r t j 5 J 1 A I 5 HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher. NIL DESPERANDTJJI. Two Dollars per Annum. VOL. VII. BIDGWAY, ELK COUNTY, PA.; THUBSDAY, JANUARY 3, 1878. NO. 46. i-. . -. Poem by Two Little American (jlrln. St. Nicholas Magazine. Elaine and Dora Read Goodale, the two sin ters tome of whose poems (re here given, are children of thirteen and ten years of age. Their homo, where the'r infancy and child hood have heen passed, is on a large and leo lated farm, lying npon the broad slopes of the bean tif til Berkshire hills of western Massa chusetts, and is quaintly called " Sky Farm." Here, in a simple country life, divided be tween books and nature, they began, almost as soon as they began to talk, to express in versa what they saw and felt, rhyme and rhyme seeming to come by Instinct. Living largely out-of-doors, vigorous and healthful in body as in mind, they draw pleasure and instruction from all about them. One of their chief delights is to wander over the lovely hills and meidowj adjoining Sky Farm. Peeping into mossy dells, where wild flower, love to hide, hunting the early arbutus, the queen hare-bell, or the blue gentian, they learn the secrets of 'nature, and these they pour forth in song as simply and as naturally m the birds sing.'1 The Urumbler. His Youth. His c iat was too thick and his cap was too thin, lie couldn't be quiet, he luted a din He hnted to write, and he hated to read. He wax certainly vrry much injured indeed s He must study and work over books he de tested, HU pirents were shirt, and ho never was rested : He knew he was wretched as wretched could te, There wag no one so wretchedly wretched as he. His Maturity. His farm wis too small and h's taxes too big, li was selfish and lazy, and crosi as a pig ; His wife was too silly, his children too rude ; And juxt because he was rmcomnv'nly good, Ho never bad money enough or to spare, He hid nothing at all fit to eat or to wear ; He know he was wretched as wretched could be, There was no one so wretchedly wretched as he. His Old Age. He Kudu he lias sorrows more deep than his fer. He grumbles to think he has grumbled for i ars : Ho grumble) to t'link he has grumbled away Ills home aud l is fortune, his life's little day. JSnt, alas ! 'tis too late it is no nee to say That his eyes are too dim, and Lis hair in too gray. He knows he is wretched as wretched can be, There is no one more wretchedly wro'ched than h. Dora Gnnlale ten years old). June. For stately trees in lich array, Fcr fnuliiht all the harpy day. For blofBoms radiant and rare;' - i. For skies whin daylight closen, x For Joyous, clear, outpouring son;j '' From birds that all the green wood throng, For all things voting, aud bright, aud fair, We praise thee, Month of Roses ! For blue, blue i'dos of summer calm, For fragrant odors breathing balm, For quiet, cooling shades where oft The weary head rcponc, For brooklets babbling thro' the fields Where Earth h? r choicest treasures yields, For all things tender, sweet and soft, We love thee, Month of Roues ! Elaine (lootale (thirtnrn years old). Ashes of Roses. (Crown people often write in sympathy with children, but hero is a littlo poem by a child written in bj mpatby with grown folks : Hoft on the sunset fky Bright daylight closes, Leaving, when light doth die, I'ale hues that mingling lie Ashes of roses. When love's warm sun is sot, Love's brightness closes ; Eyes with hot tears are wet, In hearts there linger yet Ashos of roses. Elaine Goolale thirteen year old). An Impudent Puppy. Pretty, sauoy Kitty went swinging up and down, tip and ilown, her light niuslin drees waving and fluttering iu the breeze. "Glorious, Rupert, isn't it?" alio cried, calling to her pet and companion, a huge, shaggy dog. 44 But where are you ? Why don't you answer, sir ?" And swinging more slowly, she looked every where around her. Kitty was down at the bottom of tke old-fashioned garde at the back of her father's farm-house, where a swing had been put up for her in a little grove of trees. Suddenly a merry voice cried out, " Here 1" aud a handsome young man leaped the low fenee, and advanced towards her, laughing merrily, and doffing his hat. Kitty was out of the swing and on her feet in an instant, her eyes flashing, her figure drawn up to its full height She looked prettier than ever in her indig nation. 44 I beg your pardon," said the in truder, bowing half-mockingly ; "but I was taking a short cut across the field when I heard you call me." "Call youl" Kitty looked as if she would annihi late him. "Certainly," with the utmost cool ness, 44 You called Rupert,' didn't you ?" "I was calling my dog, sir," said Kitty, with infinite hauteur. " well, I'm not exactly a dog," was the laughing answer ; " but I've often been called au impudent puppy at your service, miss." He boved again, profoundly. " I should think so," snapped Kitty, stamping her little foot And she muttered to herself, not expecting to be beard: "Impudeace!" The stranger heard th word, never theless, nis manner changed. He became as serious and deferential aa the most chivalous knight of old in tke presence of his mistress. ' I