded.
When I last saw him he was a cheerful,
bright, hopeful, good-tempered young
man. Now he was morose, gloomy, and
dull of intellect, except in a single direc
tion a great money fungus, without
any of the elements of a noble and true
life.
Upon inquiry I learned that, while
his children were young, he was so ab
sorbed in his fields and in his merchan
dise that he had no time or inclination
to cultivate their morals or to win their
love. In matters of no real moment as
to the welfare of these children he would
interfere with his wife's management of
I them in an arbitrary and tyranical way ;
thus closing their minds against him,
and destroying his influence over them
for good. Badly ' managed, repressed
unwisely in some directions and unwise
ly indulged in others, they were grow
, ing up selfish, ill-tempered, proud, and
exacting ; cursing with discord his home
instead of blessing it with love. And
he, as far as I could learn, giving way to
a morose temper, made their lives as un-oomf-rtable
as they made his. It was
mutual antagonism, and under circum
stances that precluded a separation. And
here was my successful man I
" My dear old friend I" exclaimed Hen
ry Melleville, grasping my hand as he
opened the door of his modeBt little
home, and stood looking me in the face,
his own fine ccuntenanoe all aglow with
pleasure. " This is a surprise ! Come
in 1 Come in I" And he drew me along
the passage into a small parlor, the
meagre furiture of which told the story
of his limited means.
" When did you arrive ? Where did
you come from 'i Why, it's over let me
see over twenty years since you were
here, or at least since I have seen you
here."
" Over twenty-five," said I.
" So long 1 Is it possible ? Well, how
are you, and where are you ? Tell me
all about yourself."
All about myself! And the interest
was sincere and cordial. " I must hear
about you first," I answered, smiling
back into his smiling face. " How is it
with you '("
" Oh, as well as I deserve, and some
thing better," he replied, cheerfully. No
shadows came over his face.
" You have not succeeded in getting
rich, I see."
" Not rich in this world's goods ;
but true success in life is not always to
be measured by gold. We start, in early
manhood, with happiness as the end in
view, and in most cases wealth is con
sidered the chief means of securing that
end. I own I have fallen into the error
myself. But my successes have not been
in that direction. Biches would have
done me more harm than good, and so
in mercy they have not been e-iven. I
struggled hard for them ; I called them
lor a time the greatest good, or the chief
means toward attaining the greatest
food. I was unhappy when disaster and
isappointment came."
" But a manly philosophy ouoto.;ned
you, .aid I
"it .were better caned religion," he
answered, his voice falling into a lower
key. " I tried philosophy, but it wouldn't
do ; and so, in my weakness and pain, I
went up higher, to the ' Sfrorfg for
strength."
His face lighted up beautifully. '
" And found Him a friend that sticketh
closer than a brother," I remarked.
" Yes, in truth. am poor ; but His
are the cattle upon a thousand bills."
" You have children '(" I said.
" Yes, and good children, thank God.
Loving children !"
His eyes glistened as he spoke.
And this was the man who had not
succeeded, this was the man of whom
some spoke with pity; some with indif
ference, and some even with contempt as
of no account. But Payson was " all
right!" I referred to Payson.
" Poor man !" was the reply. " I never
look at him without a feeling of pity."
" He has succeeded largely."
" There is a difference of opinion about
that," said Melleville. "Some think he
has failed miserably."
" He is rich."
" In money, and in nothing else ; and
of all riches that comes with fewest bles
sings. If not accompanied by riches of
the mind and heart, gold always curses
its possessor. So I read in the book of
human life. It has cursed Payson. I
would not exchange places with him,
taking his consciousness and state of
mind, for the wealth of a thousand
worlds. No ! no ! no !"
He spoke with earnestness.
" I have seen him," said I.
" Well, how did he impress you '("
" As to all that is worth living for, I
should say with you that his life has been
a miserable failure."
" And so are the lives of thousands,"
he answered, " whom the world points
out as its most successful men. Get close
to them ; see them in their true individ
uality ; in their homes, if you can ap
proach that near, and you will see poor
wrecks of manhood, bloated selfishness,
tormenting itself with ill-nature, or mad
with pain from some eating cancer of the
soul that goes on, day and night, with
its work of ruin."
I saw these two men frequently dur
ing the few days that I lingered in the
old familiar places, and when I went
away it was with no nicely-balanced
question in my thought as to which was
the truly successful man.
A Pathetic Sheep Story.
