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HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher. NIL DESPERANDUM. Two Dollars per Annum.
VOL. VIII. KIDGWAY, ELK COUNTY, PA., THUKSDAY, DECEMBER 12, 1878. NO. 43.
K '
A Christmas Carol.
All this night shrill chanticleer.
Day', proclaiming trumpeter,
Clap. hi. wings and loudly cries.
Mortal, mortals, wake and rise,
Bee a wonder,
Heaven Is nndcr ; ,
From the earth is risen a Sun
Shines all night, though day be done.
Wake, oh, earth 1 wake everything.
Wake and hear the Joy I bring (
Wake and Joy for all this night,
Heaven and every twinkling light s
All amazing
Still stand gazing i
Angels, powers, and all that be,
Wake and joy this Snn to see.
Hail, oh, Bun 1 Ob, blessed Light,
Sent unto the world by night,
Let Thy rays and heavenly powers
Shine In this dark soul of ours ;
For most surely
Tbon art truly
God and man, we do confess: '
Hail, ob, Sun of Righteonsnes.
A Tale of Three Yuletides
BEING A BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS REVE
LATIONS TO A VERY TOtJNO LADY.
Tell you a story? I believe, little
Amy, you could coax a Christmas story
from even the giant Blunderbore, who,
as you know, was rather a cheerless and
uncivil fellow. So settle yourself in my
lap don't be afraid to hug me too close
and listen.
Being by this time well aware of the
exact number of watch charms in my
Eossession, you are surely much t rol
led to find out why of late I
carry about a many-dinted old Roman
coin, in preference to a large stone
mounted in gold, or a little Chinese
idol, or even a gold dollar, with the
whole Declaration of Independence
stamped on one side. You must under
stand, as you are a sad little flirt, that
ornaments of the latter sort are much
affected by your many gentleman ac
quaintances. Let me account for my
strange behavior. Ab the coin hangs
from my watch chain, so by the coin
hangs a tale, which runs after this fash
ion :
It is now some fourteen years since I
was liviDg in Rome. I was only a very
young and inexperienced artist then,
you know ; and I didn't wear such an
immense beard and whiskers as are now
coquetting with your dear golden curls.
And, what is more, I was not so extrav
agantly wealthy in those days as you
suppose me to be, now that 1 am your
Uncle Coventry and am able to daily ex
tract a fow pennies from my pocket, to
be instantly concerted by you into tarts
at the nearest baker's shop. You will
believe, then, that I was rather well
pleased than otherwise when a beautiful
lady, all dressed in silks and satins and
t biasing with jewels, rustled into my
- humble studio, one fine September
morning. Was she a fairy princess?
Oh, no ; not quite. But she did there
and then inquire whether I would be
willing to paint a portrait of her four-year-old
daughter, Bianca, which she
intended as a Christmas present for the
little dear's grandmother. I should have
informed you that Biarca was present
also, and had quickly interested herself
among my brightest pictures. What
sort of a little girl was she ? Well, in
due gallantry and with allowances for
the difference of climate, I must not say
that she was prettier than yon or that
her hair was a trifle more shining. I
took her offer immediately, and it was
arranged that Bianca should visit my
studio three or iour times a week, in
company with her mother or nnrse or
uncle, and sit as still as a church mouse
for ten minutes, which latter was a mat
ter of dreadful vexation to her, as St
would be to you also, Miss Amy. Bi
anca and myself became firm friends,
although she would pout and and pre
tend to be awfully mad with me when I
would insist upon her keeping a sober
faoe for a second together, or stop tor
menting the whiskers and soul of an
ancient cat, who was the partner of my
joys and sorrows. She was born in
Venice, where most of the golden-haired,
blue-eyed children of Italy come from.
Her mother owned a whole village in
the proviuce of Venice, and her father,
who had been a very great man at Rome,
was long since, dead.
One day my lovely little model, " my
Bianca," as I used to call her (don't
pull my beard bo hard, I verily believe
you are jealous, little Amy) one day
Bianca came to my studio with her
uncle, Count Luigi, whom I then be
held for the first time. He was the
brother-in-law of the ooulessa. Was he
much like me? I hope not. You
shouldn't like him for an uncle at all;
and I am certain Bianca did not. He
was tall and dark and mysterious, and
his yellow face was decorated by a pair
of black, fiery eyes, that were entirely
too near to be honest; likewise by a
hooked nose, and a coal-black mustache,
tne ends of which were continually find
ing their way between his beautiful
white teeth. Uncle Luigi seemed to me
vastly like one of the ogres, magioians,
or wicked knights addicted to stealing
pretty maids from their castle boudoir p,
of whom you have read a good deal in
your books. I did not admire this gen
tleman from the first; and our meeting
was pretty much the same as the distant
acquaintance of two icebergs. I am not
quite sure that Bianca 's mother liked
him; but she appeared to be too weak
and easily managed to express her want
of affection for him.