I ieg pardon : I'm afraid I'm trea-pa-t-iug. but the path through the field was troJdea eg if one bad the right of wo? tliere,ottJ I heard yen call-well, I made a mistake." Again the mirthful look danced in his eyes, " Good morn ing." He swept the very ground with his hat, aa he executed another profound bow, and then turned and, putting his hand on the top of the fence, vaulted over, and the next moment was out of sight. Kitty did not swing auy more that day. but went back to the house, mut tering: "Impudent fellow 1" while the real Rupert, who had started off chasing a rabbit, reappeared at this juncture, and accompanied her. But this was not the Rupert she mennt, when she said " the impudent fellow." A week passed. Kitty saw no more of the stranger, though she often won dered whom he could be, and if Jie were staying in the neighborhood. At the end of that time she attended an eve ning party at Squire Stacey's. Almost the first person she saw on entering the room was the handsome stranger. "I wish to introduce you to my nephew," said the squire, leading that personage up to Kitty. " His name, by baptism, is Rupert Mortimer ; but he is such a saney fellow that he is best known among his friends aa ' that impu dent puppy.' " The eyes of the young people met. Young Mr. Mortimer's were dancing with fun. For the life of her Kitty could not help laughing. So they laughed in concert, and he said, bowing low, and repeating the same words he had used in the garden : "Yes, 'that impudent puppy at your service, miss.' " "He is making sport of me," said Kitty to her3elf, and drew herself up haughtily ; aud for the rest of the inter view she was cold and reserved, confin ing herself to moiosyllabio replies. Very soon, at the a'Xiance of one of her mnny admirers, iieexcused herself, and went off to claims?. " A bit of a Tnrtiir, I'm afraid," solilo quized Rnpert Mortimer. "But how pretty she is. She looks, too, as though slio had a noble character ; and she can take her own part, as I have found to my cost. But I'm afraid she has been i.poilt by admiration. To get into her good graces one must go on his very knees to her ; and, faith 1 it is almost worth while to do it. But no, Rupert Mortimer, my boy, keep your self-respect" Then, with a laugh, " ' Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing?"' Yet often that evening Rupert found himself, as if by some magnetic attrac tion, drawn to Kitty's side. Kitty, too, could not help occasionally glancing admiringly at his handsome face aud graceful figure. - Balls, pio-nics and croquet parties followed each other in rapid succession, for the summer waa a gay one. -' Kitty and young Mr. Mortimer were together almost constantly. Somehow, Kitty fell into the habit of expecting Rupert always as her special escort; and he began to feel that no one but he had a right to Kitty, and to be very jealous when others attempted to pay her atten tions. As yet, however, no words of love passed between them; for Rupert, now thoroughly enamored, feored to ruin all by a too premature avowal ; es pecially as, once or twice, when he had ventured to approach the subject, Kitty had suddenly grown haughty and cold. A final pio-nic had been planned to close the season. It proved a great suc cess. The day passed merrily on until luncheon time. Rupert had made up his mind to have a quite ramble with Kitty after this meal, and if things went well, to speak of his love. But he had counted without his host, for when luncheon was over, and ho had got rid of his aunt, Mrs. Stacy, who had called him to her side to wait on her, lo 1 Kitty had disappeared. Full of jealous fears, and determined to find out who was his rival, he seth frth through the woods to discover Kitty. He had not gone far before her favor ite dog came bounding toward him, jumping and barking, and manifesting the greatest delight at seeing him. But when Rupert stooped to pat his name sake, the dog darted ahead ; then stopped and looked wistfully at Rupert, and then rushed on again. " What can he mean ?" said Rupert. A sudden fear seized him that some thing was wrong, and he hurried on, the dog rapidly leading the way. At last, in an opening of the woods, on a moss-covered rock, he saw Kitty, pale, breathless, and apparently in pain. In a moment he was at her side. All his jealousy was gone. Love was upper most now. "Oh! darling," he cried, "what is it ? Thank Heaven I have found you." "Oh! Mr. Mortimer," she cried, with a little sob, " how glad I am to see you. I began te think I should have to stay all night alone. I've sprained my ankle and I can't walk. What shall I do?" And she burst into tears. Our hero took both the little hands, and held them tightly in his own, while he questioned her anxiously as to the accident, relating meantime how he came to find her. " But how," exclaimed Kitty, ruefully, when he had done" how am I ever to got back f I don't believe I can walk a step." " Of course you can't. Who said you could ?" cried Rupert " But you'll get back right, all the same, for I intend to carry you." " Carry me !" Kitty gave a little scream, aud shrank bak, and covered her