The St. Louis Democrat prints this
beautiful little story : " There is a cov
ered bridge at Peoria 500 feet above high,
water mark. A drover recently attempted
to drive 1,000 sheep across it. When
about half way over, the bellweather
noticed an open window, and, recognizing
his destiny, made a strike for glory and
the grate. When he reached the sun
light he at once appreciated his critical
situation, and, with a leg stretched to
ward each cardinal point of the compass,
he uttered a plaintive ' Ma-a !' and de
scended to his fate. The next sheep and
the next followed, imitating the gesture
and the remark of the leader. For hours
it rained sheep. The erewhilo placid
stream was incarnadine with the life
blood of moribund mutton, and not un
til the brief tail of the last sheep as it
disappeared through the window waved
adieu to this wicked world did the move
ment sease."
A tuft of ostrioh feathers, with a geld
or silver aigrette, are much worn as a
head -dress in evening toilet.
. Effect of Alcohol On Lontrevltv.
The recent issue of the "Journal of
the Institute of Actuaries of Great
Britain and Ireland," contains a paper
read at the institute by Francis G. P.
Neison, Esq., F.S.C., Actuary, on " The
Influpnco of Occupation upon Health."
Mr. Neison shows the death-rate among
miners, among the workers and dealers
in metals, among gardeners, carpenters,
masoti3, shoemakers, butchers, domestic
servants, liquor dealers, etc. The result
is, that among those engaged in every
branch of the liquor traffic the death
rate is even higher than among miners.
Here are the rates 25 to 65 years of age :
i
MORTALITY FOB ONB THOUSAND PER80H8
LIVING.
Per 1,000 persons.
Gardeners . . , , 10.4
Carpenters 13.7
Shoemakers 14.4
Masons... j,... 17.0
Butchers T 17.4
Iron-miners 18.0
Coal-miners 18 2
Tiu-mlners . 19.9
Beer-sellers 21.5
Wine and spirit merchants 25.0
Publicans, licensed vinters, Inn nnd hotel-
keepers together 25.0
Inn and hotel-keepers -. 27.0
Mr. Neison says: " Though no advo
cate of teetotalism, this table certainly
presents facts of the utmost importance
as to the influence of drinks and stimu
lants upon health. In no
other, class is such a high death-rate pre
sented as amongst the various occupa
tions connected with drinks and stimu
lants." "The" average death-rate here
given is forty years, for all living from
25 to 65 years of age.- -
Taking all living between 45 and 05
years of age, and the death-rate is as follows'.-
i i: '
Gardeners 14.5
Beer-sellers 80.3
Wine and spirit merchants 31.8
Publicans, licensed vinters, inn and hotel
keepers together 330
Inn and hotel-keepers 30.2
It will thus be seen that for every Hi
gardeners who die between the ages of
45 and 65, no less than 3G 1-5 hotel-keep
ers die ; although gardeners have to la
bor hard and hotel-keepers do not.
The, Throw Stick.
Sir Walter Elliot has traced to East
India a curved " throw stick," resemb
ling, but differing from, the Australian
bomerang, inasmuch as it does not re
turn to the hand gwhen thrown. The
Indian "throw stick" is found among
the rude races inhabiting the mountain
and forest tracks of Central and Western
India.- In wonta and iuiieln trunks. tH
people turn out in great numbers during
the hot season, commencing on the first
day of the Hindu new year in March,
and continued on every succeeding Sun
day till .the monsoon ' begins. Hares,
deer, hog, . pea-fowls, partridges, etc.,
raised by this lowly race of beaters, each
carrying 'a "throw stick, are knocked
over by showers of these weapons thrown
with great force and precision.
rom the form ox such sticks, which
are from 1 to 2 feet long and 3 to 6
inches broad, thrown with the concave
side foremost, the author deduced the
foi m assumed by the iron weapons sub
sequently formed by the same races.
Professor Huxley, in classifying the va
rieties of the human race exclusively for
physical characters, had included under
one head the people of New South Wales,
ot the Highlands 01 Central India, and
of Ancient Egypt, all of whom he in
cludes under the term Australoid. Now
it is a remarkable coincidence that among
these three far distant peoples the
' throw stick " was the weapon of the
chase, and that examples do not occur
in the intermediate countries. The pic
tures in the tombs of the kings at Thebes
represent hunting scenes in which the
curved sticks found at this day in India
are extensively represented. The bome
rang of Australia is precisely of the same
form, but, being thinner and lighter, is
so fitted as to have a recoiling property.