My pioture progressed famously, and
(paint a pioture of you ? Certainly,
my love. We will have it ready for
your next birthday) and when the first
week of December closed I had delivered
my picture to the Contessa di Casa
blanca, receiving in exchange a check
on a Roman bank for a most agreeable
sum of money. The portrait was to be
taken to Venice, and duly presented to
the grandmother on Christmas day. It
represented Bianca smiling, and dressed
in a low-necked silk gown, with a neck
lace of pearls round her throat. From
the necklace hung this same old Roman
ooin, which her papa had picked up
under the walls of Rome. Some Roman
. maybe Julius Ciessr, had dropped it
there two thousand years ago.
The contessa had promised to pay me
a farewell visit before departing for the
north of Italy. The appointed day had
arrived, and I had gone to the extrava
gance of donning an entirely new suit of
clothes to receive and entertain my
guests. I waited and fidgeted ; but no
visitors. No kind, tender contespa ; no
angelio Bianca; no perfldious-lookin3
uncle appeared. When the night set in,
I felt angry and disgusted, little Amy,
because I thought my Venetian ac
quaintances had left Rome, forgetful of
me. The following morning I went to
the dwelling of the contessa, to discover
whatever I could concerning her de
parture. Judge of my surprise on learn
ing that the lady had not yet departed.
I was shown into the drawing-room by a
servant on whose faoe I detected the
signs of some trouble ; and I waited for
thejrustle of the eontessa's dress in the
doorway. Bnt this was not to be. In
her place came Bianca's nurse, pale and
with eyes bnt newly-dried from weeping.
Sinking into a chair, she almost sobbed
to me the following words :
" Oh I Signor Pembroke, the con
tessa is in an agony. We were going to
see yon yesterday, when the contessa
asked for Bianca. She had been play
ing on the steps bnt a minute before,
and then it was impossible to find her.
'1 he house, the garden, the streets, all
have been searched ; but in vain. We
cannot find my little Bianca. Some one
has stolen her away. And my mistress I
she will surely die I "
Nothing beyond this could I discover
from any one. Bianca had disappeared
as completely and hopelessly as though
the earth had opened and swallowed
her. It was not proper for me to in
trude my presence upon the great grief
of the contessa's household. I sadly
withdrew, full of anxiety for the sweet
child, whom I had learned to love.
No effort was spared by the contessa
and the Roman police, and apparently
by Count Luigi, to recover the lost
Bianca. But the attempts were utterly
useless ; and the mother, sick at heart,
) cturned to her home, taking with her
my picturo, which cruel fate seemed to
have transformed from a Christmas
present to a sacred memento of an angel
forever flown.
Now don't interrupt me. I have not
fi jished j et I am going to relate a
n ther odd incident that happened be
fore the time of Bianca's disappearance.
Late one night I was crossing the bridge
of Sant' Angelo, which spans the Tiber
was thinking over the finishing touches
to my child picture, when I suddenly
became aware of a boat passing under
me. Prompted by curiosity, I leaned
over the battlement of the bridge and
listened. A man was standing in the
boat, speaking and gesticulating to the
rowers. I saw him clearly in the full
moonlight, and I was almost sure that
be was the Count Luigi. Only a few
words could I catch from the speakers,
and they were these, spoken by the
rough voice of some low rascal of the
Roman populace :
In ire a&Mmane la bambina tar a "
(in three weeks the little'girl shall
be )
The rest of the' sentence I could not
hear ; but the words were enough to
exoite a strong suspicion in my mind,
when I connected them with Bianca's
disappearance. Could the man have
really been the Count Luigi ? I dared
not reveal to any one what my mind
suggested namely, that Bianca had
totually been made away with by her
uncle, bargained into the hands of a
parcel of scoundrels. How could I
prove it? What reason could I give for
his committing such a crime? More
over, he was a powerful man at Rome,
and could make the place exceedingly
uncomfortable for me if his anger were
once raised against me. Confident tbnt
our Divine Father would in the end un
ravel the terrible mystery, I betook my
self to my painting again. The gener
ous contessa had not only paid me far
beyond what my toil deserved, but had
recommended me to the great families
at Rome. I suppose I could paint
tolerably well then, and Jmy patrorage
i nor eased daily.
Seven years passed on, my Amy, and
your uncle had in that time becometsuoh
a grand artist and earned so much
money that he thought he would come
over the water to his old home in New
York. Accordingly, I hired my little
studio down town and commenced busi
ness at once. I did not have very long
to wait for patrons. A gentleman call
ed in one October day and conversed
with me about a pioture he wanted
painted to order for his art gallery.
