V 1 L f h HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher. NIL DESPERANDUM. Two Dollars per Annum. NO. 22. 5 VOL. VII. RIDGWAY, ELK COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 1877. rs I . I TJie Farmer's Wire. The farmer camo In from tbe Hold 0110 day 1 ; His languid stop and Lis wenry way, Ilia bended brow, hi sinewy hand, Ail showed hia work for the good of the land ) For he sows, And he hoea, And he mows, All for the good of tho land. liy the kitchen lire stood his patient wife, 1 Light of hia home and joy of hia life, With face all aftlow and bnay hand, Preparing the meal for her husband' band, For she must boil, And she must broil, And she must toil, All for the good of tbe home. The bright sun shines when the farmer goes out ; The birds sing sweet songs, lambB frisk about ; The brook babbies softly in the glen While he works so bravely for the good of men; For he sows, And he mows, And he hoes. All for the good of the land. How briskly tho wife steps about within, The dishes to wash, the milk to skim 1 The Arc goes out, the flies buzz about For tho dear ones at home her heart is kept stout ; There are pies to make, There is bread to bake, And stops to take ' All for the sake of home. When the day is o'er, and the evening is come, The creatures are fed, the milking done, He takes his rest 'neath the old shade tree. From the labor of the land his thoughts are free ; Though he sows, And he hoes, And he mows, He rests from the work of the land. ut the faithful wife, from sun to sun, Makes her burden up that's never done ; There is no rest, there is 1.0 play, For the good of the house she must work away; For to mend the frock, And to knit the sock, And the cradle to rock, All for the good of the home. When autumn is here, with its chilling blast, The farmer gathers his crop at last ; His barns are full, his fields are bare ; For the good of the land he ne'er hath care, While it bluws, And it snows, Till winter goes, Ho rests from the work of the liuiJ. But the willing wife, till life's dosing day, Is the children's guide, the husband's stay ; From day to day she has done her best, Until death alone cau give her rest ; For after the test Comes the rest, With the blest, la the farmer's heavenly home. Christian Union. (ELECTOR'S STORY. Good-bye, dear," I said, after I had put on my coat and gathered up the reins. She took hold of my wrist and detain ed me. " Wait a moment, John." Then she called to Mack, my great Newfoundland dog, and he came out of the house, and, at a motion from her, jumped into the sleigh and curled him self at my feet. He was a noble fellow, my brave Mack. I really think there never was such another dog. I had brought him all the way from New Hampshire, and we had grown to feel perfectly secure in the house with him, so watchful and faithful was the noble dog; but it never occurred to me to take him on 'this trip, in a sleigh. "Belle," I said, "you are a silly girl. The dng will only be a botheration to me, and ten to one you'll want him here before I get back. " Now, John, please do take him for me ! Please do take him, John take him, just because your silly little wife is afraid to have you go without him." Of course the girl had her way. I was never able to understand how a man can resist this kind of persuasion. I never could, and never expect to. So I kissed her and chirruped to Chevalier, and he bounded away through the set tlement like an arrow. it was the dead of winter and an unusually heavy snow had fallen, filling in the roadway to the depth of four feet. Ill ore had been travel enough to pack it hard, so that I found the sleighing ex cellent. Chevalier's hoofs glanced nimbly over the snow, and in two hours I had made more than twenty miles, and had reached the substantial log-cabin of one of our best and most intelligent cus tomers. Ho received me with a hearty welcome, and when I told him what my mission was, lie invited me to make his cabin my headquarters while I remained in the neighborhood. I thankfully ac cepted the invitation, stayed all night, and tho next morning, under the guid ance of Dick, my host's youngest son, a clever boy of about thirteeu, I started out to make my first experiment in col lecting. It does not concern my story to describe everything that happened to mo during my stay with our friend, which lasted rather more than a week. When I began to realize that I had collected about as much money as my employer expected from this trip, I sat down to count it up. I had been out all day, and it was now just at the edge of the evening. Supper was almost ready, and I made up. my mind that if my portmanteau contained as much as I thought, I would only wait to appease my hunger before returning to the settle ment. I poured out the money on the floor, and counted it. It was all in gold and silver, for bank-notes would have been 'despised among us then, and there was the sum of eleven hundred and seventy-three dollars. They were all sorry to have me go, and made me promise to come again and bring my wife before the winter was gone. I put on my coat and muffled up my ears, and started. The sleighing was still exoellent the pight was dear and