A Caution.
An eminent English magistrate, wise,
learned, and - most highly .esteemed, re
cently died by his own hand, at the age
of fifty-eight. This tragic end was mani
festly brought about by the nervous ex
haustion and mental depression conse
quent upon overworking both brain and
body. A dozen years ago the health of
this judge began to suffer from his con
stant labors, but ha gave himself no
rest; work had become a habit with
him, and he continued to overload him
self. Three years ago depression of
spirits and other signs ef mental fatigue
and disease showed themselves. Still he
gave no reasonable attention to the laws
of health, and even refused to take the
ordinary recreation which was within
his reach. His labors during the past
summer had been specially exhausting,
and he often found himself unable to
sleep. It is stated that for two weeks
the overtired worker obtained no sleep.
Even then he persisted in keeping buay.
A few days before his death he became
exceedingly depressed and silent, his
memory failed, and various peculiarities
were noticed. He had always evinced
the greatest horror of the crime of self-
destrustion ; yet reason became so per
verted that he sought relief from his suf
ferings by suioide.
Such a death is an impressive warn
ing to all brainworkers of the danger of
constant and excessive exercise of that
delicate and sensitive organ. When de
sire for gain, the temptations of ambi
tion, the love of labor or study for its
own sake, or any motive, however laud
able in itself, leads to the neglect of the
laws of health.it is time to check the im
pelling impulse. And the brain-worker
who cannot tlep may well take instant
alarm. The mind must have rest, or it
will avenge itseu teartully.
" Was Mr. Brown a very popular man
when he lived in your town ir" inouired
a busy-bod; of his friend.. "I should
think he was," replied the gentleman,
" as many persons endeavored to pre
vent his leaving; and several of them,
including the sheriff's deputy, followed
him for some distance."
The Epidemic Among Horses.
A sudden calamity has fallen upon the
horses of the northern part of the Ameri
can continent, by which nearly the whole
of them are rendered temporarily use
less. The virulence of the complaint is
such that, within two days, mere than
half the horses of New York and its su
burbs are stricken, and require rebt and
treatment. Hack-stands are deserted,
travel is impeded, labor' is suspended,
and an almost Sabbath-like stillness falls
upon the ordinarily crowded and noisy
streets. Fortunately the nature of this
attack is not so serious as it would seem
to be, and only its singularity gives rise
to apprehensions which its character
does not warrant. In other countries,
especially in England, its occurrence
uuder certain atmospheric conditions is
looked upon as a matter of course, and
familiarity, although it may not exactly
breed contempt, nevertheless prevents
either astonishment or apprehension. It
is neither directly serious nor necessarily
fatal to any subject, unless complications
produce dangerous secondary effects. It
is a catarrhal fever, which, being caused
by conditions which are general, affects
at one and the same time the animals of
a whole district, and often of districts
comparatively distant from each other.
It is not contagious. It readily yields to
proper treatment. Best and careful
nursing and palliatives effect an easy
cure. The premonitory symptoms are
general listlessness, drooping head, an
excessive Becretion of tears, discharge
from the nose, at first thin and serous,
afterwards thick, like pus ; a cough
which rapidly increases in severity until
it is accompanied by bleeding from the
nose ; Iobs of appetite and great weak
ness, with cold-sweats and fever. The
treatment should be immediate if a rapid
recovery is desired. Work should be t us
pended at the first appearance of the
symptoms. Warm demulcent drinks,
such as flaxseed-tea, should be given.
Steaming the nostrils and head by means
ef a bag of scalded bran suspended be
neath the nose ; warm, dry bedding and
blanketing, and the production of a state
ot perspiration as soon as possible atter
attack, are necessary. The moment
healthy perspiration can be induced, a
cure is commenced. The stables should
be disinfected and well ventilated, but
no currents of air should be permitted
to blow upon the patient. Warm water,
copiously applied to the feet and legs,
which should afterwards be rubbed.quite
dry with coarse woolen , cloths, is useful
as is also similar friction over the whole
body. Medicine should not be adminis
tered unless by a careful and competent
surgeon. The soreness of the throat and
rtnn.afiiipnt rl lain Mi nut. inn in onrollpw Af-
ten cause liquid medicines to find their
way to the lungs, with fatal effect. Mild
irritants, such as mustard or ammonia,
rubbed on the throat, relieve the sore
ness, and tar-water for drink is a valu
able help. Braji-mashes or scalded oats,
with little bay, should be fed. With
such gentle treatment and careful nurs
ing, and a cautious return to work and
higher feed, nothing more serious than
a fuw days' suspension of work is to be
dreaded. It is probable that horned
stock, sheep, and pigs may be affected, in
which case treatment is aeedea similar
to that above described.