face with both her hands, for she felt the hot blood in her cheeks. " Oh, no ; that- will never do ;" and she blun dered out unthinkingly, " what will peo ple say?" N. But Rupert did Ept stop to reply to this question. Very lyttle cared he what people said. WitVmt A word he put his arms around Kitty, and, lifting her bodily from her feet, walked off with her as if she had been a feather-weight At first, Kitty struggled a little ; but the strong, manful arms held her closely, and soon she began rather to like it, and to think it all very delightful "At any rate," she said to herself, " I can't help it ; he is too masterful to resist " With this comforting conclusion, her fair head sank on his shoulder, and for the first time in her short life Kitty knew what it was to bo supremely happy, Rupert cftfriad 1U lovely burJta to his own carriage, which stood apart from the crowd, and carefully placed Kitty in it. "There, now," he said, "I shall take yon home immediately, and stop for a doctor on the way. Nobody can drive you with so little pain as lean," he added, seeing she was about to object. " Besides, yon must begin t obey me, so as to get your hand in, for sometime yon are going to be my wife, you know." " lour wife? cried Kitty. She gave a pout and a toss of her head, but she blushed, and not with anger either. Yes ; blushed to the tips of her dainty ears. " Of course," retorted Rupert, as he stepped softly into the . carriage, and took his seat beside her, looking holf fondly into her eyes which fell before him. "I have meant- it all along. Didn't you, dearest ?" " Really, you are the most 'impudent puppy' t ever saw," retorted Kitty, bursting into laughter in 9pite of her self. But, for all that, she did not repulse the kiss with which, before starting, Rupert thought it necessary to fortify himself for the journey. What more it there to tell? Very little. For Kitty and Rupert were mar ried early in the autumn, and were su perlatively happy. "Do yon know," said Rupert, one day, " that it was by the merest acci dent we ever knew each other? I had come down to my uncle's for a single mgiit only, when 1 saw yon iu tue swing, and my whole life was changed. I fell in love at first sight, and resolved to stay and make your acquaintance, even if it took all the summer." " So I owe my happiness," answered Kitty, archly. " to my faithful dog dear old fellow being off guard that after noon." "And to an 'impudent puppy ' coin ing along." retorted Rupert with a kiss, "just in the nick of time, and taking his place. The Story of a " Hired Uirl." A Wheeling ( W. Va. ) correspondent of the Detroit Free Press tells the follow ing story : One day last summer a friend of mine called npon me, informing me that her girl wished to see me in regard to taking music lessons. Of course, I was somewhat surprised at the idea of a hired girl wanting to take music lessons, Mrs. D , her employer, seemed to look upon her with the greatest respect. The children, from baby Lucy up to big Tom placed all confidence iu her, and would run to Tillie with their little troubles in preference to mama, some' times. After seeing Tillie, and making the necessary arrangements, it was her desire to come for her lessons in the eve ning, when she was tree from her 1av,'s work. Mrs, D had given her the use of the piano for au hour or so in the afternoon. I was struck with her prompt ness and lady-like manners, and could but think her ambition was quite natural, All the autumn and winter Bhe came out untiringly, perhaps her evening would pass aud 'she wonid not come, but os sure as the next day came, with it came a neat note excusing herself on the ground that "the ironing was so large." or "Mr. D came in so late for supper," but I always missed the bright, sunny face when she failed to come. How I used to watch those poor red, stiff hands toiling over the Keys. "Musio and kitehen work do not agree very well, but I love my music so, it makes my task lighter in the. kitchen," she would say cheerfully. Can it be, I would think, that she is to be looked down on simply because she was compelled to slave for somebody? Ah. no. she was doing her duty. It was the m'ssion God had set out for her and her reward wordd come by and by. One evening Tillie handed me a letter saying : " I want you to read the offer of another situation I have had." I little guessed the contents as I took it from her. To my astonishment and pleasure it was a manly, noble heart pleading for her life to be placed in his keeping. Every word spoke the true man, nothing sickly or sentimental ; just such a letter as I would want to receive under similar circum stances, and the writer, I knew the name well, and knew him to be a perfect man. I could but ay as I handed back the letter, " I hope you accepted." "Yes" and there was a wealth of happiness in the clear blue eyes, and some tears, too, I im agined. ' I never knew what it was to live before. Just the thought that there is one person in the world to care for me in such happiness." Then she told me how, after receiving his letter, she wrote to him telling him she was but a poor girl, it would be