cold, find tbe full moon mndo it as bright ns day. We skimmed along for a mile or two, my thoughts all the time on Belle and the happy meeting we would have in a little time, when the extraordiuary conduct of Mack attracted my attention. He had been lying quietly at my feet, with the rug which enveloped them also covering him. He suddenly shook it off, growled savagely, and began to smell around the bottom of the sleigh. Had it been summer time, I really be lieve I should have thought the animal was going mad. Never before did I see him behave thus j and his conduct troubled me so that I shouted to Cheva lier, and we skimmed away faster. About sixty rods ahead I saw a tall, blasted tree, which I had been told was half way from the settlement to Mr. Selkirk's, find, pulling my watch to observe the time, I saw to my surprise that I had been an hour and three-quarters coming twelve miles. I think I was never so as tonished in my life. The capacities ef Chevalier were so well known to me, and I was so sure that his ordinary gait, with out the frequent urging I had given him, would carry Mack and me a mile in six minuted, mile after mile, that I could not comprehend that he had been .so slow, while apparently traveling fast. I called to him again, and he stepped off smart ly ; the dog growled, and, I am heortly ashamed to say it, I kicked him hard in my unreasonable angei. J had cause to repent of those kicks before another ten minutes had gone. I passed the blasted tree, and entered upon the last half of the way. Before me now.lay a long, level stretch of road, without an obstruction or turn for sev eral miles, and one dazzling white surface of snow upon it. I looked out ahead, and just as far as I could see to distin guish anything from the snow, probably not less than a mile away, I saw a black speck. It did not hold my attention when I first saw it; but as Chevalier sped on, rapidly devouring the distance, it took form and size, until when within thiity rods of it, I could plainly see that it was a man. There he stood, upright in the middle of the road, without speech or motion, apparently waiting I Was he waiting for me ? Did he know that I was coming with eleven hundred dollars in cash in a portmanteau at my feet? And, if so-, what would he "o? For the first time since my absence from the settlement I began to feel nervous, and rnought it would only be safe to take out my pistols and have them ready. I felt in my rieht-hand overcoat pocket, and found nothing; I felt in the left one, and found nothing. They had both been removed, and at Selkirk's. . J was certain I had them when I returned there at night. A horrible suspicion of intended mur der and robbery flashed upon me; and here I was stripped of my weapons and defenseless. The horse was now within four rods of the motionless figure in the road, and bearing down rapidly upon him, and with the desperate idea of run ning over him, I shouted to Chevalier, and lashed him with the ends of the reins. He bounded like a bolt up to the man stopped in his fright, swerved, and was instantly seized by the bit, and his head brought down by the powerful ruffian. Before I had time to think, there was a shout, which I distinctly heard: "Your money, quick 1" and then came two pis tol shots, in such rapid succession that I could not have counted two between them. One ball passed through my hat, as I afterward discovered, within an inch of my head; the other went between my right arm and my body, cutting the skin in its passage. Almost at the instant Mack gave a ferocious growl, and dove under the seat upon which I was sitting. I heard him snapping and growling, and heard a human voice, half-suffocated trying to say: " Oh, God ! Oh, God !" and then I thoroughly realized the situ ation. The man who had stopped me was struggling with Chevalier, despe rately striving to keep his head down, when a happy thought came to my de liverance, and I quickly jerked the lines, one after the other. Quick as thought the noble brute broke away from the ruffian's grasp, and roared straight up in the air above his head, coming down again instantly. I saw that the man was lying motionless beneath Chevalier's hoofs, and, at a word from me, the ani mal flew onward, while I lashed him into greater speed. The growls of Mack underneath me had ceased, as well as the cries of the miserable being who was suffering in his jaws; and in a few mo ments the glorious dog came out again and put his bloody paws on my knees, while he whined as if requesting some recognition of what he had done. I was terribly excited I could not help it; the awful trial I had just passed through was enough to work upon stronger nerves than mine; but I put my arm around the noble fellow's neck, and hugged him as if he had been a woman. The last half of the way was passed rather quicker than the first, and the gallant Chevalier was covered with sweat when he stopped at the door of my employer's house. I tumbled in upon my wife and her parents sitting around the lire, and I was just about speechless from cold and the reaction of my excitement. I found voice after a while to say that I wasn't hurt at all, and to ask my father-in-law to