.
1
T:Xr-:s cS' A:.l vcrti.uii
''-quiU'O ( 1 tin !),) nm' iri'-crtion - f!
'"S pinr'0 " i.tio month - - .''. '
n-S.)unro " tliico nioritlm - i "
On S'imio " on' 3 our - 1 ('
Two Sqnnrps, on( ycut - I V o
.n:'.rt rCoi. :( t ti
U' " " - M
One " " - - - - J'1 '
Lral notices At established vaiV".
Marrii'"" "nil donth notice, gratis.
All bills I'll" yearly advertisf merit ool
looted quarterly. 'IVniporary advert We
rnents must bo paid lor In advnriee.
Job work. ('nU nn IeIivory.
" ! r: !.i :n n i.s i.i.v vi uNr-nw, :iv
iT. 21. .v rrcrj -rrncn
in r.ar.irroN' a. etone'v butldiko-
r.I.M CTiir.CT, TlOXUlfA, ?A.
TEU3J3, $1.51 YE.VU.
No S'ul.KrTiptionH rr.-rivod for h shorter
n i.. than thrro months.
'"rr-Kni1oiior solicited Ironi pint"
i'!' )li! country. No notion will betaken
anonymous communications.
Jf f
tAUt
.ill!
Vol. XIV. No. 33.
TIONESTA, PA,, WEDNESDAY, NOV. 9, 1881.
$1.50 Per Annum.
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Life's True Slgnincance.
Deeper than all touse of Booing
Lies t be sriorot source of boing,
And tlifl soul with truth agroeinr,!
Iarfis to live in thoughts and deeds;
For tho lifa is more than raiment,
An.l tho earth Is plnlgcd for payment
Uoto man for all his nods.
Nature Js our common mother,
Every living man onr brother,
Therefore lot us serve each other;
Not to moot the loir's behests,
But because through cheerful giving
Wo shall learn the art of living;
And to livoVnd servo is beet.
Life is more than what man fancies t
Not a game of Idlo chances;
Cut it steadily advances
Up the the mggod heights of time,
Till each complex web of trouble, .
Every ad hopo's broken bubble,
Until tk meaning most sublime.
More of religion, leps of profession;
More of firninofts. less concession;
More of freedom, less oppression,
In the church and in the stato;
More of life and less of fashion;
More of love and less of passion;
Tl.&t will make us good and great.
When true hearts divinely gifted,
From tho chaff of error gifted,
On their crosses are uplifted,
Shall the world most cloarly see
That earth's greatest time of trial
Calls for holy solf-denial.
Calls on men to do and be.
But forever and foroTer
Let it be the soul's endeavor
Ive from hatred to dissever,
Aud in whatsoe'er wo do,
Won by love's eternal beauty,
To onr highest eon so of duty
Evermore be firm and true.
Stratford UrralJ.
A VICTIM OF DUTY.
TRAN8MTED FROM THE FRENCH OF LOTJI8
CO tJu AB.
Yon have often seen him pass through
tha fields with a hanty step, recogniz
able sot only by his blouse ana hit
reurnlation hat, bat also bj the uns
tained activity of his movements, be
oansa for Lioi the instants are counted
and he baa not the right to slacken hie
pace. An indefatigable walker, he ao
oompliehes his task from the first to the
last day of the year without ever rest
incc. No matter though a tropical sun
invite all creatures to become motion
lenn, though the cold be Siberian,
though it blow and snow, he mast go to
the last village on his route to carry the
letters, newspapers and prospectuses
which trade confides by millions to the
care of th post.
The highways are not made for him ;
must he not cross the country, passing
. through woods and marshes, to seek
the hut lost in the depths of the soli
tn. far removed from any publio
road?
tie travels from eight to ten leagues
daily, making circuits, crossing brooks,
coaling, rocks, venturing into ravines
and wounding himself among the hedges
and briars. . Loitering is forbidden to
him, for the official hour of return is
fixed; the letters he brings back must
depart by the next mail. They are
waited for at the postolUce and the least
variation of his programme may have
grave consequences.