Life In ew York.
Despite the laws against " pretty waiter
girls," and the occasional raids upon sa
loons especially obnoxious on this ac
count, not even the palmiest days of
"444 and " ihe J-iouvre, betore the
war, could show more activity in this
branch of gas-light entertainment than
one now sees. " Murderers' Block," on
Broadway, is a glare of light from early
evening until early morn. Gaudy pits
yawn at every step, with glittering pic
tured announcements of the attractions
within, whence come sounds of what
may pass for music, punctuated, on oc
casions not always so rare, with the pop
of the joyous pistoL It may truly be
said that, with all its pretensions to a
recovery of virtue and a suppression of
incitements to vice, this city was never
more openly supplied with the means of
debauchery than at present. Ihe cos
tuming of the haggard creatures who
have taken the place of the "pretty
waiter girls " of yore is even more repre
hensible to the strict moralist. It con
sists of the dress of the theatrical paee.
only more exaggerated, it possible, and
while the enect is somewhat unpleasant
in inclement weather, the fact of its high
favor with the frequenters of these re
sorts is attested by the throngs that are
found here long after the meridian of
night is passed and when the milk-
wagons have lelt the hydrants to rattle
through the deserted streets on their
morning tour. The immense rents, too,
paid by these establishments, located on
the best part of Broadway, give evidence
of their prosperity. N. Y. Fajr.
The Story of the Pig.
A friend of ours was arguing in favor
oU buying large pigs in the spring, de
claring it to be very much better than to
buy small ones, as they would eat but
little more.
. A neighbor differed from him in opin
ion, whereupon he told a stoiy, which, in
the language of the day, 'took down ' his
opponent, and all hearers decided that
small pigs eat ' tome.' '
" Last spring," said he, " I bought a
little pig from a drover, and he was good
for eating, but wouldn't grow much. He
got so, after a week or two, that he
would eat a bucketful at a time, and
then, like Oliver Twist, would call for
more."
Well, what of it ? What has that got
to do with"
" Hold on ! I was goin to tell you.
One morning I carried out a water-bucket
full of provender, and after he had
swallowed it all, I picked up the pig and
put him in the same bucket that I had
:ed him from, and he didn't Kaf Jill it
up
Curious, isn't it ? And can real " sci
ence " explain the phenomena ?
- The prettiest round bat of the seasoa
is a white Indian lace burnous, It may
be worn with any toilette.
Hallowe'en.
On Hallowe'en all the witches, demons,
fairies, and aerial people who have out
lived the attacks of scientifio criticism
were supposed to be abroad, disporting
themselves as best they might. All
Saints' Day followed, which, in the
Christian world, has been a general feast
sinoe the ninth century. Halloween is
yet in origin a pagan institution, and
was known long ago in the British Isles
and the Norseland in the times of the
Druids. It is celebrated with merry
rites, the efncaoy of which is more than
half believed in by even the well-to-do
people in the northern counties of Eng
land and in Scotland, and it were a pity
should they ever die out, being so pleas
ant and harmless. The customs here
with connected have been brought to
this country by yeoman immigrants,
and will be practised in many a farm
house far out in the country to-night, as
well as in many city homes. Cakes and
ale, nuts and apples, will be abundantly
eaten and drunk ; games will be played,
and there will be good times every
where. Youngsters will "duck for ap
ples," and bring them up from the bot
tom of the water-tub in their teeth a
matter which is by no means easy for
one unaccustomed to it, since one's eyes
must be kept wide open under the water,
and the mouth open, too, sufficiently
wide to hold the fruit. Girls who wish
to see their future husbands will take a
thimbleful of salt before retiring for the
night, get to bed backwards, and, look
in at the moon if there be one say :
Thou moon, fair moon, I hall thee 1
Grant this night that I may see
Who my true loyer Is to be.
And, of course, when they awake thirsty
from their salt, the lovers' mystio forms
will bring them real water to drink. A
volume would hardly describe all the
customs of the eve, so many and varied
are they, and all are of "merry pleas-ance."