look under the seat of the sleigh. What he found there all of you know by this time. The man was stone dead, Mack's teeth having torn and mangled his neck frightfully. Selkirk came to the settlement the next day, and with his help the web of villany as completely unraveled. Both men had been at his house the afternoon previous to my re turn, but had left about an hour before I came. Both might easily know that I had a large sum of money with me, for no secret had been made of my business, and it had been talked over in their hearing. After talking with Mr. Selkirk, I remembered for the first time that I had left my overcoat in the sleigh after coming back to the house that afternoon. Here, then, was the opportunity which the intended robbers and murderers em braced to steal mv pistols, and for one of them to secrete himself under the sleigh-seat. In the woods, near the scene of the encounter, Mr. Selkirk found one of their horses, saddled and bridled, and hitched to a tree; and he . ....... m 1 nod no doubt that it uaa ueen naaen there that evening by tbe man whom CheveOler killed, . " Silent Americans Abroad. A London letter writer says: Ex President Grant astonishes some of his English friends by his silence. Ameri cans have generally plenty to say for themselves. As a rule they are ready after-dinner speakers. Two great ex cept! .ns may now be recorded in Lon don's experience of famous Americans. When Longfellow visited London, a dinner was given to him at the Langham Hotel. The poet having made some ob jection to lip glorification, and it being understood that he would like the com pliment intended to be paid to him all the better if there wore no speeches, it was arranged that this dinner should be unlike the usual semi-public banquet, inasmuch as there should be no address es and no proposing of toasts. There were many distinguished guests present. They were each in turn presented to Longfellow. Then came the dinner. It was excellent. A bright and general conversation had sprung up, untram melled by this man's fear that he would have to speak on nis legs and the other man's fenr that he would not. But there was a well known old gentleman at the table for whom this scene of contentment had no pttractious. Mr. S. C. Hall, known better by the men he has met than on his own account, and still more widely known as the husband of Mrs. S. C. Hall, suddenly rose in the midst of this happy throng, and, thundering on the table, began to speak. He would not be put down. Yes, he knew what the agreement was, but he also knew that at their board sat the most eloquent of Englishmen, and he called upon Mr. Gladstone to say a few words in honor of the greatest American poet. Mr. Hall had done his ruthless work well. He sat down amid a loud cheer, and presently Mr. Gladstone rose to still louder plaudits. The orator himself was taken aback, but he was equal to the oc casion, aud he paid a glorious tribute of eloquent praise to the poet. When Glad stone sat down Longfellow stood up. Thunders of cheers greeted the grand old mnu, but the grand old man was very miserable. If they hod given him a pen nnd called on him for a poem, he would have done well enough, but asked for a speech, aud without notice, Mr. .Long fellow was nonplused. He opened his mouth. No sound came forth. A second time he essayed to speak with a like re sult. At hist he said: " Gentle:nen, I thank you; but it was understood that there were to be no speeche:-. I imagine that iu spite of his poetic gen tleness and amiability Mr. Longfellow must cordially hate the name of 8. C. Hall. Longfellow could chat pleasantly and learned enough away from the for mal restraints of oratory; but ex-President Grant is what may be called a silent man all round. Now and then he breaks out into an easy veiu of conversation, but this is only seldom. Midhat Pacha himself is not more reticent than Gen eral Grant, when he pleases. A iluman Salamander. A famous man was M. Chabert, the fire king, fire eater and "poison swal lower, rather less than half a century ago. By trade a baker at Paris he gain ed much notoriety by his fire-resisting qualities. According to the stories told of him he would rush into a burning house and bring out the inmates. Once paseing a smith's forge he took out a white hot piece of iron with naked hand, placed the end on an anvil, and had the smith hammer away. The son of Vul can, too much alarmed, ran away, fear ing that a denizen of the nether regions had made his appearance. For a time Chabert was inspector of the royal kit chen at the Tuilleries ; but he was prone to go into the heated oven and give out the dishes of baked viands with his hands. The king, fearful of the results from such proclivities, discharged him with a small pension. He went to Vien na, and in the presenoe of the imperial family sat in a tar barrel flaming and smoking until he was blackened like a negro. Coming to England, he exhibi ted at White Conduit House, where he entered a huge oven, took in a leg of mutton, shut the door, sang some French songs and camo out with the mutton baked. Ou other occasions he bore the heat of an oven raised to 500 degrees. Repeatedly he swallowed