better for them not to meet "he came to me in a few evenings telling me he knew exactly how poor 1 was, he asked me for nothing but my heart and hand could 1 reiuse l Blessings on such girls. In place of foolishly running the streets, the devoted her spare moments to music and good reading. My Tillie presides over a pleas ant lutle home all ner own, and looks up to her handsome lord wondering like the old woman, " Can it be 1 f Military Surgery iu Turkey. The following details will seem in credible to those who are not acquainted with the peculiar ways of the Turkish administration. An artillerist had his knee shattered at Sistova by the explo sion of a shell, and after his wound had been temporarily dressed he was trans ported from the Held of name to Con stantinople. In spite of his intense sufferinirs. he listened with the greatest interest to all the news from the seat of war. On his arrival in Constantinople, amputation was found to be necessary, bnt before the operation could be per formed permission had to be obtained from the ministry of war. This permis sion must always be obtained before an Rmnntatinn can be performed im a Turkish hospital, and it not infrequently happens that the patient dies beiore the civil functionaries have ceased deliberat ing on the demand of the surgeons. Fortunately for our artillerist his ease was pushed through with exceptional rapidity, and the ..desired permit waa given after a delay of only eight or ten days. The brave soldier, who had awaited the pleasure of the administra tion with the most exemplary patience. bore the operation with heroic courage: nere is wn nope mm m wpi dated. MARK TWAIN ASD'1 HE MISER, fllnrk's FIrxt nnd Only Attempt la Travel oa Ilia Nnm lte Flumr The Rxtrner ilinnry Uneat KB Old Winer Ilnal. The Boston A d ertt$er gives the fol lowing report of the remarks of Mr. Samuel L. Clemens, at the banquet given in honor of Mr. John G. Whittier in that city recently s Mr. UHAiRMAJt : 'luw is an ocoasion peculiarly meet for the digging up of pleasant reminiscences concerning liter ary folk ; therefore, I will drop lightly into history myself. tandiug here on the shore oi the Atlantic and contemplat ing certain of its biggest literary bil lows, I am reminded of a thing which happened to me fifteen years ago, when l had just succeeded in stirring np a little NevadianlifceKjry ocean-puddle myself, whose spum-llakes were be ginning to blow thinly, Californiaward. I started an inspection tramp through the southern mines of California. I was callow and conceited,? and I resolved to try the virtue of my nom de plume. 1 very soon nad au opportunity. 1 knocked at a miner's lonely log cabin in the foot hills of the Sierras just at nighs fall. It was snowing at the time. A jaded, melancholy man of fifty, bare footed, opened to me. . When he heard my nom ds plume, tin looked more de jected than before. "He let me in pretty reluctantly, I thought and after the customary bacou'tand beans, black coffee aud a hot whWy, I took a pipe. This sorrowful man jiad not said three words up to this time. , Now he spoke up and said in the voice of one who is secretly suffering : " You're the fourth I'm going to move." "The fourth what ?" said I. " The fourth literary man that's been here in twenty-four hours I'm going to. move." "Yon don't tell me !" said I ; " Who were the the others?" "Mr. Longfellow, Mr. Emerson and Mr.... Oliver Wendell Holmes dad fetch the lot 1" Yon can easily believe I was surprised. I supplicated three hot whiskysdid the rest and finally the melancholy miner began. He said : : " They came here just at dark yester day evening, audi let them in, of course. Said they were goir.g to Yo Yosemite. They were a rough lot but that's noth ing, everybody looks rough that travels afoot. Mr. Emerson was a seedy little bit of a chap red-hfded. Mr. Holmes was as fat as a balloon he weighed as much as 300, and hfcd double chains all the way down to his stomach. Mr. Lonnrfellow was built like a prize-fighter. His head was cropped and bristly like ns if he had a wig made of hair brushes, His nose lay straight down his face, like a finger with the end joint tilted np. Thpy had been drinking I cohKI see that. And what queer talk they used I Mr. Holmes inspeciod this cabin, then he took me by tue button-holo, and says he : " 'Through tho deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings: Bmld thee more str.ti '.y mansions, O my sonl !' " Says I. ' I can't afford it Mr. Holmes, and, moreover, I don't want to.' Blamed if I liked it pretty well, either, coming from a stranger, that way. However, I started to get ont my bacon and beans, when Mr. Emerson came and looked on awhile, and then he takes me aside by the button-hole and says: " Give me agates for my meat; t live me cantharides to eat ; From air and ocean bring me foods, From all zones and altitudes.' " Say I, ' Mr. Emerson if you'll excuse me, this ain't no hotel.' You see it eort of riled me; I wasn't used to the ways of littery swells. But I went on a-sweanng over my work, and next comes Mr. Longfellow and button-holes me, and interrupts me. Says he: " Honor be to