'I hear you are from Rome," said
he. " You must be a great painter. I
want you to make me a picture of a
child who has woke up on Christmas
morning and found her stocking cram
med with good things. And mind you,
the child must be very beautiful"
All right, " said I. Call on Mon
day next and I shall have my sketch
ready for you,"
You know artists most generally have
models for such pictures. Hence I set
myself to work to secure one; but I
found this was a difficult job. Now, if
you had been a young lady then, I
should have certainly had you sit for
my painting. But my model came from
an entirely unexpected quarter. I had
left my stndio one evening, and was
walking np town through an out-of-the-way
street, when I heard the musio of a
harp and violin, just as they sound
when the Italian players come under
your windows to drive you crazy with
their awful performances. On drawing
nearer, I discovered a dark-complexioned
and handsome Italian boy twanging
an accompaniment on his harp to an
outlandish song, and near him a young
girl airily and delicately drawing her
bow across a. battered riddle. Seeing
me, she stopped, approached, and, hold
ing out her band piteously, said:
" Oh I mister, gif a poor girl a few
pennies. The padrone will be beat ns
if we go back without money; and we
have had nothing to eat. Oh I mister,
do, please I"
I was touched, and the pennies so
dearly needed quickly came forth. The
girl was uncommonly beautiful, I
thought, for a street-waif. She had
yellow hair, partly hidden in an old
pink muffler, and sweet wide bine eyes,
and such a nose, month and dimpled
chin all like yours, my love. Her faoe
was tanned a little by the sun of many
days in the pitiless streets. Her attire
was a many-patched cotton dress, of no
particular color; and her fe6t were
covered by great clumsy shoes, such as
onr grocery boy wears. How old was
she ? I should say about ten or eleven,
and her male escort was certainly not
much older. As I stood looking at her,
the thonght struck me that I ought to
take her as my model.
" Come here," said I to her. ' Why
do yon live with the padrone (don't in
terrupt me again, miss. I will tell yon
shortly what a padrone is), when he
bents you ?"
"I have no other home," the poor
girl replied. " The police would take
me if I slept in the streets, and maybe
shut me np forever."
"Wouldn't yon like to go to a nicer
home, and have plenty to eat and decent
clothes, and get paid for easy work I"
" Oh I sir, she almost sobbed, as if
the happiness I spoke of were too great
to think of.
" Listen," I continued. " If yon will
leave the padrone, I will get you a com
fortable place to live in, with a nice old
lady to take care of you."
Unaccustomed as the child was to
kindness from strangers, she clearly re
garded me with doubt, and, looking at
the harp-player, who was observing me
with considerable interest, answered :
" But I won't leave Jiacomo. He is
good to me. He gives me half his bread
when I am very hungry."
" Will you come with me if Jiacomo
comes ? " I asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Then step this way, Jiacomo," I
said to him. " How would you like to
leave the padrone, and to live with peo
ple who will take care of you ? You
will have work to do and be well paid."
Jiacomo took off his hat, and, smiling
ly looking me in the face with good
natured, honest eyes, replied : " Yon
are too good, sir. I would like to go, if
she may come with me ; but if the pa
drone ever catches ns he will kill ns
both."
"Have no fear of the padrone," I
said. "If he makes any trouble, we
will have him arrested and put into
prison."
This bold declaration of mine settled
the matter, and I had little further trou
ble in persuading them to accompany
me to my studio, where I intended to
have them stay for the time being.
They must have thought that I was the
city governor, or at least a police cap
tain. Fancy your grave and decorous
Uncle Coventry marching down Broad
way at nightfall, followed by a couple of
delighted mountebanks. The janitor of
the building in which my studio was
located must have thought I had gone
raving mad, and he greeted me with a
look of blank surprise when I appeared
at his doorway, with my extraordinary
companions. " Now, then, sir," said I
to him, " be spry, and run up-stairs and
build a roaring fire in my grate; and then,
sir, prepare a hearty supper for these
famished children." The musical in
struments of my two friends were de
posited in one corner of my studio, and
in a very short time the children were
seated before such a supper as they had
conceived of only in blissful dreams. I
next bade the the janitor's wife provide
them with comfortable beds. When I
was preparing to leave, the happy child
ren wished to kiss me ; and I graciously
agreed, promising them they should see
me early in the morning.
Now, while they are supposed to be
asleep, I shall tell you what you seem
dying to know namely, what a padrone
is. He is an old ouimudgeon, who re
ceives stolen children from Italy, and
makes them go out into the street to
beg, or play, or steal usually all three.
And if they do not obtain money in some
way, he beats them and packs them off
to bed supperless. What do you think
of that, little girl ?