We cannot without ingratitude forget
the services of this incorruptible mes
Benger, whose probity and zeal are con
stantly put to the proof, who brings ns
at a certain hour our letters and our
journals, the news, the expectation of
whioh keeps ns full of anxiety; who
contributes to soften for ua the bitter
ness of absence and distance. Imagine
the void the disappearance of these
humblo functionaries would leave in
our existence I
I knew a man who for twenty years
filled this position. A former soldier,
thanks to irreproachable records of
service strengthened by a little lnau-
enco, he had obtained the great favor of
having placed to his sredit fifty francs
per month at the postoffice of the dis
trict.
J'ere Martin was not very fond of
this brilliant position, but he perfectly
understood his responsibility and duties;
he never comphuned.
Everybody in the. district was
acquainted with this little gray-haired
man with bronzed features, whose limbs
had the rlmncy nd strength of steel.
lie was highly appreciated, for, while a
scrupulous observer of the regulation,
he never refused to perform a service,
provided it did not conflict with his
duties.
There was not a corner of his route
which he had not passed over, accom
panied by his wolf dog. lie knew to a
meter the distance separating the small
est hamlet from the chief town of the
district, and was familiar with all the
paths and byways.
To spare himself half an hour's walk
ha never would have thrown into a
ditch some silly prospectus or some
PHP ted matter earing a doubtful ad-
drcoi ; if ho returned anything to the
postollice ifc was becanse its addrets
could not be found, lie was the slave
of his orders, as punctual as the clock,
and so discreet as to diiioouruge the
most curious. Everybody greeted him
kindly when he arrived at a village; the
children came to him, and even the
dogs baiked joyously at his approach,
There was considerable rivalry as to
i ho should oiler hini a plana of cider
Hud a slice of Laoon. Uut he rarely
-l'ed anythicz. Tiaio T a:.d
he did not like to contract i nblesome
oblip.utions. r' " '
Hence the notes made miceming
him vore excellent, and his" chiefs re
grctti d that the parsimony oJ the ad
mininiration only permitted them to
reward his loyal services vith con
temptible gifts.
One day in the middle of October he
departed on is usual round. The
weather was frightful; it had been
raining Incessantly for more than a
week; the roads had become bogs and
the brooks had been transformed into
torrents; what foliage remained on the
trees" was so impregnated with water
that it could not offer a protecting
shelter. The postman, wet to the skin,
walked with the impassibility of an old
soldier who does not discuss his orders.
lie had distributed a portion of his
mail, but his round was far from being
finished when he passed an inn, or rather
a miserable drinking-house, situated at
the entrance of a wood; this place was
mainly patronized by sabot-makers, who
found there alcoholic drinks and a few
groceries.
"Ho! Monsieur, the postman, etop
here for an instant; while you are giv
ing me the information I need, the
violence of the storm will abate.
This invitation was addressed to him
by a man who, with a pipe in his
mouth, was standing upon the threshold
of the drinking-house.
The rain was pouring down at that
moment; a fierce blast swept it into
Pere Martin's face, prevented him from
walking and bent to the ground the
stalwart trees.
The postman was a little ahead of
time, and the demands of the service
do not go bo far as to forbid the ac
ceptance of a momentary shelter when
it oilers itself under such circumstances.
He, therefore, went into the house
and sat down .beside the fire which
crackled on tiie he'arth. "The man who
had invited him to enter threw upon it
some dry branches, which were soon in
flames; a heavy vapor arose from Mar
tin's soaked garments.
The strantrer interrogated the post
man as to the hours of the departure
of the mails, and asked him a host of
questions about himself, his service and
everything concerning it.
" You kr.ow me then?" 6aid the post
man.
Tarblm! Everybody loves ond
esteems yon here; Pere Martin's value
is well known. 1 hope yon will not re
fuse to c'rink with me. Ho I Madam
Rosier, two glasses of your best
brandy."
A woman waited on them and re
turned to her occupation.
What a dog s trade 3 ou follow, 1'ere
Martin I" said the man. " Will it take
you much longer to finish your round 1
You doubtless have yet to go to the
Landa Grise, to Plessis. 1 know some
one who is impatiently waiting for you
there. I am obliged to pass in the
vicinity. If you wish It I will- relieve
you of your letters."