Mndjikeewis ! Yon shall hear how Tan-Fuk-Keewis " But I broke in, and says 1, 4 Begging your pardon, Mr. Longfellow, if you'll be so kind as to hold your yawp for about five minutes and let me get this grub ready, you'll do me proud. Well, sir, after they d filled up I set out the lug, Mr. Holmes looks at it, aud then fires up all of a sudden and yells, " ' Flash ont a stream of blood-red wine ! for I would drink to other days.' 44 By George, I was getting kind of worked up. I don't deny it, I was get ting kind of worked up. 1 turns to Mr, Holmes, and says I, 4 Looky here, my fat friend, I'm a-runnmg this shanty, and if the court knows herself, you 11 take whisky straight, or you 11 go dry. Them's the very words I said to him Now I didn't want to sass such famous littery people, but yon see they kind of forced me. There ain't nothing onrea sonable 'bout me; I don't mind a passel of guests a-treading on my tail three or four times but when it comes to standing ou it, it's different, and if the court knows hetself , you'll take whisky straight or you 11 go dry. well, between drinks, they'd swell round the cabin and strike attitudes and spout bays Mr. Jbong fellow, " ' This iu the forest primeval.' Says Mr. Emerson: " ' Here once the embattled farmers stood And fired the shot heard round the world. 44 Says 1 : 4 O, blackgnard the premises as ranch as yon want to--it don't cost you a cent.' Well, they went on drink' ing. aud pretty soon they got out t greasy old deck and went to playing cut throat euchre at ten cents a corner on trust I began to notice some pretty suspicious things. Mr. iiimerson dealt, looked at hia hand, shook his head, says : '"lam the doubter and the doubt-' and calmly bunched the hands, and went to shuffling for a aew lay-out. Says ue, ' 4 They reckon 111 who leave me out i They know not well the subtle way I ktep. I pass, and deal again!" 44 Hang'd if he didn't go ahead and do it. too I Oh. he was a cool one. Well. ia about a minute, things were running pretty tight, but of a sudden I see by Mr. Emerson's eve that he indeed he had 'em. He had already oorraled two tricks, and each of the-othera one. So now he kind of lift a .little in hia chair, and says : " 1 1 tire of globes and ace 1 Too long the game U plajed ! and down he fetched a, right bower, Mr. Longfellow smiles as sweet aa pie, and aayg ; " Th"ki, thanks to thee, my worthy frlepd t ot tot iteeen auw uaj fangot y and dog my cats, if he didn't down with another right bower I Well, Sir, up jumps Holmes, a-war-whooping, as usual, and says : 44 ' Ood help them If the tempest swinge The pine againat the palm ! ' and I wish I may go to grass if he didn't swoop down with another right bower. Cmerson claps his hand on his bowie, Longfellow clasps his on his re volver, and I went under a bunk. There was going to be trouble ; but that mon strous Holmes rose up, wobbling his double chins, aud says he : ' Qrder, gen tlemen J the first man that draws. I'll lay down on him and smother him ?' All aniet on the Potomac, yon bet you I " They were pretty iiow-come-you-so, now, and they begun to blow. Emerson says, 4 The bulliest thing I ever wrote was 44 Barbara Frietchie. ' Says Long fellow, 4 It doesn't begin with my 14 Big low Papers."' Says Holmes, 4 My 41 Thanatopsis" lays over 'em both.' They mighty near ended in a fight Then they wished they had some more company, and Mr. Emerson pointed at me and says : " 4 Is yonder squalid peasant all That this proud nursery could breed. ' 44 He was a whetting his bowie on his boot so I let it pass. Well, sir, next they took it into their heads that they would like some music ; so they made me stand np and sing, 4 When Johnny Comes Marching Home ' till I dropped at 'thirteen minutes past four this morning. That's whatl've been through, my friend. When I woke at seven, they were leaving, thank goodness, and Mr. Longfellow had my only boots on, and his own under his arm. Says I, 4 Hold on there; Evangeline, what are you going to do with them ?' He says : 4 Go ing to make tracks with 'em ; because " ' Lives of great men all remind ns We can make our livee sublime And departing, leave behind ni . Footprints on the sands of Time.' 44 As I said. Mr. Twain, yon are the fourth in twenty-four hours and I'm a going to move I ain't suited to a liter ary atmosphere." 1 said to the miner : " wny, my dear sir, Uiese were not tue gracious singers to whom we and the world pay homage ; these were imposters. The miner investigated me with a calm eye for a while, then said he 4 Ah. imposters were they ? are you ?" I didn't pursue the subject, and since then 1 haven t traveled on my nom ae nhime enough to hurt Such was the reminiscence I was moved to contribute, Mr. Chairman. In' my enthusiasm I may have exaggerated the details a little, but you will easily, forgive me that fault, since it is the first time I have ever de flected from perpendicular fact on an occasion like this. - - Canceling n Church's Debt. The New York Tribune of a recent issue snys : xue uuurcn oi tne noiy Trinity (the Iiev. Dr. Steven H. Tyng, Jr., rector) yestenlay pi. dged $f lou.uuu toward canceling its heavy debt