But about my street acquaintances:
It was decided npon next day that
Jiacomo should keep my studio in order,
while his companion would sit for my
Christmas picture. The pair were placed
in charge of my janitor's wife, with the
strictest commands that due care should
be taken, lest they might again fall into
the hands of the padrone. In order to
make my model as happy-looking as
possible, I provided her with a box of
bon bona, and seated her on a beautiful
rug, amidst the rare and curious little
objects of my studio. Yes, I shall bring
you to my studio some day; onlv yon
must promise not to put things into a
too hopeless confusion. I was showing
her how to pose, when, suddenly, as if
some long forgotten thought flitted
across her mind, she said quickly:
" Oh I I know how to sit, sir. I had
my pioture taken before many, many
years ago."
"Indeed!" I replied. "How was
that?"
"In in Roma; when I was a bambina,
before my mamma died. The men said
she was dead. Then I came to live
with the padrone. It was many days
before I came here. We had to sail on
the water in a ship. Oh ! ever so large
a ship 1" 6
" And what is your name ?" I ufeked.
"The padrone calls me Carmen
Carmen Tortolant."
It was the common story, I thought,
of a child, an orphan, taken from Italy
to a hard life in America. I could not
gather any more knowledge of her
earlier life from Jiacomo, who was
standing by. I turned to my paper, to
commence sketching her, when it oc
curred to me that a necklace would look
pretty on little Carmen. I stepped to
a cabinet, saying :
" I am going to give yon a necklace,
Carmen. One of bright beads."
" Oh I How nice ! But, see, I have
an old one. Only an ugly penny tied
to a string."
She removed it from her neck. I had
not noticed it before, andjoarelessly took
it in my hand. Never was 1 so sur
prised in my life. The penny, as she
called it, was actually the same coin
that now hangs from my watch-ohain,
the same that my early friend, Bianca
di Gasabianca bad worn.
" Where on earth did yon get this ?"
I cried, hardly able to stand still with
excitement
" I always wore it, sir."
" What did you say your name was ?"
" Carmen. But I know they used to
call me Bianca when I was a baby."
" And do you recollect your mamma's
name f " J
" 1 onlv called her! mamma, sir, I
don't know that she had any other
name." .
" Do you, perhaps, remember the
name of the artist who painted your
picture?"
"I don't think x uo. it was like
Pern "
"Pembroke, perhaps?"
" Yes r yes I Pembroke I Signor
Pembroke i''
My street-waif then was none other
that Bianca di Gasabianca I I caught
the little girl to my heart and kissed
her, saying : " I am Signor Pembroke.
Do you know me ?"
" I think I have heard your voice
long ago but your whiskers are so
great.'?
I asked her a few more questions, and
her answers more clearly proved her to
be the Bianca of my first artist days.
But I could extract nothing from her to
verify my suspicions of her Unole
Luigi. Although overjoyed to be the
means of rescuing her from the ornelest
of lives, I was now Berionsly troubled by
the thought that Bianca's mother had,
perhaps.died in the seven years that had
elapsed since the beginning of my
story. At any rate, I determined to
write to her address in Lombardy and
take the steps necessary to have Bianca
returned to her family. , I bade my
model play to her heart's content, and
rummaging in my desk for the contes
sa's address, I found it, and before
nighfall I had dispatched a long letter
to Italy.
I did not explain matters fully to
Bianca, preferring to await the results
of my letter to her mother. Weeks
passed quickly by and my pioture was
on the verge of being completed. Bian
ca's face was losing more and more of
its tan and Jiacomo had become quite
a fashionable young gentleman and was
showing a marvelous taste for drawing.
One morning, a few days before Christ
mas, there was a great commotion on
my stairway. I opened the door, and,
as I live, there was Bianca in her moth
er's arms, and the pair hugging and
kissing each other and crying as though
they would never stop 1 I retreated very
quickly, my Amy and your Unole Cov
entry was actually weeping too. Just
think of it I Coventry Pembroke, artist,
in tears t And I believe there wasn't a
dry eye in the whole building when all
the artists knew what had transpired.
In a little while the contessa came
into my studio. I kissed her hand and
bore myself like a hero. Never was
three people so happy.
Many explanations followed. I in
quired after the health of Count Luigi
out of pure friendliness, yon know.
" Luigi is in prison." said the con
tessa.
" Indeed 1" I burst out " I thought
he would arrive there some time."
" He was convicted of beiner concern
ed in a conspiracy against the govern
ment. At tne time of bis trial three
Roman desperadoes, who were being
tried for heavy crimes in the same court,
testified to a previous wirne which he
had hired them to perform! And yon
would not think what this crime was."
