NIL, DESPERANDUM.
Two Dollars por Annum.
NO. 42.
KIDGWAY, ELK COUNTY, PA,, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1876.
YOL. VI.
HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher.
The Farmer's Lesson.
If I had told ber in the spring
The old, old story, briefly,
When sparrow and robin begun to sing,
And the plowing was over, chiefly 1
But haste makes waste, and the story sweet,
I reasoned, will keep through the forcing, .
Till I drop the oorn, and plant the wheat,
And give th6m a obance for growing.
Had I even told the tale in June,
When the wind through the grass was blow
ing,
Instead of thinking it rather too soon,
And waiting till after tho mowing I
Or had I binted, ont under the stars,
That I knew a story worth bearing,
Lingering to put up the pasture bars,
Nor waited to do the shearing !
Now tho barn Ib fall, and so is the bin,
But I've grown wise without glory,
Since love is the orop not gathered in
Fcr my neighbor told her the ttory 1
Harper i Bazar.
The Peterkins' Christmas Tree.
Pretty early in the autumn tho Peter
kins began to prepare for tlieir (Jurist
xuas tree. Everything was done in
great privacy, as it was to be a surprise
to the noighbors, as well as to the rest
of tho family. JVlr. .Peterkin bad been
up to Mr. Bromwich's wood lot, and,
with bis consent, selected the tree,
Agamemnon went to look at it occa
sionally after dark, and Solomon John
made frecutent Visits to it. mornings,
i'nst after enurise. Mr. Peterkin drove
ilizabelh Elizi and her mother that
way, and poiuted furtively to it with his
whip, bat none of thern spoke of it aloud
to each other. It was suspected that
tho little boys had been to see it Wed
nesday and Saturday afternoons. But
they came homo with their pockets full
of chestnuts and Eaid nothing about it.
At length Mr. Peterkin had it cut
down and brought secretly into the Lar
kms' barn. A week or two before
Christmas a measurement was made of
it, with Elizabeth Eliza'sj-ard measure,
To Mr. Peterkiu's great dismay, it was
discovered that it was too high to stand
in the back parlor. ibis fact was
brought cut at a secret council of Mr,
nud Mrs. Piiterkiu, Elizabeth Eliza, aud
Againc-rcnou.
Agiimcr&nou miggested that it might
bo fiet up Elaiuiug, but Mrs. Peterkin
was very sure it would make her dizzy,
and the candles would anp.
But a brilliant i.iea c.inio to Mr. Peter
kin. Ha proposed that the ceiling of
the parlor thoukl be raised to make
room for tho top of the tiee.
Elizabeth Eliza thought the space
would need to be quite Lugo. It must
not be like a small box, or you could not
seo tho tree.
" Yrf," euid Mr. Peterkin, " I should
Lave the ceiling Lt'tod all across the
roon; tuo fll.int would lo liner.
Elizabeth Eiifca objected to bavirjp
tho whole ciillrg raised, becauso her
room vinn ov:v the b.ick parlor, aud Bho
would have no floor while the alteration
was going on. which would be very
awkward, iiesidee. tier room was riot
very high now, and if the floor were
rai:-ed, perhaps (dio could not walk in it
upright.
Mr. .foterkiu explained mat he didu t
roposo altering the whole ceiling, but
to lift up a ridge across tho room ut the
back part where tho tree was to stand
This would make a hump, to bo sura, iu
Elizabeth Elizi's room; but it would go
across the whole room.
Elizabeth Eliza said sho would not
mind that. It would be like the cuddy
thing that comes up on tho deck of a
ship, that you sit against, only horoyou
would not have tho seasickness. Sho
thought she should like it for a rarity.
Sho ruijht use it for a divan.
Mrs. Peterkin thought it would come
in the worn place of tho carpet, and
might bo a convenience in making tho
carpet over.
Agamennon was afraid there would be
trouble in keeping the matter secret, for
it would be a long piece of work for a
carpenter; but Mr. feterkm proposed
having the carpenter for a day or two,
for a number of other jobs.
Ono of them was to make all the chairs
in tho hou-e of the same height, for
Mrs. Peterkin bad nearly broken her
spine by sitting down in a chair that the
had supposed was her own rocking
chair, and it had proved to be two
inches lower. The little boys were now
largo enough to sit in any chair; so a
medium was fixed upon to' satisfy all the
family, and the chairs were made uni
formly of the same height.
Oa consulting the carpenter, however,
he insisted that thb tree could be cut off
at the lower end to suit the height of
the parlor, and demurred at so great a
change as altering the ceiling. But Mr.
Peterkin had set his mind upon the
improvement, and Elizabeth Eliza had
cut her carpet iu preparation for it.