" ThanK you ; 1 will deliver tnem my
self."
" That's yourself ont and out. After
all you are right It is your duty to
deliver them."
While talkinar with a loauacitv whioh
did not encourage the postman he took
up the sack the latter had placed beside
him, seemed to feel its weight and
turned it over and over. -
" Let my sack alone, please," said
Martin, coldly. "You nave disar
ranged all my letters. I shall no longer
know what to do.
The other humbly excused himself
for his awkwardness.
" The evil is reparable," added he.
Beat yourself at this table, and you
will have no trouble to arrange the let
ters according to the route you should
take."
The postman emptied his sack before
him, and began to arrange his letters.
Ilia questioner affected to keep dis
creetly at a distance, but found an op-
Eortunity to cast a furtive glance over
is shoulder.
While Martin was busy with his
work he heard furious growls behind
him.
"Pere Martin, help me to prevent
your dog from strangling mine," said
his new acquaintance.
The postman arose and caught his
dog by the skin of the neck. The ani
mal's fury contrasted with its habitual
gentleness.
This fact seemed strange to Martin,
lie felt distrust of the communicative
stranger grow up him. He was
about to replace hw J apors in the sack
when the man, as if to see what was
the state of the weather, opened the
door.
. At' the same instant the wind swept
impetuously into the room, which it
tilled with a thick smoke, and lifting
the letters spread out upon the table
scattered them in every direction.
The postman uttered an exclamation
of anger.
" Bah ! it is nothing," said the person
who had caused the accident. "We
two will speedily gather them up."
And without heeding the refusal of
Martin, who wished to avoid his help
and do the work alone, he began to
search for the letters.
When they had collected all they
could find the postman carefully ex
amined them ; then he seemed worried,
as if he had not the full number.
"Are any missing?" aBked hia com
panion. "It appears to me that there was
another letter."
"Hah I either yon are deceived or
you forgot it at the, r.stotloe."
"That is quite "jsible."
He said to Liais if that it must bo so.
riuwtvt-r la xts!-.Tje.l lit hunt and
searched beneath the furniture. He
found nothing and concluded that his
memory had not served him faithfully,
for he watched bis companion's move
ments and it did not seem admissible to
him that he had stolen a letter. Never
theless he hastened to depart, regret
ting that he had entered the drinking
house. The man who had chatted with
him inspired in him a veritable repul
sion, and it watt his rule, because of the
habits of discretion which the postofflce
imposes upon all its agents, to keep at
a distance all who do not appear to him
worthy of confidence.
The storm had somewhat abated -its
fury, the rain soon ceased to fall and
bright sunshine lighted up the country
when the postman reached the nearest
village.
A woman was at the door of her house
awaiting his passage. She was still
young and, without possessing remark
able beauty, had a neat and sympa
thetio countenance.
" Monsieur Martin," said she lo the
dostman, " have you a letter for me ?"
" No, Madam Andre, I have not."
"That's strange; my husband should
have written to me to-day; yon cannot
imagine how much his silence troubles
tne.'
She grew pale and seemed scarcely to
have the strength to sustain herself.
The postman assisted her into the
house and handed her a chair upon
which she let herself fall. Two charm
ing children fixed on her sad and anx
ious looks.
" You will receive a letter to morrow,
Madam Andre," said Pere Martin; "the
delay of a day is easily explained: your
husband was disappointed, some unfore
seen business suddenly demanded his
attention and he missed the mail."
'No; I know him and cannot under
stand his silence. You are aware that
he departed two months , ago for the
city." Sorn os lb.otigiid J
wuicu luuuiiaeu 10 ucnug mm. in agreafc
deal 01 money; a small inheritance was
to be received. But all 19 concluded.
He sent me word that he would return
this evening; he hod made his arrange
ments to that end. To-morrow the farm
of La Mane is to be sold; he has decided
to purchase, either all or part of it.
It is an opportunity which will- never
again present itself, but I would prefer
a thousand times that he should miss it
to having him return without notifying
me."
"Why?"
" Because 6ome one bos wicked de
signs against kam and at night a ter
rible blow is Boon struck. You know
there are two routes by which to return
here ; one is longer than the other, but
safer. I am afraid lest be may return
by way of the Moulin-Brule, the more
so as there is some one to see in that
direction. I tremble at the mere
thought of it. If I only knew "
The postman strove to calm her fears,
but she shook her bead.
" You cannot think," resumed Fhc,
" what certain men are capable of when
they have a grudge against anybody."
Sho seemed to hesitate, and then
added :
- "If I tremble it is not simply be
cause my husband will have ti pass
through a dangerous spot with money
in his pocket, but because there is in
the district a wretch whose dearest wish
is to put five feet of earth between
them.
"This hatred dates from long ago.
When I was a young girl he wanted to
marry me, but he filled me with horror.
He has never pardoned me for having
repulsed his offers, and has enveloped
in the same animosity the man I pre
ferred to him. ' He hates Georges and
myself for being in easy circumstances
while he vegetates in want, as if honest
people were responsible for tho mis
takes of idlers and drunkards. This is
not all. A crime was recently com
mitted ; suspicions were aroused, but
the proofs were wanting. I possess
them, and tho guilty man knows it. Ahl
it is a dangerous secret for a woman
who has only children around her."
" Yesterday ho accosted me to sound
me; I did not hide from him my con
tempt. He saw clearly that he was un
masked in my eyes; he overwnelmed
me with infiults and threats. I took
the unfortunate notion to say to him
that soon, when my husband had re
turned, when be had a man before him,
he would be lees presumptuous. Oh I
if you knew what glances his eyes shot
at me, what an expression of hatred his
features wore I 1 know that often dur
ing the night he haunts the ruins of the
Moulin-Brule. If this man should dis
cover that my husband is to pass
through that place, I tell you, Monsieur
Martin, be is lost I
" What is the scoundrel's name ?"
"Jean Bruno. It is not astonishing
that you are unaoquamted with him, for
since his return to the district he has
not pubMcly shown himself."
The postman was silent. He remem
bered having heard the woman at the
drinking-house call the man he had met
there by that name. ' He asked himself
in consternation if the letter had not
been stolen from him, but he recalled
all the ciroumstances and banished this
supposition. He felt certain that the
epistle had not been in his sack; he re
assured himself and sought to reassure
the woman, yet he resolved to await
her husband's arrival at the chief town
of the district to advise him to be
prudent.
He hastened away and when he was
alone his fears regained possession of
him. He again began to doubt and
little by little was seized upon by a
terror he could not explain. He in
creuaed his pace and leaped over the
hedges aa.l ditches with unusual cim
l!t-it,:-. t'i..f itun-t. !v, U rout; 3 t t
day was exceptionally long, and the bad
weather in addition had considerably
delayed him.
He reached the postoffice a little
later than was his custom. The woman
who distributed the mails on being
consulted by him affirmed that he had
taken away a letter for Madam Andre.
One of her assistants confirmed this
declaration.
The postman was thunderstruck, ne
saw with fright the heavy responsibility
thrown upon him. His terrors aug
mented when he remembered that time
and again, at the moment of opening
the mail bags, a man had presented him
self, asking if there, was anything for
Madam Andre 1
He flew rather than ran to the office
of the coach which carried paspengers
from the nearest station on the railway
to the chief town. Georges Andre had
arrived, but had Bet out immediately on
foot for his village.
This sews gave Martin a violent
shock. The prospect of a catastrophe
for which he would be responsible
arose before him. He saw this man,
who had returned with joy in his heart,
encountering death at the threshold of
his home through his fault, and misfor
tune overtaking the widow and the
orphans. The darkest clouds troubled
his imagination.
He did not hesitate, and, without
taking time to enter his dwelling, started
off again. Those who saw him pass,
absorbed in his thoughts ' and noticing
no one around him, asked themselves
what grave affair could have caused this
breathless' haste on the part of a man
who must have come back trom his
round broken by fatigue.
After having passed over a foarth of
the distance he inquired concerning the
traveler and asked if he had been seen.
He had gone by somo time before.
The joy of return had . given wings to
hi8 jCe4t asJtbctb.Qnght.of misfortune
1- r. 1 ' . l 3 15 3 .1.-
yj i uverieu fuipincreaseu- ine speu
of the postman. There" was no longer
even the shadow of a doubt ; tho fated
man had taken the path which led
straight to the Moulin-Brule. Pere
Martin calculated that by passing over
another path, which, however, was
rough and dangerous, he could yet ar
rive before him. .
He hastened on and reached the fatal
spot when the night was already ad
vanced. The place was well fitted for
an ambuscade. There was a species of
cut through the rocks. On both sides
bushy trees formed an almost impene
trable shade ; rapidly moving clouds at
each instant veiled the moon, the wan
rays of which added to the sinister
character of the landscape.
He paused; amid the rustling of the
foliage agitated by tho wind he thought
he heard the sound of ' approaching
tootsteps; it was, doubtless, George
Andre, whom he had preceded only by
a few instants; he was about going to
meet him when the report of a gun
rang out and a bail struck him full in
the breast.
The assassin emerged from a neigh
boring thicket; but on approaching his
victim to finish and rob him he found
himself in the presence of a new actor
and vented his disappointment in a hor
rible oath; be had recognised George
Andre. The blade of a knife flashed
in his hand, but he was not allowed
time to use it a club dessended vigor
ously upon his head and felled him to
the ground.
A woman, distracted with terror, at
this moment threw herself on the post
man's body.
"Oh! how wretched I am 1" cried she.
" I foresaw it; he has killed him I"
Madam Andre had not been able to
subdue her uneasiness and, at the hour
she supposed her hnsband ought to ar
rive, she had come to wait for him; at
the report of the gun, she had run for
ward precipitately. -
"Jeanne," said her huBbend to her,
" reassure yourself; I am unhurt t"
It was not you ? Who then has he
assassinated ?"
They bent over Martin's body, and
recognized him in the moonlight which
at that instant illuminated his face and
uniform.
The husband and wife carried him to
their home, where be lived only twenty
four hours. He related how he had
allowed to be stolen from him the letter
in which Georges Andre had announced
his return, and how he had decided to
prevent, at any price, the consequences
of his negligence, even if he should be
compelled to offer his life in exchange
for that of the factor of a family whom
he had involuntarily helped to place in
peril.
Obscure victim of duty, he had added
another act to the list of those unknown
sacrifices which are made daily ..without
being encouraged iy the hope of any
recompense, without even having for
indemnification the remembrance they
should leave behind him.
The Cost or Living:.
The cost of living, says the Chicago
Tribune, has greatly increased during
the past twelve months, and this will
fall most heavy on the poor people.
The Tribune makes up the following
table of the increase in the price in the
wholesale markets of that city:
Ter cent of
increase.
Pork 7
Lard 52
liibs...., 24
Hotjs 80
W heat. 40
Ter cent, of
increase.
Cheese 4
21
I'otutoes 119
Appltis 100
fciiKr 100
Hay 9
Lumber it
0al 15
White fish V'J
Cora meal 00
Corn . . ,
Oats ...
live
linrly.
Hour . .
butler .
.. 68
.. 86
.. i
.. 46
.. 40
't ct l!.:
ir .r
t.
The Work of Years Spoiled by Rats.
ltats are destructive wretches, and
they have seldom used their powers as
effectively as they did in the case of
poor Thomas Edwards' colleolion of
insects. There are very few cases on
record of such untiring patience and
unwearied search as that displayed by
the unlettered Scotch naturalist. The
story of his many collections, the diffi
culties under which he made them, the
courage and perseverance that enabled
him to bear np under them, is more like
imaginative romance than reality.
Among the different collections was one
of insects. He had carefully pinned them
down in boxes, and laid them away,
nntil by dint of endless labor and writ
ing to other naturalists for information
he should be able to catalogue them
correctly; if he was too poor to buy the
sheets of figures necessary for his pur
pose and could not print, he got a lot
of old almanacs and multiplication
tables and cut the numbers out. It was
a long and tedious process, and when it
was at last completed the naturalist pro
ceeded to the garret where he had
stored the insects after preparing them.
There were twenty boxes, containing in
all 916 specimens. On lifting np the
first case he found that it had been en
tirely stripped of its contents. Horri
fied he tried the others. All were
empty; they contained nothing but the
pins that had secured them, and there
a leg or wing. The rats had done their
work! His wife, seeing the empty
cases, asked what he would do next ?
' ' Weel I" said he, it's an awful disap
pointment, but I think the best thing
will be to set to work and fill them
again 1" The work thus destroyed had
occupied four entire years.
It will be remembered that Audubon
had a somewhat similar experience with
rats. Upon leaving Kentucky he
placed his drawings of more than a
rthousand insects in the care of a friend,
to find upon hi 'J-etarnf,after a few
months that a piur'of Norway rats had
entered upon possession and gnawed
his precious drawings into bits of use
less papor. He, like Edwards, un
daunted by his loss, set off on fresh ex
peditions, and in three years had refilled
his portfolio.
Wheat and Corn Crops.
The wheat and corn crops for 1881
are given in a summary published by
Dradstreefg, of New York. A recapitu
lation of the returns shows a total
amcunt of yields of wheat in 1881 as
follows:
BusheU.
Western States .' 248,137,000
Pacifio coast 333,25,000
Colorado and Territories 12,000,000
New England 1.000,000
Middle States 84,800,000
Southern States 40,000,000
Total 368.9G2.0U
This is against 480,000,000 bushels in
1880, showing a loss of 111,038,000
bushels.
lktnrna of the corn crop are Ioes
favorable than those of wheat. Sum
marized the corn crop of 1881 is as fol
lows:
Bashelt.
Western 8tates 860,211,000
Sonthorn States 247,000,000
Middlo States 02,400,000
New England States , 7,000,000
Paciflo coast 2,500,000
Territories .- O.OOO.OJO
Total 1,193,641,000
The Southern States suffered largely
from the drought, and ths corn crop in
Kentucky reaches only 40,500,600 in
1881 against 86,039,000 in 1880. Ten
nessee reports a shortage of forty-eight
per cent. Virginia and Texas forty per
cant and nearly the same for West
Virginia. Altogether the corn crop of
the United States of istl Is short about
one-third of a usual yielJ.
CoftVe Taverns.
An English lady writes that coffee
taverns are not only great promoters of
temperance, but also pay their way as
investment. One of the best coffee tav
erns is in a town in Hertfordshire. The
window is painted half-way up, show
ing the words "Coffee Tavern," and
above hangs a small sign telling that
lodging can be hod, and nice, neat rooms
they are, with pretty frilled muslin cur
tains, fit for a lady's boudoir.
The large shop is fitted up with coun
ters for the huge tea and coffee urns;
small tables are dotted about, as in a
foreign restaurant, and at the side there
is a large table riven up to newspapers
and magazines; in the bar parlor there
is a bagatelle board.
If properly managed, the experience
of most of those who have established
coffee taverns over the country is, that
they are not only self-supporting, but
remunerative; and to bring this about
the eatables and drinkables must be of
the best, and the place rendered as at
tractive as possible. Such establish
ments are calculated to improve, raise
and refine the general character of the
people. A breakfast cup of tea or coffee
is sold at the rate of two cents, and a
slice of bread and butter for one ont.
The cheap coffee restaurants here charge
five cents, and the stuff is anything bat
inviting; the places, too, are dingy and
miserable-looking.
L:t the temperance people get up a
company to establish coffee taverns
Buch as they have in EDgland, and not
only will they advance the temperance
cause, but also obtain a good dividend
on tho investment.
If a boy gets on the wrong " track"
it shows that his father's "switch" has
cot had a fair chance.
isevf r mterrupt any conversation with a hack
t o 't'b; it create a tad impreoeiun, lo!t 1
iuu-.t a quarter of a dollar in a botti ul Iu.
) bull's C'ju.h P;-r.'p aai cure it.
An Unexpected Rise.
I stood on the porch at evening,
W101 tU a in wen1, silently do .vn,
And the Jane bug bright in tho starry night
Flew merrily through the town.
h, swoct were the gentle xephyrn
That blow from the balmy Sonth,
And red were the lips and sweet tL
That I took from the pretty mout ,
Her tiny waist was encirclod
By my arm so strong and trr,,
Said I, ".Whose ducky are you, love "
' Yours, " sha murmured, "and whoe nr
Oh, tho hallowed hoars of that eveu'u g 1
Oh, the cruel caprice of fatojl
Her father, unkind, came up from bel ino,
And fired me over the gate. ,
Chicioo 'iVibune.