oi SfUdb, COO. This remarkable result was due largely to the earnest and inspiring ap peals of Hidward Aimuan, tne "cnurcu debt raiser." as he is sometimes called. from his remarkable success in relieving churches ot crushing burdens of debt and of Dr. Tyng, Dr. Charles S. Robinson, and Roswell C. Smith. It was announced from the pulpit yester day morning that the debt would be raised then and there. Checks were passed around, and while addresses were being delivered, papers all over the house were being rapidly covered with significant figures. Tho munifi cent gifts of one person after auother were received with a quiet satisfaction that spoke volumes for the success of the plan ; and the rapidity with which checks were handed iu, and their amounts, showed an enthusiastic devo tion which took no thought of hard times. It was pleasant to note the in terest tuken in the subscription by the women and girls, and the many Tittle clubs they formed, pledging themselves to sums largo and small, were practical proofs of their zeal. t Before the morning wore away 110, 000 had been subscribed and enthusiasm was at fever heat. The church was crowded and the remarkable success of so short a season aroused hopes of rais ing the whole amount that day. It was not thought wise to dismiss the congre gation while in so satisfactory a mood, so a nice little lunch was provided for all, and all were invited to remain. Messengers carried explanatory notes to many homes. Those who sent no word received many calls of inquiry during the afternoon. In fact the courteous ushers were kept very busy, reassuring anxious friends, who came to discover why the most regular persons iu the world, who had never been away from home before without sending word, had not returned. When the character of the extra meeting was learned, numbers came in more rapidly than ever. Occa sionally some overwearied lady would leave the church, but her place would soon be filled by a fresh arrival. The gentlemen sat quietly through with tire less patience. The morning session did not really end until half-past five. Then a short recess was takeu until half-past six, the evening session continuing until nearly eleven o'clock. Among the subscrip tions made during the day and evening were seven pledges of $10,000 each ; nine of $5,000 each ; one of $3,000 ; two of $2,000 ; eight of $1,000, and the re mainder in smaller sums. The subscrip tions are to be paid within six months on condition that the whole amount of the debt is subscribed. An Aged Apple Tree. There is standing in tho towu of Wethersfleld, Conn., an English Pear main apple tree of mammoth dimensions, measuring, one foot from the ground, ten feet and eleven inches in circumfer ence. It yielded fruit, according to tra dition, for nearly a century before the revolution, waa brought from England by William Try an, and set out on hia farm, which haa since been divided into smaller ones. Upon one of these sections, now belonging to a Mrs. Loveland, etanl tlits venerable tree. It is in a good bearing condition, having borae exeellent fruit last year. We have more power than will, and it is often by way of excuse to ourelvf g that we faaoy thing are iinpoMfble, A Fox Hunt on the Old Plantation. The Constitution, of Atlanta. Ga., saya t The scourge that swept slavery into the deep sea of the past, gave the death-blow to one of the outgrowths of that peculiar institution. The results that made slavery impossible blotted from the Southern social system the patriarchial we had . almost written feudal establishment known as the old plantation. Nourished into life by slavery, it soon became one oi tne features of Southern civilization a peculiar feature, indeed, and one which for many years exerted a powerful influ ence throughout the world, it waa a cherished feature of Southern society, and it is not to be doubted that its de molition haa been more deeply deplored by our people than all the other results of the war put together. What days they were those days on the old planta tion I How vividly you remember the slightest incident ! How picturesque the panorama that passes before your mind's eye ! There was the fox hunt planned for the espeoial benefit of Miss Carrie de Compton, the belle of Rock ville. Yon remember her lying in a state between dreaming and waking, as Aunt Patience heaven rest the good old negro's sonl I comes into your room with much ado, bearing a steaming cup of coffee. You remember what an impression the fair Carrie made upon you in hr trim riding-habit and how, when with one dainty hand holding the gathered folds of her skirt, she stooped to caress yonr favorite honnd Flora, you lost your heart utterly. It is all indel ibly impressed npon your memory the ride to Sir Reynard's range, the casting about oi the hounds, tne sndden burst of canine melody as the fox gets up right in the midst of the pack, the hard ride at the heels of the hounds for a few moments, and then the sndden inspira tion on your part that it would be well to gnide the fair De Compton to a point near which the fox (an old customer of vonrsl would surely pass. You remem ber how you