I had my idea, but remained silent
" He had contracted with them," con
tinued the conteBse, "to steal Bianca
from me and hide her forever from the
world. My husband's will declared
that, if I died childless and without
marrying again, my brother-in-law,
Luigi, would come into my whole for
tune. Bianca being my sole hoir, the
count calculated upon acquiring ray
wealth when he should have removed
her from his path."
- Here was the mystery solved at last.
Pstraightway confessed my early opin
ions of the Connt Luigi to the contessa,
and likewise the story of the incident at
the bridge of Sant'- Angelo. From
thoughts of the perfidy of this man, we
turned to thank heaven for having thus
marvelously outwitted his schemes. Had
it not been for this ancient coin, whose
seeming uselessness had preserved it
from the greediness of Bianca's captors,
a mother and daughter had died un
happy and far from each other's arms.
So ends the story of the second Christ
mas, which brings us np to the present.
And what became of Bianca and Jia
como ? Well, I have a letter in my
desk from Bianoa, who returned with
her mother to Venice, informing, me
that the contessa had blessed her mar
riage engagement with Jiaoomo. She
inclosed the ooin, saying that, as it
was tne cause of all her happiness, it
was the dearest souvenir she could give
me. Jiaoomo went to Rome some years
ago, and is rapidly turning out to be a
great artist greater even than your
Unole Coventry, I believe the contes
sa defrayed the expense of his prepara
tory education, and she is doubtless
even now helping him on, And he de
serves it ; for he is a real genius, and
has noble blood in hii veins.
Now, don't ask me to detail the pri
vate history of the padrone and the des.
peradoes. Yon are positively drowsy,
and I waut'to smoke. I think ' yon had
better gofo bed, as Santa Clans has in
surmountable objections to filling young
people's stockings while they are yet
awaxe. ,
JUrwegian Commerce.
The Norwegian nation is the smallest
of all European nations, but its commer
cial fleet is tne third largest in the
world. The Norwegian flaaris. of all
foreign flags, that which is most fre
quently seen in the harbor of New
York, and through the sound which
connects the Baltic with the North sea
and forms the highway from London to
ot Petersburg, often three to four hun
dred Norwegian craft of every descrip
tion pass during one single day, Iu
xx or way, aitnougn not every man is a
sailor, every person is. nevertheless.
more or less directly connected with Hi a
shipping interest. To build ships or to
sail them, to own ships cr to have a part
in them, is a point in everybody's life
oil 3 Mf , . 1 ,
uuug muw uiuunuu rjorus wmcn
fringe the coast of Norway; and to the
inland farmer the most common manner
of placing his savings is to go down to
the sea and buy a part in a ship. Manv
a Norwegian vessel, carrying timber to
n.ngiana ana coai oaoK to Denmark, or
dried fish to Naples and oranges back
to St Petersburg, represents th 1.
tunes of a whole village or parish, in
wuiun even mo servant-gin may have a
share, and to many a well-to.dn Wnr,.
gian farmer the only source from wbinh
he draws, and can draw, ready money is
UH DUip-pM It.
Who Invented the Steamboat 1
Everybody who has visited the nation
al oapitol has heard of Brnmidi. the
fresco artist, whose work ornaments and
enlivens every part of the building. Oue
day, while Brnmidi was engaged in
painting a pioture over the door of the
Senate committee room on patents, a
gentleman entered, and after looking at
it for a few moments, asked:
" What is that you're painting r '
" A pioture of Robert Fulton, the in
ventor of steam power," replied Brn
midi. " But he wasn't the inventor of steam
power," retorted the stranger somewhat
earnestly.
Brnmidi. who ooenpied a platform
that raised him almost to the ceiling,
stopped his work, laid down his brush,
and turning toward the stranger asked
in his quiet way: " Didn't Fulton in
vent the first steamboat ?"
" No, he didn't," answered the gentle
man.
" Well, then, who did f "
" Why." replied the stranger, " John
Fitch. He -was a long way ahead of
Fulton. I know that, because I've been
in Fitch's workshop myself."
" Well, you're an old man," replied
Brnmidi. respectfully, "and I won't
dispute your word. I've always thought
that Fulton made the first steamboat, but
if yon say he didn't, it's all right Have
yon got a picture of your man Fitch ?"
" No, I haven't got his picture, bnt
I've got a book that tells all abont his
life and his works."
" Will yon send me that book ?"
"Yes, I will, just as soon as I get
home," answered the gentleman.
" Well, yon do that, and I'll paint a
pioture of Fitch, too," said Brumidi.
"I won't decide who made the first
steamboat Yon send me that book and
I'll paint pictures of both the men and
leave the public to decide who is entitled
to the honor. I'm a painter myself and
don't bother about inventors."
The Btranger left, and in a few days
Brnmidi reoeived a small book contain
ing a personal sketch of Fitch and an
account of his works. From this sketch
the artist painted a portrait of Fitch, re
senting him in his workshop engaged
upon the model of a stern-wheel steamer
with three paddles as motive power.
Those who visit the capitol now will see
a pioture of t niton looking upon his first
steamer over the committee room on
patents, and on the opposite of the hall
is the representation of John Fitch in all
his glory. As Brumidi said, the people
are left to decide whioh)of the inventors
is entitled to the honor. The artist does
not bother himself about the question at
alL Washington Pout.
Novel Mode of Punishing Criminals.
The penitentiary management, deter
mined not to be outdone by Edison,
have introduced electricity as a mode of
punishment. The atatement having
been made that prisoners exposed to
this punishment suffered more than they
did by the use of the ducking-tub, a
reporter called at the prison and was
shown the method of punishment by
Deputy Warden Qtiinn and Dr. Drury,
the prison physician. The electric
apparatus is in a box ten inches in
length, three inches high and tbree
inches wide. It contains an electro
magnet. The prisoner is taken to the
ducking-box, formerly in use in the
insane department He is stripped and
blindfolded before coming in sight of
the water-box, and is then led around a
comer of the interior cell building, and
placed in the box, handcuffed, but not
shackled at the feet. The room is warm,
having fire iu it day and night. He sits
down in water three inches in depth.
One pole of the battery is placed in the
water. A sponge is attached to the end
of the other pole.
Deputy Warden Qafun superintends
the punishment, which f ousists of touch
ing the bare skin of the convict in various
places rapidly, with the sponge. A
prisoner turns a small crank attached to
the electric apparatus. The concern is
so small that it looks likes a toy, but it
makes the subject of punishment yell
sometimes as though he was badly hurt
or badly frightened. The reporter did
not witness a punishment, but is giving
what he was told at the prison. Dr.
Drury says this mode of punishment
does no harm. In some cases he says it
is a physical benefit The punishment
is said to be effectual, on account of the
man being blindfolded. He has no idea
where or when he is going to be touched,
and is not nerved against it, as one would
be who takes hold of the poles of a bat
tery with his eyes open ana his thoughts
concentrated for the expected shock.
It is said that the mode of punishment
has reduoed the visits to the room forty
five per cent. The dungeons have been
dispensed with except five. About one
per week is sent there. The water-box
known as the ducking-tub is ten feet
long, four feet high and three feet wide.
It is painted red and has a lid. When
the lid is lifted np and turned back
against the wall, the visitor reads on the
under side of it, "Long Branch." Co
lumbut Ohio) DitpaUsh,
How He Cured Them.
Many of the congregation made it a
part of their religion to twist their
necks oat of joint to witness the entrance
of every person who passed up the aisle
of the church. Being worried one
afternoon by this turning practioe, Mr.
Dean stopped in his sermon, and said :
" Now, von listen to me, and I'll tell
yon who the people are as each one of
them comes in."
He then went on with his discourse
until a gentleman entered, when he
Dawiea out liKe an usher :
"Deacon A , who keeps a shop
over the way."
TTa than went nn wlfli Ya .avmnn
when presently another man passed
into ine aisie ana ne gave his name,
residence and occupation ; so he con
tinued for some time.
At length some one opened the door
who was unknown to Mr, Dean, when
he cried ont :
" A little old man, with drab coat and
an old white hat ; don't know him look
for yourselves."
The congregation was cured. CZeve-
ana reader,
TIMELY TOPICS.
South Amerioa is suffering from grass
hoppers. The valley of the Oauca, one
of the most fertile and populous sections
of the repnblio of Colombia, has been
ravaged by them. All growing crops
have been ruined, and the people are
threatened with famine.
Among the curiosities at the dead
letter office, in Washington, is a letter
containing $50 and addressed to Hobo
ken, Sniffy Tiddle winks & Co., pig
dealers, 222 Hoffensnipper's Terrace
(corner Fiddlekee avenue and Four Hun
dred and Filth street), Nantucket, Mass.
At prominent railroad points in the
United States there are now forty-six
organizations known as the " Railroad
Men's Christian Association." The first
was formed in Cleveland in 1872. There
is now an active membership of 2,500,
and an associate membership of over
100,000 railroad men.
A Parliamentary paper just issued
shows that in the year 1877 2,662 lives
were lost in England and Wales by
drowning in inland waters. Of the per
sons whose lives were lost 2,140 were
males and 522 females ; 1,423 lives were
lost in rivers and running waters, 637 in
cnnals, and 602 in lakes or ponds.
Mr. Ouy Carlton, a robust farmer
seventy-five years old, living near the
village of Wyoming, N. Y., has bought
bis coffin and has it ready for use. He
also has ready for erection a solid
marble block, chiseled in the shape of a
dwelling, with doors and windows. The
block will be put over his grave to sym
bolize by its form and solidity the last
long dwelling of man.
The world is crazy for show. There is
not one perhaps in a thousand who dares
fall back on his real, simple self for
power to get through the world and ex
tract enjoyment as lie goes along. There
is no end to the aping, the mimicry, the
false airs. It requires rare courage, we
admit, to live up to one's enlightened
convictions in these days. Unless you
consent to join the general chent, there
is no room for you among the great mob
of pretenders. If a man desires to live
within his means, and is resolute in his
purpose not to appear more than he
really is, let him be applauded, There
is something fresh and invigorating in
such an example, and we should honor
and uphold such a plan with all the
energy in our power.
Frauds of History.
At a meeting of the Yale alumni in
New York, Professor Wheeler read a
pnper, in which he exposed a number of
popular historical tales. Sappho never
killed herself by jumping from a rock,
but died a natural deatb. Leoniclaa
fonght at Thermopy Iro, not with only 300
at his bock, but with 7,000. The philo
sopher Diogenes never lived in a tub.
The story of the virtues of the Roman
matron Lucretia must be rejected, while
the story of the Horp.tii and Cuiatii is
worse than doubtful. The sons of Bru
tus were not the victims of their father's
Br meet s, but of his brutality. It was
utterly impossible for Hannibal to have
followed up his victory at Canute, and
the story of his liBing vinegar to cleave
the rocks of the A Ips is absnrd. So,
too, the story of Cleopatra dissolving a
pearl in a goblet of viuegar and drink
ing up a fortune at one draught Ar
chimedes never said: " Give me a lever
long enough and I will move the world ; "
nor did ho cry out " Eureka I" at any
known period of his life or discoveries.
Alexandria was never visited by Omar,
nor was the Alexandrian library burnt.
No more did Galileo eoj: "And yet it
moves for all that I" since it is proved
from authentic documents that he did
not dare to. That Columbus broke the
end of an egg and thus confuted his mock
ers is fabulous; as is also the story that
he encouraged the followers with brave
words when the shores of San Salvador
were still out of sight. Richard III. . of
England, did not kill his brother Clar
ence, and the story about a butt of
Malmsey arose from the fact that the
body of Clarence, who died a natural
death, was transported from Calais to
England in a wine butt. Charles II.
never had the body of Cromwell taken
from Westminster abbey and hanged at
Tyburn, for the daughter of Cromwell,
apprehensive of some such ill-treatment,
had her father's corpse secret! v removed
from the abbey and buried in a quiet
churchyard. Milton's daughters could
not have consoled their father in his
blinduess by reading passages from the
old authors, for the best of reasons
they did not know how to read.
Satisfying the Barber.
One time there was a barber. And
one day a feller he cum into, the shop
iur ro gii snarea, ana ne nanaoa rue
barber a card which was wrot on like
this way :
" For my Hair Taller, clone, lard,
bergmot, pomatum, oil, tonuick, restor
atif, pitchooly, gum, bees whacks, ker
riseen and tar.
"For my Face Cole creem, cam
frice, powder, ham fat, sof sope, glis
sern, poltioe; rooje nammel, giant ce
ment, shoo blackn.
"For my Wiskers Sames for the
hair, only more taller.
"For my Muchtash Do., starch,
glew, morter and sodder."
When the barber he red it he was just
dlited, and said to the feller: " Yon are
the most sensible man which has ever
set in this chair; yes, indeed. I never
see a man of such good taste."
And then the barber shafed the feller,
and tole him all the news which heoude
think, and never stopt tookin, the bar
ber didnt, while he shafed, cos he was
dlited. But, jest as he got dun shafn
the f ellerf and waa getten reddy to put
them things on him, cord in to the
memmy randem, a man wocked in and
took the feller by the ear, and he Bed to
the barber, the man did: " This feller's
got to go now, cos he is a escape; if yon
want to finish him yon must fetch them
things over to the def and dum ward of
the lunattio sylum." Little Johnny.
The most tender-hearted person we
ever knew was a shoemaker, who always
shut his eyes and whistled when he ran
his awl into a sole.
Items of Interest.
The durability of black silks is due to
their frequent cleaning.
The person who wants everything
in ship-shape should go to sea.
There is no part of a man whioh will
stand so many blows as his nose.
What country in Africa resembles a
falsehood that is thrice told ? It must
be Tripoli.
Indignation. " Virtuous indigna
tion " is the handsome brother of anger
and hatred.
Actually some people are so opposed
to culture that they will not elevate
their eyebrows.
The worm and the barrel-hoop are
very much alike in this respect, that
they turn when trod upon.