IIUMOll OF THE DAY.
The artist's adieu to his picture Yot
be hanged.
A fool in high station is like a man in
a balloon. Everybody appears little
him, and he appears little tocvei-jinmy.
" Old age is coming npon me rapid
ly,", said an urchin, who was 6tailg
apples from an old man's garden, as ha
saw the owner coming furiously toward
him with a stick in his hand.
JoTmny had a little sister who was
Buffering with tho toothache, and her
mother put some camphor in it to eve
the pain. The young man watched tb e .
operation and then went out and to'd
the neighbors that his sister had moth
in her tooth and his mother put camphor
in her mouth to drive 'em away. SVcti
bentille Herald.
His name was Presto Magico, and ha
was giving his great entertainment in a
small village. " Will any one' in tho
audience let me have a five-dollar
note?" he asked, with his blandest
smile. The entertainment ended ab
ruptly, as the audience ro?o and left
with precipitate haste. It was more
than they could stand. Philadelphia
Sun.
The life of a queen is supposed to be
one long summer day, breathing the
fragrance of swaet peace and content
ment, without a cloud to mar the sun
shine, aud so forth. There never was a
greater error, The London World says
that a " Scotch piper plays under Queen
Victoria's window every morning at 8
o'clock." How the fiend manages to
escape after each serenade is a mystery.
NoirUknen Herald
A Shocking Story.
The St. James' Gazette recounts the
particulars of a fchocking crime which
:. as committed recently at a monastery
near the forest of Vranyo-Selo, in Hun
gary. This monastery, which was in
habited by eight monks who were be
lieved fb bo very wealthy, was attacked
by a band of brigands, but an alarm
having been given, a body cf soldieis
came to the rescue The brigands en
deavored to barricade themselves in the
monstery, and exchanged several shots
with the soldiers, who were more thon
an hour before they could force an en
trance When they did get in they
found the monks lying gagged on the
floor, but could find no trace of the
brigands. After the monks had been
set at liberty they informed their de
liverers that the brigands had escaped
by an underground passage leading from
the cellar into tho forest. The soldiers
at once searched for the pavnge, while
the monks went off to the, chape to give
thanks for their delivery. The soldier t
having explored tho cellar, and having
failed to find the door of the passage,
came back to ask one of the monks to act
as their guide; but they were nowhere
to be seen. In the course of further in
vestigations, however, they found tho
dead bodies of the eight monks in a
small room, and the mystery was then
solved. Tho brigands, seeing that they
could not escape, had murdered the
monks and hidden their liodics in this
room, having first stripped them of their
clothes and put them on themselves.
They then gagged one another to de
ceive tho soldiers, and while the latter
were searching in the cellar had mat'e
off to their fastnesses in tho forett.
Duration of Life.
Baron G. F. Kolb, a German statist:
cian, has recBtitly published the result k
of his researches upon the duration of
fife in countries where rtcDrdsof this
character aro kr pt with some approach
to accuracy. His figures show conclu
sively that every advance in healthfnl
and profitable labor, iu morality and in
useful knowledge, increases the lon
gevity of the people. Baron Kolb gives
statistics which are startling in the
enormous difference of the mortality
rates they disclose; for they thow that
while among infants suckled by their
mothers 18.2 per cent, die during the
fivst year, no fewer than eighty per
cent, die among those brought up in in
stitutions. The influence of the anxiety
of providing for b re subsistence is a
potent factor in shortening the lives of
the laboring classes, for tho baron finds
that, taking a thousand well-to-do per
sons and the same number of poor per
sons, athe end of five years there will
remain of the prosperous 1)13, of tha
poor only 655, a difference which goes
on increasing, until at the end of seventy
years the numbers will be respectively
2:St and sixty-five. The average dura
tion of life among the prosperous he
puts at fifty years; of tho poor at thirty
two years
Bituminous coal is produced in '-7
counties in Pennsylvania, and the' t
mate out put -f i mr '
t .1.3.