So the folding doors into the back
parlor were closed, and for nearly a
fortnight before Christmas there was a
great litter of fallen plastering, and
Jaths, and chips, and shavings ; and
El'zaboth Elian's carpet was taken up,
aud the furniture had to bo changed,
and one night she had to sleep at "the
Bromwich's, for there was a long hole
in her floor that might bo dangerous.
All this delighted the little boys.
They could not understand what woe
going on. Perhaps they suspected a
Christmas tree, but they did not know
why a Christmas tree should have so
many chips, and were still more aston
ished at the hump that appeared in
Elizabeth Eliza's room. It must be a
Christmas presont, or eUe tho tree in a
box.
Some aunts and uncles, too. arrived a
ay or two before Christmas, with some
small cousins. These cousins occupied
the attention of the little boys, and
there was a great deal of whispering and
mystery, behind the doors, and under
the stairs, and in the corners of the
entry.
Solomon John was busy, privately,
making some candles for the tree. He
had been collecting some baybenies, as
he understood they made very nice can
dles, so that it would not be necessary
to buy any.
Ihe elders 'of the family never all
went into the back parlor together, and
U tried cot to see what was going on.
Mrs. Peterkin would go in with Solo
mon John, or Mr. Petorkin with Elian
beth Eliza, or Elizaboth Eliza and
Agamemnon and Solomon John. The
little boys and the small cousins were
never allowed even to look inside the
room. 1
Elizabeth Eliza mennwhilo went into
town a nnmber of times. She wanted
to consult Amanda ns to how much ice
cream they thould need, and whether
they conld make it at home, ns they had
cream and ice. She was pretty busy iu
her own room; the furniture had to bo
changed, aud the carpet altered. The
'hump" was higher than she had ex-
Eected. There was danger of bumping
er own head whenever she crossed it.
She had to nail some padding on the
ceiling for fear of accidents.
The afternoon before Christmas,
Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John and
their father collected in the baok' parlor
for a council. The carpenters had dono
their work, and the tree stood at its
full height at the back of the room, tho
top stretching up into the space ar
ranged for it. All the chips and shav
ings were cleared away, and it btood on
a neat box.
But what were they to put upon the
treof
Solomon John had brought in his
supply of candles, but they proved to
be very " stringy" nud very few of
them. It was strange how many bay
berries it took to make a few candles I
The little boys had helped him, and he
had gathered n much as a bushel of
bayberries. Ho had put them in water,
and Bkimmed off the wax, according to
the directions, but there was so little
wax I
Solomon John had given tho little
boys some of the bits sawed off from
the legs of the chairs. He had suggest
ed they should cover them with gilt
paper, to answer for gilt apples, without
telling them what they were for.
These apples, a little blunt at the end,
and the caudles, were all they had for
tho tree.
After all -her trips into town, Eliza
beth Eliza had forgotton to bring any
thing for it.
'I thought of candies and sugar
plums," she Biid, '." but I concluded if
wo made caramels ourselves we should
not need them. But, then, we have not
made caramels. The fact is, that day
my head was full of my carpet. I had
bumped it pretty badly, oo."
Mr. Peterkin wished he had taken.
instead of a fir tree, au apple tree he
had sen in October, full of red fruit.
"But the leaves would have fallen off
by this time." said Elizabeth Eliza.
" And the apples, too," said Solomon
John.
" It is odd I should have forgotten,
that day I went in on purpose to get the
things, said Elizabeth Jiiliza, musing
ly. " But 1 went .from shop to ehop,
aud didn't know exactly what to get. I
saw a great many gilt thiugs for Christ
mas trees, but I knew tho little boys
were makiug tho gilt apples; there were
plenty of candles in the shop, but 1
knew Solomon John was making the
candles.
Mr. Peterkin thought it was quite
natural.
Solomon John wondered if it were too
lata for them to go into town now.
Elizabeth Eliza could not go in the
next morning, f.r there was to be a
grand Christmas dinner, and Mr. .Feter-
kin could not ba spared, and Solomon
John was sure ha and Agamemnon would
not know what to buy. Besides, they
would want to try the caudles to night,
Mr. Peterkin asked if the presents
everybody hail been preparing would
not answer? But Elizabeth Eliza knew
they would be too heavy.
A gloom came over the room. There
was only a flickering gloom from one of
bolomou Johns candles that no had
lighted by way c f trial.
Solomon John again proposed going
into town. He lighted a match to ex
amine tho newspaper nbout the trams,
There were plenty of trnius coming out
at that hour, but none were going iu ex
cept a very late one. That would not
leave time to do anything and come
back.
" We could go in, Elizabeth Eliza
and I," said Solomon John, " but wo
should not have time to buy anything."
Agamemnon was summoned in. Mrs.
Peterkin was entertaining tho alleles and
aunts in the front parlor. Agcmemnon
wished there was time to study up some
thing about electric lights. If they
could only have a calcium light 1 Solo
mon John's caudle sputtered and went
not.