" Weight for the wagon," observed the
farmer as he helped his three-hundred-pound
wife to a seat in the vehicle.
Every man is made better by the pos
session of a good picture, if it is only
the landscape on the back of a hundred
dollar note.
Frequently the masculine gender is
used to denote both sexes, as when wo
say " Man is mortal." Man frequently
embraces woman.
A cat's eyes begin to grow large at six
o'clock p. m., and are largest at mid
night, when a bootjack seems to them
to be as large as a barn door.
There are 226 counties in Texas, of
these Tom Green and Crockett are as
large as Massachusetts, Pecos as Con
necticut, and Harris as Rhode Island.
Physicians in India raise blisters with
red-hot iron, and dress them with cay
enne pepper. If such treatment does
not make people "smart," we don't
know anything that would.
A Demerara (South America) news
paper contains among its local items the
announcement of the killing of a snake
sixteen and a half feet long opposite the
city hospital, the arrest of an Arab for
passing off a penny piece brightened
with quicksilver for a half crown, and
the arrival of a ship on whose passenger
list are the Names of Messrs. Coahye,
Woozeer, Gangadin, Oree, Lutchman,
Purbhoodoyal and Mungra ; Mines,
Satchuy, Joymoney, Ramdoye, Bhugua,
Oozerun and Gunga, and Miss Zeeboy.
Man sometimes reaches an exalted po
sition. Sometimes pride lifts him np
so high that he will scarcely reoognize
or commune with others even on his
own level ; riches may gain for him
honors and the admiration of his fellow
men ; he may court the muses and win
everlasting fame ; he may cultivate the
sciences and win renown by some dis
covery either in the blue ethereal
heavens or in the dark caves of earth ;
he may become the most noted of men,
and thus be freed from associating with
those of common clay ; but, nevertheless,
he cannot help unconsciously keeping
step with the tune of a brass band that
passes him on the street Salem Sun-beam.
A Curious Petition.
A correspondent who has been rum
maging in the room devoted to the filing
away of congressional doenments, in the
basement of the Capitol at Washington,
says : But perhaps the most curious,
if not the most important, memorial is a
very large one, being in fact, three hun
dred and ninety-six feet long, and con
taining thirteen thousand five hundred
signatures, wishing a congressional ap
propriation and the appointment of a
Boientiuo commission for the investiga
tion of the alleged phenomena of spirit
ualism. The petitioners, headed by
Mr. N. P. Tullmadge, of Fon du Lac,
Wisiousin, urge their memorial on the
following grounds, though I cannot
transcribe their points iu full. They
say, in brief, that " they humbly beg to
observe that certain physical and men
tal phenomena of questionable origin
and mysterious import have of late oc
casioned in this country and engrossed
a large share of publieattention.' These
phenomena are classified as follows :
First An occult force exhibited in
sliding, raising, arresting, holding, sus
pending and otherwise disturbing nu
merous ponderable bodies, apparently
in defiance of gravitation. Second
Lights of various forms and colors and
of different degrees of intensity, appear
in dark rooms. Third A variety of
sounds, extremely frequent in their oc
currence, widely diversified in their
character and more or less mysterious
in their import There is obviously a
disturbance of the sensational medium
of the auditory nerves, occasioned by an
undulatory movement of the air, though
by what means these atmospheeio undu
lations are produced does not appear to
the satisfaction of acute observers.
Fourth All the functions of the human
body and mind are often tnd strangely
influenced by what appear to be certain
abnormal states of the system, and
by causes which are neither adequately
defined or understood. They wish,
therefore a scientific commission and ap
propriation. But alas for the hopes of N. P. Tall
madge of Fon dn Lao and his 396 feet of
friends, we find that a gross and ma
terialistic Senate ordered the memorial
" to lie npon the table."
Washington's Rebuke.
Gen. Washington was dignified in
manner and speech. He exacted appro
priate consideration for himself and his
position; but he exhibited a trait rare
among men of high station he was al
ways considerate toward his associates.
An anecdote illustrates this high-bred
courtesy, and also his tender sympathy:
(Stopping one day during the war at a
house in New Jersey, he found there a
wounded officer. The man was confined
to his bed, and was so feeble that the
least noise agitated him. Washington .
spoke in such a low tone, and while at :
dinner was so quiet, as to influence his
officers to similar consideration for the
wounded man.
When he had dined he left the room,
and the officers, unrestrained by his
presence, forgot in their hilarity the
poor sufferer. Suddenly the door opened
quietly, and Washington entered on
tip-toe, walked to the mantel, took a
book, and without uttering a. word
quietly retired.
The delicate suggestion, too courteous
for a hint, was not loet. It was followed
by considerate quietness.
r
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V