phosphorous and prussic acid, or appeared to do so ; but when Mr. Wakley, editor of the Lancet, proposed to administer the last named powerful poison as a test Chabert refused to comply. This and other cir cumstances led to the failure of the fire king as a profitable exhibition. Turks Diving for Torpedos. The Turkish government has organ ized a corps of divers, whose business it is to root up the torpedoes which the Rus sians plant in the Danube and on the shores of the Black Sea. These divers are Mo hammedans from Lazistan, and a certain number of them are attached to each of the Turkish squadrons. When the ships arrive near a spot where the existence of torpedoes is suspected two divers row to the place in a very light boat, which draws so little water that there is scarce ly any danger of its striking against a torpedo. On arriving at the destination one of the oarsmen dives into the sea; if he finds the wire or rope by which the torpedo is attached he cuts it with a sharp instrument, and returns quickly into the boat. The liberated torpedo floats to the surface of the water, the men pass a sort of lasso round it, take it in tow, and then row back to the Bhip as quickly as possible. For each one thus captured the divers are paid about $50 in addition to half the value of the tor pedo itself. The Fourth Abroad. The presenoe of General and Mrs, Grant iu London naturally gave addi tional interest to the celebration of the " fourth," this year, in the British me tropolis. The cable reports that the principal feature of the celebration of our nation 1 holiday took place at the Amerio in legation, where Mr. and Mrs. Grant acted as receiving guests, together with Mr. and Mrs. Pierrepont. The re ception lasted from four until seven o'clock, and waa attended by all Ameri cans at present in London, among them ex-Gove$nor Hendricks, Seuator Couk ling, Gen. Sickles, Mr. Eugene Schuy ler, and a host of other political and di ploniatiepersonages. The reception closed with the singing of tbe "Star Spangled Banney ' by Miss Steel, an American, FARM, HARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD. Plantln or Drilling Corn. Shall we plant oorn in checks, or drill in continuous rows, and cultivate only one way ? Each method has its advan tages, and each is practiced by equally good farmers. Oorn in drills will pro duce larger crops than in checks, pro vided the season is favorable and the soil rich and clean. But no farmers have yet reached the limit of large crops of corn in hills. With rows three and one half feet each way, and three large ears per hill, the product would be 140 bush els of ears per acre a yieldthat far sur passes the average. Most farmers think that they fail to grow large corn from lack of stalks, and hence plant six or even seven grains per hill. Four is as many as should be dropped where grain is the object. If fodder is desired, still plant the grain thin and drill in a piece by itself ns thickly os you choose. It is impossible to reach the best result in a corn crop, as in everything else, by try ing to' do two things at once. Even four stalks to a hill are too much for the largest yield of grain. The plants crowd each other too closely and the ears are shortened or imperfectly filled. Herein is the advantage of drilling corn. With continuous rows, six, seven or more stalks may bo grown in the space which a hill would occupy, and without crowd ing the plants. Some very large crops are grown in this way. Mr. Jesse Dewey of this county, a few years ago, grew 1,800 bushels of ears of corn on twelve acres of clover sod. He always has corn after clover, and always drills his seed, harrowing the ground thoroughly be fore and after the corn is up, and until it is six or seven inches high. The drag destroys a few plants, but he drills thickly enough to leave a good stand. The use of the harrow saves half of the labor of cultivating and entirely obviates the use of the hoe. Of course the land must be free from thistles and quack, as the drag will not keep these down, but the small annual seeds are easily de stroyed by the slightest brush. It is much better to harrow corn which has been drilled than that planted in hills. ior what is destroyed does not leave so large a vacant space. Another advantage is, that with a fertilizer drill, some phos phate, guano, or gypsum may be drilled with the seed to trive it a erood send off. Applying such fertilizers by haud before planting is a very slow and laborious process. The ease with which a field may be planted with a drill is another strong recommendation. In a poor season early pianteu corn always does best, and a difference of two or three days in getting in the crop may decide its success. But it is useless to think of. drilling corn, except for fodder, except on clean land. If the field is foul it is better to take a little more labor in planting and save a good deal in hoeing. On a field that has grown a largo crop of clover the previous year, there will usuolly be few seeds of weeds. The sod also will decay so readily that breaking it up by cross cul tivation will not be nee Jed. It is on such land only that drilling corn can be confidently recommended. Most of the failures in drilling come from seeding too iignuy and from having the ground filled with June grass, or other weeds which choked tho crop. W. J. F in Country Gentleman Farm Note. Cucumber. Bugs. A correspondent of tne tiermautown Telearanh writes " Melon and cucumber hues like radish leaves better than any other kind. I sow a few radish seeds in each hill, and never lose a plant. Earth-worms, cut worms, white grubs, and in fact, most worms are easily driven out by salt sown broadcast. 