At this moment there was a loud
knocking at the front door. The little
boys, and the small contains, and the
uncles ond aunts, and Mrs. Peterkiu,
hastened to see what was the matter.
The uuctes and aunts thought some
body's house must be on fire. The door
was opened, and there was a mau, white
with flakes, for it was beginning to snow,
and ho was pulling in a largo box.
Mrs. IVtorkin supposed it contained
some of Elizabeth Eliza's purchases, so
sho ordered it to be pushed into the
back parlor, and hustily called back
her guests and the little boys into the
other room. The little boys and the
pmall cousins were sure they had 6een
Santa Clans himself.
Mr. Peterkin lighted the lamp. The
box was addressed to Elizabeth Eliza.
It was from the lady from Philadelphia !
She had gathered a hint from Elizabeth
Eliza's letter that there was to be a
Christmas tree, and had filled the box
with all that would bo needed.
It was opened directly. There wai
every kind of gilt hanging thing, from
gilt pea-pods to butterflies on springs.
There were shining nags and lanterns.
and bird cages, and nests with birds sit
ting on them, baskets of fruit, gilt
apples and bunches of grapes, and, at
the bottom of the whole, a large box
of candles and a box of Philadelphia
bonbons I
Elizabeth Eliza and Solomon John
could scarcely keep from screaming.
The little boys and the small cousins
knocked on the folding doors to ask
what was the matter.
Hastily Mr. Peterkin and the rest took
out the things and hung them on the
tree, and put on the candles.
When all was done, it looked bo veil
that Mr. Peterkin exclaimed :
"Let oa light the candles now, and
send to invite all the neighbors to-night,
and have the tree on Christmas eve.
And so it was that the Peterkins had
their Christmas tree the day before, and
on Christmas night could go and visit
their noighbors. St. Nicholat for De
cember, Philip Kolnn's Men.
The story of Philip Nolan and his
men, who went to Mexico in an early
day in tho history of this country, is
told in Scribner'a Monthly. From a
note to the history the following is in
teresting :
A regnlar trial was given to the men,
of which the proceedings are extant.
Don Pedro Ramos de Verea conducted
the defense. And the men were ac
quitted. The judge, do Navarro, or
dered their release January 23, 1804;
but Saleodo, alas I was then in command
of these provinces he countermanded
tho decree of acquittal, and sent the
papers to the king. The king, by a de
cree of February 23, 1807, ordered that
one out of five of Nolan's men should
bo hung, and the others keep nt hard
labor for ten years. Let it be observed
that this is the royal decree for ten men
who had been acqnited by the conrt
which tried them.
When the decree arrived in Chihua
hua, one of the ten prisoners, Pierce,
was dead. The new judge prononnced
that only one of the remaining nine
should suffer death, and Salcedo ap
proved this decision.
On the ninth of November, thereforo,
1807, the adjutant inspector, with de
Verea, the prisorei s' counsel, proceeded
to the barracks, where they were con
fined, and read the king's decision. A
drum, a glass tumbler, and two dice
were brought; the prisoners knelt before
the drum and were blindfolded.
Ephraim Blackburn, the oldest pris
oner, took the fatal glass and dice and
threw four; Lucian Garcia threw seven;
Joseph Beed threw eleven; David Fero
threw eight; Solomon Cooley threw
eleven; Jonah Tonyl Walters threw
seven; Charles King threw seven; Ellis
Been threw five; William Dowlin threw
six.
Poor Blackburn, having thrown the
lowest number, was hanged on the
eleventh of November.
Ellis Bean afterward distingnished
himself in the revolt against Spain,
which freed Mexico.
Of the end of the life of the other
prisoners, no account has been found.
People who ore fond of poetical jus
tice will be glad to know that Salasedo
was killed in the first effort for Texon
liberty in 1813. But so, alas 1 was ller
rora. Frail Beauties.
A Wisconsin lady writes to the
Woman's Journal as follows : Tho fact
is that the young American girls are al
most nil delicate ; many are confirmed
invalids ; ro&rj j aro d.yiug iu their first
bloom every year. For myself, I have
known, within tho last five or six years,
in a little village of 2,000 inhabitants in
Wisconsin, a dozen young ladies who
have died. They have nearly nil died
of anemia, consumption, spinal menin
gitis, and similar diseases. Two were
married and died within the year. But
one or two of the number had received
anything more than a common school
education. One or two were seam
stresses, and one or two were farmers'
daughters. None of them had led a life
of fashionable dissipation. I know an
other dozen to-day who aro hopeless in
valids. School causes would seem to
have more to do with the ill health of
these. One, lying now at tho point of
death, is a graduato of a female semi
nary, and has never known a well day
since her graduation. Perhaps you will
not wondor at this when I tell you that
for the last term that she was in school
she was not able to study, and prepared
nil her lessons in bed. Do you not
think missionaries should be abroad in
Wisconsin, with a speoial message to
the heads of female seminaries ? Four
or five of those invalids came of the
same school, but none of the others
graduated. Two have spinal diseases,
two comsnmption, and seveial of tho
others uterine diseases in one form or
another.
. Injustice in the British Army.
Col. Shaw, the officer in command
of a depot brigade, in Eugland, has just
had to adjudicate in a novel dispute be
tween one of the subaltern officers of
his brigade and a gunner, who was em
ployed as the said officer's regimental
servant. The latter applied to Mr.
Balguy, at Woolwich police court, for
advice, saying that his master, who
had lost his umbrella from his quarters;
insisted on holding him responsible.
This he felt to be a disgrace to him and
his family, and, hoping that his long
service and good conduct would entitle
him to consideration, he appealed to the
major or nis uattery for redress. The
major, however, took the rarb of the
officer, and not only treated the appli
cant as a thief, but stopped twenty-rive
shillings from his pay and gave it to the
officer as compensation for his lost um
brella. Mr. Bulguy sympathized with
the applicant, but would not advise him
to take proceedings against his officer,
lest the proceeding might eavor of in
subordination. He recommcrded him
to lay the case before the commanding
officer of his brigade, and this having
been done the major of the battery has
been ordered to repay the money de
ouotea, ana uotn he ana the man s
master have been reproved for the pro
ceeding, it being a rule of the service
that no soldier shall be punished until
ne is formally charged and convicted.
Ihe Population of India.
It is stated in the statistical abstract
reluting to British India, just published,
that the total population of British
India at the date of the lost census was
189,613,238, and the area under British
administration 897,001 square miles.
The density of tin population to the
square mile was 2,011. The native
States have an area of 689,315 square
miles, with a population of 50,825,457.
Tho French possessions have an area of
196 square miles, with a population of
259,981. The Portuguese possessions
are 1,610 square miles, and the popula
tion amounts to 627,517. The total area
of India is 1,488,125 square miles, with
a population of 246,726,103.
TOUR CHRISTMAS DONER.
flints for It Selection and Hew to Cook It,
Oyster Sour. Put into a stewpan the
licraor from nine dozen oysters. When
hot put in the oysters to scald but not
boil ; straiu the liquor : add three pints
of water, and simmer for half an hour.
In the meanwhile dissolve half an onnce
of gellntine in three pints of boiling
water ; after again straining the oyster
liquor, add tho melted gellntine, with
salt, cayenne Bnd mace, to taste ; bring,
it to a boil and add three tablespoonfnls
of butter rubbed in with one and one-half
tablespoonfuls of flour, simmer for five
minutes, then stir in rapidly one pint
and a half of boiling cream (sweet) or
good, new milk; pour the whole over
the oysters in the tureen ana serve.
Boast Tcbkey. Afterplnckiug.singe
ing, etc., cut off the neck close to the
back, but leave enough of the orop skin
to turn over; break the leg bone close
below the knee, draw out the strings
from the thighs, nnd flatten the breast
bone to make it look plump. Have
ready a stuffing, and having filled the
breast and inside with this, draw the
skin together with a trussing needle,
sewing the skin of the neck over upon
the back. (These threads should be
carefully removed before bringing tho
bird to the table.) Lay the points of
the wings under the back, and fasten in
that position with a skewer run through
both wings. Press the legs as closely
toward the breast and side bones as pos
sible and fasten with a skewer run
through the body and both thighs. Bake
in a steadily hot but not burning oven,
From two and one-half to three hours
will be required for a large tnrkey.
Baste from time to time with butter.
Boil until very tender the gizzard,
heart, liver and neck of the turkey in
water enough to cover them. When
done save the liver for the gravy, and
mince finely the soft parts of the giz
zard, etc., with a quart of dried bread
crumbs, and add the water in which the
gibleti were boiled; season with salt,
popper, thyme, sweet majoriam, and a
littie grated celery root. Mix thorough
ly, and bind the wholo together with
three well beaten eggs. .
Gravy for the Turkey. Take one
pint of brown soup stock, or tho juice
from the dish in which the turkey was
baked, one small onion, half teaspoon
f ul of salt and a littlo pepper, and sim
mer gently until the onion is dono ;
then add the liver either minced very
finely or rubbed to a paste, and having
mixed a teaspoonful of arrow root with
a littlo cold water, pour it into the
gravy, which keep stirring. Then add
a little Worcestershire sauce, let it boil
once and pour it into tho gravy tureen.
Chicken Pib. Take from four to six
young chickens, according to the size of
the baking dish, to. be filled, cut them
np into joints and put in a stewpan
with hot water enough to cover them,
au onion, if liked, a bunch of savory
herbs, end a blade of mace. Line
the sides of a deep earthen baking dish
with a rich paste rolled quite thick.
When tho chickens are about half done
tako them from the stewpan, and lay in
the baking diuh with n few slices of
very nice pork, six or eight hard boiled
egg's, cut iu rings, and a little of the
water in which the chickens were cooked.
When the dish is full cover with a rich
and light puff paste rolled thick A hole
should be left in the center of tho top,
which can bo covered with an ornament
of paste. Bake from one to one and a
half hours. When abont half done lay
a paper over the top to keep from burn
ing. For the gravy rub one tablespoon
f ul of flour with two ditto of butter ;
when smooth put hi a saucepan aud por.r
on tho rest of tho water in which tho
chickens wero cooked, stir one way over
the fire till smooth. When the pie is
done, remove the ornament from the
center, pour in the gravy and replace.
Pastkt Sandwiches. Good whole
some ones are thus prepared: Boll good
paste quite thin, and lay on a baking
sheet or tin; spread on the paste apricot,
greengage, or any preserve preferred;
lay over this another thin paste, press
together at the edges and mark the
paste in diagonal lines with a knife, to
show where to cut it when baked ; a
short time before it is done remove from
the oven, brush over with the white of
an egg, into which sift sugar, nnd put
back into the oven to color; when cold
cut into diamonds, pile pyramid ically,
and serve hot or cold.
Cranberries should be put on the
fire with water enough to cover them,
with a pound of sugar to ono of fruit ;
simmer slowly until the whole is re
duced to a jelly-like mass ; press into
molds which have been dipped in water.
When cold turn ont on flat plates or
jelly stands.
Apple Custard Tabts. Peel, core
and stem Spitzenburg or Greening apples
till they can be passed through a sieve:
to one pound sifted apple add n quarter
pound of butter rubbed with one pound
of powdered sugar, the grated rind of a
lemon, aud one grated nutmeg ; beat se
parately the yolks and whites of eggs;
stir in with sugar, etc., oue quart of
sweet cream, and add to the whole the
beaten eggs ; beat well together and
pour into pie plates bordered or lined
with puff paste; bke in a moderate oven
until the custard has " set."
Pumpkin Pies. Stew a good sweet
pumpkin in water enough to keep from
burning until it can be passed through
a 6ieve ; add three pints of sweet cream
and nine beaten eggs, with sugar, mace,
nutmeg; and ginger, or grated lemon
rind enough to taste; border or line pie
plates with a nice paste and fill with the
mixture; bake in a moderate oven for
three-quarters of an hour,
.Connecticut Indian Pudding. Scald
three pints ol new niiik, and while hot
stir in seven tablespoonfuU of fine In
dian meal; let it stand till cool, and then
add a halt pound of stoned raisins, four
ounces of batter, spice and sugar to
taste, and seven well beaten eggs ; beat
all together, ponr in a deep baking dish,
and bake in a moderate oven one and a
half hoars.
One of the discoveries made by the
latest Arotio explorers is that the length
of the polar night is one hundred and
forty-two days. What a heavenly place
that would bo in which to tell a man
with a bill to call around day after to
morrow and get bis money, j
The," Enoch Arden w Business.
When Mr. Tennyson wrote that popu
lar poem "Enooh Arden," he probably
meant well enough, but he ought to
have foreseen the inevitable conse
quences of his act. From that day to
this no husband has over returned home
from a temporary absence and found
his wife in the possession of a substitute
without having his domcstio difficulties
Carnded in the local newspapers, and
imself desoribed as "another Enoch
Arderu" In this country, especially,
the annual crop of Enoch Ardens has
been enormous. A vast procession of
wandering husbands is continually
winding its way homeward from the
West to Eastern hearthstones, where
other and superfluous husbands are
comfortably trespassing. Ono would
naturally think that no really chivalrio
husband, after going alone to California
and residing for a dozen years m a land
flowing with bowieknives and revolvers,
without once writing to his deserted
wife, would dream of returning home
to earn the title of "another Enooh
Arden." Yet the wandering American
husband always conies back at last. He
may be cost upon the waters in a steam
ship, but instead of being drowned or
buried he is sure to return after many
year.". And when he does return, so
potent is the influence of Mr. Tenny
son's preposterous teachings upon him
that he always tries to surpass the
original Enoch Arden in unprofitable
idiocy.
It will be remembered that Mr. Tenny
son's hero, after spending several years
on a lonely island, in the unworthy oc
cupation of writing doleful blank verse
to tho grieved but patient monkeys,
finally took passage for England, nnd
returned to the cottage where he had
left his wife. Most men in his circum
ctances would have gone boldly to the
front door, and, after tenderly embrac
ing their wives, would have asked where
on earth their clippers had been hidden,
nnd whether they were ever to have any
supper. Arden, however, preferred to
look through the dining-room windows,
nnd to gaze upon the apparent felicity
of his wife's new husbaud, and to make
a rongh estimate of the number of new
children who infested tho house. After
this disreputable proceeding he with
drew from the window, rolled on the
vegetables in tho back garden, nnd
finally went away to a cheap boarding
house, where ha died, after having told
his landlady his true name, and thus
made it certain that his wife's matri
monial mistake would become the theme
of universal gossip.
Dickens' Prisoner.
Diokens's famous prisoner, after serv
ing nine terms in tho penitentiary, stole
an overcoat and is now a candidate for
the tenth term. When Mr. Dickens
was in Philadelphia thirty years ago,
Langheimer was in the penitentiary and
the novelist saw him there and went into
a paroxysm of grief over " a system
rigid, strict and wrong." I't'cfe
"American Notes :" " In another cell
was a German, sentenced to five yeais'
imprisonment for larceny, two of which
had just expired. He had laid out the
few feet of ground behind his cell with
exquisite neatness, and had made a lit
tle flower bed in the center, that looked,
by-tho-bye, like a grave. And jet a
moro dejected, heattbroken, wretched
creature it would be diffiault to imagine.
I never saw such a picture of forlorn
affliction and distress of mind. My
heart bled for him, and when the tears
ran down his cheeks and he took one of
the visitors aside to ask, with his trem
bling hands nervously clutching at his
coat to detain him, whether there was no
hope of his dismal sentenco being com
muted, tho spectacle was really too
painful to witness." This man is now
about seventy-four years old, but docs
not look more than sixty-five. His eyes,
light blue or gray, are dull and express
ionless, nnd his square cut, unintellee
tual face, covered with thick grizzly
hair, presents a picture which is any
thing but pleasing.
Iloue&ty.
Everybody says that everybody should
be honest; but everybody is not honest
either nt home or abroad. That we
should be honest in our trade, weights
and measures, dealing honest with our
noighbors aud strangers is clearly
right. That a strong principle of in
tegrity should govern us, is just what
every man not only admits but believes
and contends for. There is no such
thing as being too honest. Honesty is
a virtue better than gold, richer than
rubies, more precious than gems and
costly trappings. It is a much richer
adornment for manhood orwomanhood
than wealth can purchase or place se
cure. To bo honest is to be like a child
and an angel, and Christ eaid of little
children "of euch is the kingdom of
heaven." But we wish to write a word
a strong word in behalf of honesty.
There are many people who are honest
away from home. They mako home
Eromises only to break them. As hus
auds they make a thousand and one
promises to their wives, nud hint a thou
sand good things and raiso many pleas
ant expectations they never seem to
think of again. As wives they practice
a thousand littlo deceit:, equivocate
many times, when straightforward hon
esty was just the thing required. As
parents they conoenl, go mound the
truth, deceive aud often fulsify to their
children, when the truth is always bet
ter always the best. The children soe
their parents' donblo dealings, see their
want of integrity, and learn to cheat,
deceive aud equivocate. The child is
too often a chip of the old block.
A Fair Count.
A gentleman in Cincinnati, who has a
newly married son residing in Boston,
received the following telegran :
" JJeab Ivatheb Maria gave birth to
twins this morning. All welL John."
Kepiy:
" To John Dear Son : I congratu
late you. ' Give us rfair count.'
"JTATHEB."
What it Cost. It cost Col. Kane
$5,254 to run bis Pel ham coach from
New York to New Bochelle, and the
reoeipts were $5,472. This is cheaper
amusement than sailing a yacht.
"HIE BOYS OF Mr BOYHOOD.".
A Poet'. RemlnLccnrea of his Yonth tn
Told by William Cnllen Bryant In "Ht,
Nicholas.'
One of the entertainments of the boys
of my time was . what were called the
" raisings," meaning the erection of
the timber frames of houses or barns,
to which the boards were to be after
ward nailed. Here the minister made a
point of being present, and hither the
able bodied men of the neighborhood,
the young men especially, were sum
moned, aud took part in the work with
ereat alacrity. It was a spectacle for
us next to that of a performer on the
tight rope, to see the young men walk
steadily on the narrow footing of the
beams at a great height from the
ground, or as they stood to catch in
their hands the wooden pins and the
braces flung to them from below. They
vied with each other in the dexterity
and daring with which they went
through with the work, and when the
skeleton of the building was put to
gether, some one among them generally
capped the climax of fearless activity by
standing on the ridgepolo with his head
downward and his heels in the air, At
that time, even the presence of the
minister wis no restraint upon the flow
of milk punch and grog, which in some
cases was taken to excess. Tho practice
of calling the neighbors to these "rais
ings" is now discontinued in the rural
neighborhoods; the carpenters provide
their own workmen for the business of
adjusting the timbers of the new build
ing to each other, and there is no con
sumption of grog.
Another of the entertainments of rus
tic life in tho region of which I am
speaking was the making of maple
sugar. This was a favorite frolic of tho
boys. The apparatus for the sugar camp
was of a much ruder kind than is now
used. '1 ho sap was brought in buckets
from the wounded trees and poured into
a great caldron which hung over a hot
fire from a stout 'horizontal -pole sup
ported at each end by an upright stake
planted in the ground. Since that time
they have built in every maple grove a
sugar house a little building in which
the process of making sugar is carried
on with several ingenious contrivances
unknown at that time, when everything
was done in the open air.
From my father's door, in the latter
part of March and the early part of
April, wo oould see perhaps a dozen col
umns of smoke rising over the woods in
different places whero the work was
going on. After the sap had been col
lected and boiled for three or four days,
the time came when tho thickening
liquid was made to pass into the form
of sugar. This was when the syrup had
become of such a consistency that it
would "feather" that is to say, when
a beechen twig, formed at the small end
into a little loop, dipped into the hot
syrup and blown upon by the breath,
sent into the air a light, feathery film.
The huge caldron was then lifted from
tho fire, and its contents were either
dipped out nnd poured into molds or
stirred briskly till the syrup cooled nnd
took the form of ordinary brown sugar
iu loose grains. This process was ex
ceedingly interesting to the boys who
came to watch its different stages and to
try from time to time the syrnp as it
thickened.
In autumn, the task of shipping the
husks from the ears of Indian corn was
made the occasion of social meetings, in
which the boys took a speoial part. A
farmer would appoint what was called
"a husking," to which ho invited his
neighbors. The enrs of maize in the
husk, sometimes along with p;rt of the
stalk, were heaped on the barn floor.
In the evening lanterns were brought,
and seated oi. piles of dry bucks, the
men and boys stripped the ears of their
covering, and breaking them from the
stem with a sudden jerk, threw them
into baskets placed for the purpose. It
was often a merry timo ; the gossip of
the neighborhood was talked over,
stories were told, jests went round, and
at the proper hour the assembly ad
journed to the dwelling house and were
treated to a pumpkin pie and cider,
which in that season had not been so
long from the press as to have parted
with its sweetness.
Quite as cheerful were the "apple
parings," which on autuiun evenings
brought together 'the young people of
both sexes in little circles. The fruit of
the orchards was pared and quartered
and the core extracted, and a supply of
apples in this state provided for making
what was called "apple sauce," a kind
of preserve of which every family laid in
a large quantity every year.
The cider making season in autumn
was, at tho time of which I am speaking,
somewhat correspondent to the vintage
in the wine oouutries of Europe Large
tracts of land in New Eugland were
overshadowed by rows of apple trees,
and in the month of May a journey
through that region was a journey
through a wilderness of bloom. In the
mouth of October the whole population
was bnsy gathering apples under the
trees, from which they fell in heavy
showers as the branohes were shaken by
the strong arms of the farmers. The
creak of the cider mill, turned by a
horfce nioviug in a cirelo, was heard in
every neighborhood as one of the most
common of rural sounds. The freshly
pressed uice of the apples was most
agr enable- to boyish tastes, and the
whole process of gathering the fruit and
making the cider came in among the
more laborious rural occupations in a
way which diversified them pleasantly,
and whioh made it seem a pastime. The
time that was given to making cider, and
the number of barrels made and stored
in the cellars of the farmhouses, would
now seem incredible. A hundred bar
rels to a single furm was no uncommon
proportion, and the quantity swallowed
by the men of that day, led to the habits
of intemperance which at length alarmed
the more thoughtful part of the com
munity, and gave oo.afeiou to the forma
tion of temperance societies and the in
troduction of better habits.
From time to time, the winter even
ings, and occasionally a winter after
noon, brought the young people of the
parish together in attendance upon a
singing school. Some person who pos
sessed more than common - power of
voice and skill in modulating it, was
employed to teach psalmody, and the
beys were naturally attracted to his
school aa a recreation. It often hap
pened that the teacher was an enthusiast
in his vocation, and thundered forth'the .
airs sot down in the musio books with,
a fervor that was contagious. A few of
those who attempted to learn psalmody
were told that they had no aptitude for
the art, and were set aside, but that did
not prevent their attendance as hearers
of others. In thoso days a set of tunes
were in fashion mostly of New England
origin, whioh have since been laid
aside in obediencs to a moro fastidious
taste. They wero in quick time, sharp
ly accented, tho words clearly articulat
ed, and often running into fugues in
which the bass, the tenor, nnd the
treble chased each other from the mid
dle to the end of the stanza. I recol
lect that some impatience was mani
fested when slower and graver airs of
church musio wero introduced by the
choir, and I wondered why the words
should not be sung in the same time
that they were pronounced in reading.