The Adulteration of Food.
The London Daily Telegraph observes
that nothing would be easier than to
collect a budget of droll sayings and
comic anecdotes concerning adulteration
to relate how the sanctimonious grocer
bade his apprentice, when he sanded the
sugar, watered the tobacco, and roasted
the horsebeans for the coffee, come to
prayers ; to tell how ground glass once
commonly went under the trade name of
" P. D;" or pepper dust, and was actually
mixed with that condiment ; and to
glance at all the stock stories about
"Mungo," or "Shoddy," or "Devils'
Dust." as, used in the sophistication of
woolen cloth ; uoout the v eneuau iou
earth and tallow in cocoa ; the copperas
in pickles ; the cocculus indicus and
grains of paradise in beer ; the turpen
tine and vitriol in gin ; the sloe-leaves
and chopped birch brooms in tea ; the
suet and water in butter ; the unutter
able and unknown nastiness in cheap
sausages. W ith the trutn or tne false
hood of most of these oft-told tales we
have, for the present, nothing to do.
The adulterator, it can not be too plainly
or strongly pointed out whether the
food he garbles be intended for the sus
tenance of man or for animals, on which
mankind feeds is a public enemy. He
whose wares poison the stomachs of pigs
or poultry, comes at last to poison our
selves, since we eat the flesh, the whole-some-iess
of which has been deteriorted
by improper food. We are not among
those who would needlessly aggravate
the severity of our criminal code, or im
part the spirit of Draco into our mild
juris prudence, but if there be one offence
which of all otht rs calls for condign, se
vere, and ignominious punishment, it is
that of the adultorator of food. He
scatters his poison broadcast, and sows
disease perhape death over the whole
face ot society.
Newspaper Advertisements.
Why is anything made public, but in
the belielf that it will be of interest to
others ' Why is it announced that Isaoo
and Bebecca were married on a certain
day last week, but on the supposition
that it will give you pleasure to know it'r
Bead in this light, the commonest adver
tisements which crowd our papers have
a kindly order about them, bay not with
a cynio sneer as though you were
doubtful whether there was anything
honest in the world when a storekeeper
advertises his wares, that it is all sheer
selfishness, for if it is pleasant for one to
announce a fresh supply of tallow and
wool, hardware, or muslins, is it not just
as pleasant for one who wishes to know
it ' Business advertisements ! Waste
paper ! You know not what vou sav.
Those ships which are to sail for every
harbor in the world ; those fabrics which
have arrived from every commercial
matt on the earth ; this iron from Bus-
sia, tea from China, cotton from Georgia,
sugar from Louisiana do they not
preach to us at the corners ot the streets,
at the entering of the gates, in our docks
and in custom-houses and exchanges,
sermons on the mutual dependence of
mankind r
.BEANS. Uharles JJ. Warner, in one
of his pleasant essays, speaking of beans
and their moral and eeathotio influence
on humanity, says : " Not to have baked
beans on Sunday is still, in some parts
of New England, a fracture of the twelfth
commandent. The bean figures largely
in the economy of the old Bay State,
It has its moral as well as its official uses,
It is given to the inmates of the State
prison at Charlestown, and-is made
moral test of charaoter. In the kitchen
I have seen rows of convicts seated at
the long table, sorting over the beans
tor next day s dinner throwing away
the black and imperfect ones. This is
the first step toward awakening in these
degraded beings the distinction between
good and bad. When they have learned
to sort out the bad beans, they have ta
ken one step in the formation ef a moral
character. So solicitous is this State of
the morals of all her children."
Jet daisies worn ia the hair are an in
dispensable adjunct to a fashionable
meurning toilette,
Texas Cattle Fever.
Our western exchanges have already
begun their periodical fusilade against
the transportation of Texas cattle across
their territory, upon the alleged ground
that the disease known as " Texas cattle
fever," follows in the wake of these
Texas cattle drovers. There are some
singular, if not suspicious facts con
nected with this tirade against the Texas
cattle in reference to the disease in ques
tion, a few of which we propose to no
tice in the interest of common justice.
It is a fact not generally known, per
haps, that Texas cattle do not have the
Texas cattle fever I and those who are
without interest in the matter cannot
regard it otherwise than a very singular
fact that Texas cattle imparl to the cattle
of Missouri and Illinois a disease which
they do not have.