1011 can do no harm with ten bushels to the acre, but half a bush el is ample. Dry slacked lime is also ef fectual. A New Fruit. The Diospyros Kali. known as the date plum or Japaneso persimmon, has been grown in Caufor nia, and its successful culture fully established. The tree is highly orna. mentalis a proliflo bearer, is as hardy as the pear, and ripens as earlv. Tho fruit is solid, and can be shipped across ttie continent. When dried it is equal to tigs, and can be kept a long time. It is of a bright yellow, orango, or ver milion color, and is unsurpassed for the table, being thought by some to bo equal to the peach or strawberry. Its average weight is from ene-half pound to over a pound. The wood is valuable for manufacturing, being a species of ebony. It will bear in from one to three years. Cultivate the same as the apple, and iu the same variety of soil. Grafted and reliable stock can be sent by mail. Chemical Manures. Experiments with chemical manures, or with new fertilizers of any kind should be mado upon a small scale, and then, as ex perience with the fertilizers and skill in using them are acquired, they may bo used on a larger scale. But experiments are expensive, and whole crops should not be risked in making them. And in the mean tune the farmer's reliance must be upon barn-yard manure, muck, lime, plaster, bone-dust, super-phosphate, and such other manures as ex perience has shown to be profitable. The profits of farming will be largely increased by the proper use and appli cation of chemical fertilizers, but in changing from well-established practice, now circumstances, as well as new mate rials, are introduced, and the changes should bo carefully made, or losses may result at first. Turkey Alauaiiewenl. One great drawback to turkey-raising is the difficulty in getting the hen to lay her eggs in a safe place. But if by placing boxes or barrels containing straw or hay under an evergreen tree, in a clump of bushes or by a stone wall near the buildings, we can tempt her to occupy our impoverished nest, we have attained the desired object. As fast as the eggs are laid they should be taken (substituting china ones in their place) from their exposed position ond carefully stored in a moderately cool place. If ths hen does not oocupy one of the nests we have provided, but steals one, that also must be found, if possible, a ad the eggs secured till she shows signs of sitting, when she should be removed to a room iu a shed or bam aud placed on a nest prepared for her reception. After she is fully established iu the incubation businfii, give b.e tie eggs, furnish her with a snpply of food and drink, a box of sand and undisturbed possession of the room, and ail win oe wen. The Fashions. BASQUES. Great improvements have been, and are still being, made in the style and cut of the bodice, the object being to lengthen, as much as possible, the dis tance between the arm and the hip. Basanes are very long and smooth, fit ting the figure like a glove. Sometimes there are five seams extending to uie shoulders, forming a double side-body, as in the Princesse. . Again, there are three seams curved toward the arm-hole. Some basques hove belts attached to the side seams, and fastened by a gold buckle a little to the loft of the front. Others are girdles pointed in the middle on the upper edge, while the lower edge is trimmed with rows of silk loops. Others, again, are folds of satin buttoned in front; all, however, being on the sides, leaving the back to show the graceful curve of the seams without interruption. These are finished with the English col lar, made very high, with the front points rolled open very far, to show the inside facing. The bow at the throat is invariably used. The Continental, or Louis XIV. basque, with vest and square postillion, is much used for rich toilets. Brocaded silks, copied from pictures by Watteau, are made on purpose. This stylish garment has a postillion in the nocK lengmeneu mw mu eijuui luyyem, with a small Mousquetaire facing, in the Mousquetaire style. A broad, square collar is Bometimes used to match the cuffs, which finish the sleeves. SLEEVES. The sleeve is placed high in the shoul der, and the shoulder seam far back. The arm-hole is much rounded in front. The cord around the arm-size is placed upon the inside, or between the lining and the material, to give a good set to the sleeve. Like every other item of the toilet, they are closely fitted, upon the Duchesse order, plain below the elbow, with buttons and simulated button-holes on the elbow seam, which is sometimes made to lap over flatly, as a base for trimming. A small cuff or puff may be added, which gives a broad-shouldered effect to a slender figure. In more fan ciful toilets the outer seam is slashed and filled in with a puff of the material used in trimming the costume. In fact, the sleeve is the objective point of garniture. Epaulette-like straps or bands are pret tier with a low corsage than short sleeves, which break the harmony of outline, ond which, if employed at all, should be sim ply a puffing or fall of lace. The Mar tha Washington sleeve, plain and close to the elbow, where it is supplemented by a fall of lace, is very stylish, either for full dress or for the street, always, of course, iu conjunction with the twelve button gloves now in vogue. The cord around the arm-size is set on the inside as well as the outside, to set the sleeve up easily. overskirts. For a time these have become over dresses, and usually of the Princesse or der, though the diaphanous, or even semi-diaphanous, materials come in. There is a demand for something more. Overskirts alternate with polonaises where slightly bouffant effects are desir able. The scarf appliances so prevalent do not retain position so well as in silk or velvet. There is such a variety in the styles from which to choose, suggestions seem superfluous ; yet it seems most fit ting to select from the present older of grenadines, gazelines, etc., such a design as will best assimilate with the basque chosen, and display to greatest advantage the somewhat complicated figure of the fabric. CRINOLINES. The demaud of the present styles for some sustaining power is imperative. Small hoopskirts, with no bustle, are now made with light, supple springs of steel below the region of the loins, to carry the weight of the skirt from off the limbs, thus accelerating the chances of walking conveniently and preserving the heels of boots from the friction of stiff .braids, facings and other unwieldy sub stances employed to face the skirt arouud the bottom. They ore laced just back of the hips, in order that their size may bo changed at pleasure. There are no hoops in the center where the wearer would sit upon them, and the front is a mere lad der of tapes, and the ends of hoops are lost in the fullness of the dress upon the sides, the back support causing the train to flow out gracefully. They cost from $1.50 upward. Petticoats are so arranged that they add to the fullness of skirts, and care should be taken that nothing should destroy the glove-like fit of the bodice, which constitutes the perfection of present models. .Latona, A School (iirl Thrashing a Boy. A curious example of female grit oc curred in one of the rural school dis tricts in Skowhegan, Me., recently. Tho school was a disorderly one, the teacher having lost her control over the scholars. Some of the boys had annoyed the girls exceedingly by throwing wadded paper, junks of clay, etc. Vinallv, one of them reported a certain boy to the teacher, The teacher's reply was that she " wanted no tattling." Soon after, while the school was in session, this boy, in firing across the school room, hit this same young lady, hurting her quite bad ly. Her supply of patience and grace was exhausted, immediately seizing large book with these words " If the teacher can't lick you, lean," she started for him. It is said that she pounded until through his tears he begged for mercy. It is also stated that the boy has been remarkably supple and obedi ent ever wnce. ComaDche War Fashions. Says the Fort Worth Democrat : We inspected the warring outfit of a Co manche Indian, killed three hundred miles west of Jacksboro oil the Staked plains by a company of United States colored troops the feathered arrows, bow with the panther skin encasement. together with the deer-skin belt, trimmed with German silver buttons, from which hung two scalping-knives in tasty bead encasements; each knife was marked ou the handle with the number of scalps it bad severed; one had twelve marks and the other eight HARD TIMES. Present Itelatlon Between Production nnd Consumption. The Popular Science Monthly says: Production and consumption do not have that intimate relation to each other they once had. In old times the weav er, for instance, was in contact with his customers; he wove cloth as he discov ered the need; he cautiously set up a second loom when it became fully evi dent that it could be kept employed; and thus supply and demand went, as it were, hand in hand. But now gigantic mills tilled with many spindles havelit tle accurate relation to consumption. The power of production by means of improved machinery is something im mense, and it is exercised with no very watchful or cautious regard to the imme diate needs of the community. Goods are piled up in vast quantities in waiting for a future market, or for an anticipated change in price, or they are pressed upon the market at such low rates or on such long credits that buyers are se duced into over-purchoses. In favorable times these establishments are run at high pressure. The old-fashjoned nice relation between producer and consum er disappears. Speculation takes the helm. Much more is produced than there ia corn, leather, or other goods, to exchange for it. The resources of the mills are great; they can borrow from tho banks while they pile up their fab rics in their warerooms; they can by means of their concentrated capital keep their machinery running, even at a loss, if by so doing they can crush out a rival or manipulate the market. But in the height of this prosperous run there is a check no matter for what cause and suddenly the work stops. There is little sale for goods produced; the fires must be put out, the doors closed, and thousands of operatives are deprived of employment. This would not be so un fortunate if this over-production had been diffused among the work-people. But it had not. Notwithstanding the high pressure and the excessive manu facture, wages have been kept down; while producing in six montliB as much could be exchanged in a year, tne workmen have not been paid in this way their wages have been upon the basis of the whole year's work as a result, they are turned empty-handed upon the street. And, what is particularly unfor tunate, they are reduced as consumers to the minimum point. Here the evil works both ways. The excessive production which has shut up tho mill has weak ened the power of the community to ab sorb this production the goose tnat laid the egg has been slain. Inevitably the recovery from hard times brought about in this way must be slow. The spindles cannot be set in motion until the Btock of goods on hand is reduced and a fresh demand revives; this demand cannot re vive because the great body of consum ers are 111 a state of impoverishment. This condition of things is entirely sufficient to explain the genesis and the prolongation of business prostration. Capital is not impaired; it is locked up in machinery that is silent, in goods that cannot be exchanged, in money that has no borrowers. It is the paralysis of consumption that is the cause. Thoughts for Saturday Night. A difference of tastes in lokes is a great strain on the affectionp. Narrow-minded people deliberately shut out half the pleasures of lite be cause the enjoyment of them clashes with their own peculiar views. Base natures joy to see hard hap hap pen to them they deem happy. Decency is the least of all laws, but yet it is the law which is the most strict ly observed. .Envy makes us see wnat win serve to accuse others and not perceive what may justify. Everything is worth seeing once, and the more one sees the less one either wonders or admires. In the enecies with which wo ore best acquainted namely, our own I am far, even as an observer of human life, from thinking that youth is its happiest sea son, much less the only happy. raiey, Every other sin hath some pleasure annexed to it. or will admit of some ex cuse; but envy wants both; we should strive against it, tor it indulged in it wiu be to us a foretaste of hell, upon earth, To a man of a delicate and sensitive mind, nothing is so truly revolting as the discovery of an offensive habit in the woman he respects. Let crrace and goodness be the princi' pal loadstone of thy affections, for love which has ends will have an end, whereas 1 1 , , - 1 1 x . -.1 "II mat wnicu is iouuueu ou true virtue win always continue. Extravagance is one of the greatest evils of the present age. It is under' mining and overturning the loftiest and best principles that should be attained and held sacred in society. It is annually sending thousands cf young men and women to misfortune and ruin. Detroit's Hero. Anthony Grogan, jumping for the ferry boat Victoria, at the foot of Wood ward avenue, Detroit, Mich. , missed and fell, but he was saved bv John Horn. ir. This makes the one hundred and thirtieth person that Mr. Horn has rescued 'from drowning. It is thirteen years since Mr, Horn, Br. , took up his quarters at the foot of Woodward avenue, occupying the restaurant on the wharf, tiis son John was then a youth of twenty years, a power ful athlete, well known in base ball cir cles as one of the strongest batsmen ever turned out iu Detroit. Before Mr. Horn established his headquarters on the wharf at the foot of Woodward avenue, the place was dangerous, as there were no railings along Jie shores, and oftentimes the nights were so dark and so foggy that it was easy to walk off suddenly into twenty-five feet of water. Mr. Horn has lost $1,500 worth of clothing in saving lite, sometimes ruining a new and hand' some suit within an hour after puttiug on tor the nrst time, in 1871 his ad mirers in Detroit gave him a beautiful gold medal, and this he lost in resouing a person from droirning. In the rescue of Anthony Grogan, Mr. Horn lost his gold watch and chain and a medal presented to him by the city authorities. Two years ago Congress voted him a gold medal, - Items of Interest. The plague of 1340 is said to have di stroyed in Christendom 23,840,000 per sons. Immigration from Russia brought ns 6,959 individuals last year mostly Mennonites. At a Michigan wedding a man of one hundred and six years danced with a young lady eighty-nine years his junior. This war has already demonstrated one thing, that the Russians can run as well as the Turks can when occasion re quires. The French mint has struck 10,000 francs worth of centime pieces in bronze, each representing about the twelfth of an American cent. It is useless for physicians to argue against short-sleeved dresses. The con stitution of the United States says that " the right to bear arms shall not be in terfered with." Daniel Webster, Wellington, Napo leon, Bismarck, or any other great man whose genius put its brand upon the age, would feel his insignificance as quickly as you or we if he ever attempted to wade through a Texas wheatfield. A Baltimore hock driver reached his home a few nights since and complained of severe pains in his side. Rising from his chair he said to his wife: " I shall die before morning," and walked toward the window. Suddenly he fell to the floor dead. A Western paper hos improved' on the original plan, and now says : "No com munication will be published in this paper unless accompanied by the full name of the writer and a five-dollar bill; these are not requested for publication, but as a guaranty of good faith." In Pittsburgh Jacob Klonsking wrapped $300 in notes up in paper and put it in a drawer. His wife wishing to kindle a fire soon after began a search for paper, but found none until she opened the precious drawer, and a cheerful blaze was soon on the hearth, which cost Klonsking nearly $300. A Sad Story. "Married, In Now Orleans, Thursday, June 7, 1877. at 6:30 p. M., James M. Walpole and Monnie M., daughter of the late George W. Pritchard." "Died. June 7. 1877. at 8:90 P. M,. Alonme M., wife of James M. Walpole." The above, from a New Orleans paper, is the simple announcement 01 one 01 the sorrowfulest stories it ever falls to mortal pen to recount. Monnie M. Pritchard, of New Orleans, was a beau tiful, gentle, very intelligent girl. She was a cousin of Mr. William McAlpin, of Cincinnati, and some time ago visited Cincinnati and the North for the first time. Her visit of a few weeks in Cin. cinnati stretched itself out to many months, before she left finally for her Southern home. She naturally had many friends and admirers. Mr. James M. Walpole, city editor of the New Orleans Picayune, had been devoted to her for four years, and at length, on the nineteenth of June, they were to have been married. iSetore the happy day came Miss JrTitcii ard was stricken with sudden, fatal sick, ness. Thursday, June 7, it became plain that the lovely girl could not tarry longer among the living. They told her so, and she sent for her bethrothed, and asked to be married to him before she died. "Yes." said Mr. Walpole, "if she is to die, I want her to die as my wife." The solemn marriage ceremony was performed hurriedly and sadly, while the gentle soul was even then passing into eternity. Three hours after she was dead, and Mr. .Walpole, four years a lover, three hours a husband and now a widower, has only her sweet remem brance left him. A Choleric Father's Revenge. A sentimental young gentleman iu Galveston, Texas, was paying his ad dresses to a pretty daughter of a choleric Frenchman, and was drifting gentlv into the smooth haven of wedlock. Sud denly he ran across a snag. A jealous rival told the young lady that her affianced lover had called her father " a snappish, snarling, gouty old frog-eater," and had described her as a flirt 01 the first water, with a temper equal to that of Beelzebub's spinster aunt." The young lady was angry. She told her father and he was also wroth. The doors were closed upon the lover; the old gentleman even threatened to brain him. A few weeks afterward the young lady discovered that her lover had been maligned, and forthwith he was sum moned with prayers, promises and tears. He called one evening and everything was satisfactorily explained. The chol eric old Frenchman did not know that the charges were false. He happened to pass through the hall and saw the happy lovers sitting close to each other and holding hands. His ire was inflamed. He went on tip-toe to the water-cooler at the end of the hall, carried it to the parlor door, aud suddenly reversed it above the heads of the devoted pair. Explanations and dry clothes were soon in order. A Small Feast of Horrors. A war correspondent on his way to Widdin on the Danube gives the follow, ing little episode of his journey: The Tcherkess, who acted as our guide and who called himself Mahmoud became talkative, and gave us to understand, more by gestures than word4, that he was in the last war. He complacently related to us the part he took, and he made the most amusing figure as he strenuously endeavored to explain him self. His eyes shone like burning coals. " It was here," said he, " that I shot the Servian officer whose horse I am now riding; there I out off the head of a cor poral, who seemed determined not to die. Further on I cut off the ears and nose of a soldier. There," pointing to a little shrub, I buried the nose. Shall I show it to you?" We asked to be ex cused. While he related to us all his terrible story he occasionally sniffed the perfume, of a rose which a pretty little girl had given him just previous to our uepanure. as up neiu it almost continu ally to his nose and month I ventured tq remark that the Turks were very fond of flowers; when he was not smelling the rose be waa drinking absinthe a very agreeable amusement to him, no doubt,