vainly endeavored to con vince your skeptical charge tuat tue slight, dark shadow stealing across the hillside not a quarter of a mile away was the veritable fox the dogs were after; how your whole framo tingled with de light when t he soul-stirring music of the hounds was borne to your ears on the crisp breeze of the morning,, and what a thrill came over yon as the pack burst into view your ilora far to the iront ana nymg line a meteor i How Congressmen Live. Says 44 Gath," in a recent Weshing- ton letter to the Cincinnati Knomrer Diet, exercise, little company, no public dinners, home habits, secretiveness ; these are the hfe-bneys of a Congress man. I see some men here, guiltless on every other score, who are wrecks from dining out merely, The high climate of this country would soon kill the roost seasoned English statesmen if fed as well as at home. There ia the bitters of concentrated Angostura or the brandy cocktail before dinner. The larded meats are pressed upou the palate by wines which inevitably drift into long potations of champogues, ranging from the lightest Verzenay to the brandy strong green seal. A tor all this, aud animated conversation, iu whose wisdom the intellect has appeared to touch the gods, the man is put to bed, and sleeps under nature's deadest convulsion uui il morning, when he relies upon the bath to revive the hot skin, and release the braiu to public work. Frightful is the waste of tissue ever going on. The animated mind is tho speediest lost ; in the time of potution come the familiarity and temptation, tho loose tongue and easy commitment, the snare of women aud the social injury. Theie are public men in Washington who pour out the wine they never taste, and still it seems that they also are caught up with by the consequences. I see sick men here who offered the cup and never drank. Hebo had no brother ; he died before she came I the cup. Slioemaking. The shoemaker is a relic of antiquity, aud lived and had his being as early as the twelfth century. He was accustomed to hawk his goods, and it is conjectured that there was a separate trade for an nexing the soles. The Romans, in class ical times, wore cork soles in their shoes, to secure their feet from water, especially in winter, and, as high heels were not then introduced, the Roman ludies, who wished to appear taller, put plenty of cork under them. The streets of Rome in the time of Domitian were blocked np by cobblers' stalls, which he, therefore, caused to be removed. In the middle ages shoes were cleaned by washing with a sponge and oil; soap aud grease were the substitutes for blacking. Buckles were worn on the shoes in the fourteenth century. In Ireland a human skeleton was found with marks of buckles on the shoes. In England they became fash ionable many years before the reign of Queen Mary. The laboring classes wore them of copper. Other persons had them of silver or copper gilt. Not long after shoes roses came in. Buckles re vived before the revolution in 1789, and finally became extinct before the close of the eighteenth century. Life in Dreary Iceland. Men and women, masters and servants, all inhabit the same room, while the cleanliness is not much attended to; bnt poor as they are, and accustomed to great privations, they set an example of cheerful contentment. The beauty of the young girls is remarkable ; their fair hair falls in long plaits, partially covered by a black cloth coil, daintily worn on one side of the head, and fin ished at the top with a tassel of colored silk run through a silver or steel buckle, whioh floats on the shoulder. It reminds the traveler of the Greek head-dress, but the blue eyes, with their sweet. benevolent expression, soon recall to hia mind their Danish origin. The dress is made of the cloth woven in the country, and on festive days the bodice is gayly adorned with silver braid ana velvet, while the belt and sleeves are ornament ed with silver devioef, beautifully chased and often of great value. On wet and oald day the shawl becomes a, useful mantilla, oompletely enveloping the head, and defending the wearer from the etrecta of the frequent urm,,f 'ham ben' Journal, ; Early Morning Sights In a CHy. It is interesting occasionally to arise early in the morning and see the city get up and shake itself into wakefulness. Scarcely a sound is heard as you walk out, bnt presently the street-lamp man comes dodging along on a rapid walk, stopping at every point to turn out me gas. tie disappears around tne corner, leaving a track of semi-darkness behind him, and then comes the paper carrier, with a great, heavy sack dangling at his side, whioh he gradually lightens by pulling out the damp sheet,one by one, sticking tnem nnaer aoors, lossmg uvh transoms, and throwing through npper windows with an unerring precision of aim quite remarkable. He dodges about from one side of the street to the other, aiming for this house, missing that, and then darting over again to the opposite side to repeat the same manoauvre. After him comes the grimy laboring man with a tin dinner-bucket, hastening to his work on the other side of town, hur- . rying by and paying