The Marriage of Tweed's Daughter.
The papers are publishing incidents
in the lifo of Tweed during his brilliant
career iu New York, nnd among these
they give the notable marriage of his
daughter. The acme cf Tweed's social
splendor was reached on the occasion
of tho marriage of his daughter. This
was seized by all of Tweed's friends,
followers and satellites, as well as by
other prominent men who had to con
ciliate the great man, as a welcome op
portunity to testify their regard. The
marriage took place at Trinity chapel,
and one report says : " The aisles along
the floor were crowded with fashionable
ladies aglow with rich silks and satics
and flashing with diamonds. These
were all in full dress, and tho contusion
of white arms and shoulders, elegant
laoes and valuable jewelry was poifectly
bewildering I" " After the ceremony
all the invited guests entered their car
riages to the musio of selections from
the Prophete,' and were driven up to
tho residence of the bride's father, on
the corner of Fifth avenue and Forty
third street. The whole avenue was
thronged with liveried turnouts.
The house, from basement to roof, was
one blaze of light. The fountain at the
side played merrily in the twilight, nnd
the flowers in the garden diffused a
delicate perfume on the night air. An
immense crowd blocked up both sides
of the awniug for the purpose of catch
ing a glimpse of the guests passing in,
and it was with difficulty that a strong
force of policemen could keep them in
or del. .
Inside the coup d'ceil was simply
gorgeous. From tout to hallway the
interior of the house was one mass of
flowers "all from my own place at
Greenwich," said Mr. Tweed to the re
porter, with honest pride. The central
chandelier was perfectly entwined with
roses. Over the two entrances to the
parlor on the loft were solid pillars of
flowers, from which hung a ten-pointed
star and a large bell, all of white and
red pinks." Tho description continues
iu tho same strain, and to judge from it
the house must have been literally
smothered in the most beautiful floral
ornaments. The banquet, which is de
scribed as gorgeous, was by Dehnonico,
and then comes a long list of presents,
estimated at 500,000. Laces, tur
quoises, pearls, diamonds, gold, silver
and everything else of value reposed iu
satin or velvet on every Bide, vieing with
each other in brilliancy and beauty.
Among this magnificent array of pres
ents were gifts from Mr. nud Mrs.
Tweed, a black walnut chest, lined with
blue satin and velvet, with five drawers,
containing three hundred pieces of
solid silverware; also another chest with
a complete silver tea set, solid waiter,
tea kettle and coffee urn; a pair of yel
low gold band bracelets, with fine cop
per colored festoons, each festoou being
ornamented with a large diamond, etc.
Then came the troubles and downfall
of the ring, Tweed's arrest and trial, his
sentence to the penitentiary for twelve
years, the releise on points of law, the
civil suits, the escape from jail, a dash
for liberty to Cuba all to be ended by
recapture and return to durance vile.
A Touchlug Story.
The following touching story is from
the pen of an English officer now serv
ing in the Turkish army, aud represents
a scene he witnessed after one of tho
most severe conflicts of the Servo-Turkish
campaign :
Not far away lay the body of another
officer, his right hand pressed on his
breast, where the splinter of a shell had
hit him, and grasping a piece of paper.
A strong man, he appeared to have
struggled long with death; his face,
which had the unmistakable BiiEieiau
type, wan distorted with pain. It was
with difficulty that the paper was ro
moved from his hand. ft was a letter
without any date, in Cyrillic writiug, and
evidently from a child's hand. Colonel
Mehmca, who was once in the Russian
service (ho is a Circassian, from Daghes
tan, subjected by P.u-f-ia more than fifty
years ago), and understands Russian,
translated the letter into Turkish, and
then one of onr CosBucks, a Pole, who
had been brought up in France, gave
me tho contents in French, as follows :
Dearest father Be good enough,
dearest father, to come back from the
war. Since you have been away, moth
er weeps continually, and she dreams
every night that thou liest dead under a
tree. Come to us, dear futher, for
mother has become so pale and is al
ways crying. I am very good, so that
she may not cry still more, and when
thou comest baek will remain good, and
never be naughty again. But thou must
come soon, father, and must kiss moth
er, that she may become red again, and
always kits thy little Miuka."
"Wag Not There.
M. G. Valbert, in the Revue dea Deux
Mondes, tells a good btory of Dr.
Strousberg, the fallen financier recently
brought to justice in Moscow. Iu the
days of his glory at Berlin, when he
had built a magnificent railway station
for the Oottbus line, he had invited all
the leading people of the court and the
army to a grand banquet. They all
came and found a superb entertainment
bi t no Dr. Strousberg. He had not
dared to invite himself to meet such a
fine company I -