During the late war large numbers of
Texas cattle were driven to and through
Louisiana .by the Confederate authori
ties for the use of the Confederate
forces at Vicksburg and Port Hudson.
These cattle were driven across the
country, herded on the range till re
quired, and many of them wintered in
the cane region of Eastern Louisiana!
where they had free and constant inter"
course with the native stock of the coun
try, and yet not a single case of Texas
cattle fover was ever developed from this
contact. The unsophisticated, who are
without interest in the matter, would
regard this as another singular fact.
But Louisiana cattle were not compe
ting with the Texas cattle in the beef
market, hence they obstinately refused
to contract any disease from them, and
they were particularly cautious not to
contract a disease which these Texas
cattle did not have.
Some four years ago an Arkansas cor
respondent of Colman's Rural World de
tailed the fact that " tho disease (Texas
cattle fever) commenced its ravages in
Arkansas in 1846, killing thousands of
cattle, while no srich thing was known
in Texas at that time. It continued to
rage for ten years, and disappeared about
the time Texas cattle were mirouuceu.
Now here is an array of facts adverse
to the theory that -Texas cattle imparts
this disease, that is worthy of considera
tion. And when we remember the ad
ditional fact that Texas cattle are formi
dable competitors of the cattle of Mis
souri and Illinois in the beef markets of
the North and East, make a case against
the assumptions of the interested parties
of the States named which will require
more conclusive proofs than have thus
far been adduced, to satisfy us that they
are justified in the unfriendly legislation
that has been enacted upon this subject
ornino
iof. fhn ipfprpsf, of the Texas cattle
raae.-
Sea Sickness.
A man who has been sick unto douth,
and vorv often, at sea. writes an account
of a reoent voyage to India, and how he
circumvented the attack :
My remedy was this : I did not, like
many sanguine passengers wno ieit bo
well and jolly with the sea-breeze and
still water, go down to dinner, but sat
quietly on deck till such time as I felt a
little hungry, and tnen weni uown vu
ray berth, had some toast, lying down,
though it was then rough and we were
in the open sea, and slept well during
the evening and througn tne mguK x
did not get up the next day, though I
felt quite well, but by the steward's fa
vor ate a good breaktast ana ainuer ly
ing in my berth. I arose on the third
morning, feeling perfectly well, and from
that day and all through my voyage, I
took my meals at table, ate heartily, bay
ing found, as I then believed, and still
am assured of, a perfect cure for sea- .
sickness. I may mention that fully one
third of the passengers were sick, and a
number did not make their appearance
at table till a day or two after me, and
I can only attribute my unwonted im
munity from this miserable complaint to
lying in my berth till such a time as my
system had become acoustomed to the
rolling and pitching motion.
Eusslan Superstitions. 1 ' '
Birth and death, as well as marriage,
the Greek Church invest, with symbols
and solemnities- When an infant is a
day old, a priest is summoned to give it
a name aud reads prayers for the re
covery of the mother. The calendar is
searched, and the name of some saint
chosen whose festival falls within the
week of the child's nativity ; at least
this is the proper and pious mode of
procedure. The one selected becomes
thenceforth the patron saint, the angel
of the boy or girl ; and the festival day
is his or her name s day, a day ior plea
sure and gifts and congratulations.
Thus the present Emperor bears the
name of St. Alexander Nevski, and his
name's day by our calendar, which is
twelve days in advance of the Bussian,
the 11th of September a day for illumi
nations and rejoicing throughout the
Empire. These days are begun by de
vout attendance on mass ; then an enter
tainment is provided for friends who, to
show their interest, drop in without
special invitation, and the evening is
concluded with mirth and dancing. In
a Bussian's eyes his angel is most pre
vious and potent; a sacred intelligence
watching over all his life, and waiting
to receive him when it is ended.
Lunacy. The Pall Mall Qazette tells
the following story : " The visiting
justices of a certain inland English coun
ty were inspecting a lunatic asylum. A
female patient handed to one of them a
paper to read in vindication of her sani
ty. After perusing a part of the docu
ment on the spot the justices put it aside
for the time being, coming to the con
clusion that the very phraseology of the
writer was conclusive proof of her lunacy.
Upon a subsequent and more careful
analysis of the petition it .was found
that the sentences which had so struck
the justices as conclusive of lunacy were
taken verbatim from a leading article in
the London Daily Telegraph." Whethe?
the above should be considered as true,
or merely a little editorial pleasantry, ia
a question left to readers to solve for
themselves.