no heed to the ine briated loafer embracing a lamp-post, and accosting him with : 44 TJh-nh-ick ! Myfrenwat uu-icn s yonr hurry?" Then comes a Deiatea mun-cuii, nu tting oyer the cobble-stones with a noise notlung else under heaven can make, turning the corner on one wheel, and disappearing like an ill-founded hope. The noise dies away in the distance, end then comes an omnibus on its way to the depot, regardless of dreams and visjons. In the all-night saloon two or three ill-looking men, with breath like pesti lence, are standing at the counter with half empty glasses, condemning the conduct of some absent one who had done something scandalous, and " went baok on his pards, who alius treated him white, an' would a' died to do him a good turn. " The barkeeper rubs his sleepy eyes, looks uneasily at the clock quite frequently, pours himself out something very red, gulps it down with watery eyes, takes a walk to the door, looks impatiently out, slums it with a disappointed bang, returns and says: 44 Brandy Bill is at his old tricks agin." The other drain u.oir places, after many hand-shaking all round, and when a man with a shocky head and a gift-book cover staggers in, and swears he never .drinks alone "if there's a stranger of white principles in the room," and wants to know 41 what pizen suits 'em best," he at once takes the position of honor, and inhales more foul breath iu the shape of friendly protestation than a mule would put up with, without kicking the roof off. At the hotels the scrubbing brigade has commenced its daily battle with dirt, and the clerk yawns on his stool and twirls his moustache with the air of a task. . . A littlo later and the newsboys are -ot, with noses u-l-"Ui c6it'., ohrmtiug their journals in quavering tones, and importuning every straggling passer-by with a persistence encountered in no other calling. Then come the street cars with yawning drivers, and now and then a passenger, who rubs his eyes, and thinks regretfully of the recently vacated couch. The footfalls on the sidewalk become more frequent and less reverberating. In the market the scene is lively aud animated. The torches fliiro and splutter in the wind, aud at slight distance give to the view a weird, fantastic look, but on closet ap proach the abrupt outlines mellow dowu aud fade away. The potatoes and cab bages jostle the poetic element out ot sight, and the matter-of-fact plodding faces of the venders remind you that life is sordid and stem. The gray dawn rolls owoy. and the first straggling sunbeams clase each other over housetops. Shop-boys are busy unbarring and opening up, sweep ing out and getting things in trim for the day's battle with profit and loss. Thicker come the passing feet; men and boys, girls and women, hurrying forth to 'take up the yoke of toil for bread. Stir aud bustle soon take the places of quiet and rest; the streets are noisy with the roll of vehicles and the sound of business. Tlie great city has thrown off her clumbers, aud the cares and duties of another day are ushered in. Cincin nati Jl?eal;)ut labic. A Confidence Trick. On Suudny eveniug, says a late num ber of a St. Louis paper, a well-dressed young man called iu a West End Metho dist church, and asked one of t he deacons if he knew who had the collection money of the morning service. The deacon informed the young man that the money contributed that morning to the serv ice of tho Lord wiu at his re sidence; and he added the inquiry: May I a6k the reason of your question ?" 44 Certainly," the courteous young man answered; "I attended the ministration of the Gospel this morning at this church, and, desiring to aid the cause, I dropped my humble mite into the plate. I thought. it was a silver piece of currency, but 1 find now Unit it was a piece of Canadian money which I value highly as a pocket piece." The worthy deacon recollected that a piece or Canadian money was found among the coins, and he told the young man that there would be no trouble in getting it. But at present the whole col lection of money was at hia houe. However, when he went home he would pick out the particular coin and bring it down town to his place of business the next morning. The young man said to save trouble he would call at the deacon's house on Monday morning. This was agreed to, and the deaoon's address was given to the stranger. This wicked yonng mau then went straight to the deacon's house and made the bold state ment that he had been sent for the morn ing's collection to take it baok to churoh, in order that Deacon might pick out a certain valued coin which an old gentle man had inadvertently dropped in. The ladies of the household believed the Soung man, and had they known where le money-bag was kept they would have handed it to him in all confidence; bnt fortunately they did - not know. The deacon's partner in business, who lived in the house, was asked whether he knew where it was kept- He did, bnt he pos sessed to much worldly wisdom to be. .taken in by the young man's story and 'good-looking faoe, There were about ixty dollar in (He pojltftit, v
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers