I
orrst iirpcSlirca
i rvnwnr.D ivrnr wkdnbuday, bt
J. E. WENK.
Ollioe in Braoarbauch & Co.'s Building,
rXM fiTIlEET. - TIONE3TA, PA.
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Vol. XV. No. 15. TIONESTA, PA, WEDNESDAY, JULY 12, 1882. $1,50 Per Annum.
PL
Our One Life.
Tis not for a roan to trifle, lifo in brlof,
And din it here
Our 8R0 la but the falling of a loaf,
A dropping tar.
We liave no time to nporl away the bourn;
All niUHt be eamoet in a world like ours.
Not many lives, but only ono have wo
One, only one.
How eacred should thatono Ufa ever be,
That narrow np'n
Day artor day flllod tip with bloseod toil,
Hour after honr still bringing in new spoil.
Our being Is no shadow of thin air,
No vacant droam,
No fable of those things that novor wero,
But only sncrn.
Tls full of meaning as of mystery,
Though Btrange and solemn may that moaning
bo.
Our sorrows are no phantoms of the night,
No idle tale,
No cloud that floats along a sky of light
On summer gain.
Thoy aro the true realitios of earth;
Frionds and companions, even from our birtlu
Oh, life below bow brlof, "and poor, and sad I
One heavy sigh I
Oh, life above, how long, how fair, and glad I
An end loss Joy I
Oh, to bo dona with daily dying here
Oh, to begin the living in yon sphoro.
Oh, day of time, how dark ! Oh, day and earth
IIow dull your hue 1
Oh, day or Christ, bow bright I Oh, sky and
cariU
Mado fair and now I
Come, bottor Kdnn, with thy fresher green I
Come, brighter Balem, gladdon all the sceno 1
Bonar,
MY LUCKY HIT.
I like change; I delight in the un
known and unexpected, io contrasts and
adventures. I hud been "out" several
feasout, and knew by heart the deadly,
lively routine of a winter in the city.
Therefore I was upending the winter in
the mountains of Maryland with Mar
garet Bantings,
Margaret hd been a "belle, a beautv
and an heiress," a wife and a mother.
Bbe was now only the last Her band
some husl and had carried her awaj
from her rt, worn out her beauty.
Bpent her fortune, and died in time tc
rave his memory, at least She shut
herself away from the world to monrii
for him in singleness of heart, and givt
her time to his children.
It was something of a surprise whet
she wrote to me, once hor intimate, and
begged me to come to her fo the nex'
four months. She had quietly and
Btoadilv refused all advances for so Ion
that wo had gTown indifferont to ) e
movements, and seldom spoke of her,
eioept to pity her changed fortunes ami
her infatuution. When the letter cam
I forgot her rt jnction of intended kind
nesses in the quite selfibh idea of sorno
thing new. It was not until I saw her,
Eale and sweet and sad, that I felt for
er any of the old-time love, and re
ftliaed there might be mote in my life
with her than the mere escape from tire
some sameness or the rapidly waning
pleasures cf novelty.
She lived in a small house on the
mountain side a curious, rambling,
one-storied structure, with an attic, in
whioh we slept, and old little porches
between the downstairs rooms, where
they jutted out or lapped over each
other.
Bbe "kept her carriage" a light
rockaway and a steady horse ; and her
servants, one old woman, a half-grown
girl and a young man.
Everything around her was neat, but
plain in the extreme. Society there
was none. The few farmhouses scat
tered here and there along the valley
were only shelters for their hard-work
ing, poorly repaid owners. No one had
time for mere courtesies or means for
other than pure hospitality food and
warmth lor those who absolutely needed
them.
She was the "great lady" of the
country, and went to and fro in a sort of
stately exolusiveness, which enabled
her to devoto every moment to her
little ones a boy and a girl. I cld
not wonder she had at last grown restive,
and reaohed out a longing hand for
some kindred touch.
We had a very pleasant time together.
It was eo delicious to do jut as one
pleased, and take up only snob interests
as one chose. I read a good deal, and
walked, and drove and, above all,
talked.
There was so much to tell of my
world, onco Margaret's as well. And
there were some things to hear in the
quiet hours when the depths of our
natures were reaohed. I began to
believe, after all, that " love is enough,"
for Margaret had had that, and minded
nothing else. She had not been at all
deceived as to her husband's real self,
and did not attempt to deceive me.
They had simply loved each other,
each with the best that ?as in them;
and if his best had beon poor enough,
it wjs his, and she asked no more.
One night we had an adventure that
buglet-ted the charms of a more civil
ized slito of society, as well as its draw
back?. The children were in bed, the
servants upstairs with them the man
went to his own home at night and we
were reading in the east room.
The silence was profound. The very
fire was noineless. Suddenly we raised
our heads with one impulse und gazed
steadily into each other's ejo-i.
'What is that?" whisicrod Margaret,
after a moment that seemed an age.
"Some one at the long room win
dow,'' I answered, almost breathlessly.
The long room ran off at right angles
from the cast room; the dining-room
branched off from the long room, paral
lel with the east room.
Between thorn was a covered porch.
Each had three or four windows and
two or three doors. There was not a
shutter to the first nor a bolt to the
last. And we were a houseful of women
unarmed and unprotected.
The noise oontinued. There was no
doubt of its meaning. Some one was
srying the windows of the long room,
oteadily, carefully, persistently.
To reach the stairs and join the rest
of the household wo must either pass
through the long room, all uncurtained
and open to inflection from thrGe Bides,
or cross the porch to the dining-room,
thus going out into the black night
where we knew not what danger lurked
unseen, but fearfully noar.
We sat in terror too deep for words,
and then, as with ono thought rose,
slipped quietly through the door on to
the porch, sped across it and threw
ourselves breathlessly into the dining
room. "Oh, Fan 1" gasped Margaret, "were
you ever bo glad in all your life be
fore?" " Never I" I answered. " I thought I
would never reach that door I Oh.Jwhat
can .we do."
" Let ns ask Betty."
In the same noiseless manner we
crept upstairs and roused Betty in her
attic. She was an enormous, dingy old
creature, who looked able to protect
herself and a soore of women younger,
fairer and less ponderous. But she
was as great a coward as either of us,
and less caution?.
The young girl awoke calmly, and
instantly got out of bed, and com
menced dressing herself with all speed,
and no words.
" What are you going to do, Kitty ?''
asked her mistress.
" I'm a-goin' to see ef there is a man
bout," sho answered, quietly leavinor
the room.
I followed her, and together, holding
each other tight by the hand, we crept
lown the stairs again, and softly
opened the door of the long room on
he tiny entry. The four gray spaces
in the blackness clearly defined the
window, and at first we could see
othing e'se. But there was the noise
nd Kitty's fingers trembled. Present
y we saw. A man was bending for
vard at the end window, with a regular
low movomnt, that explained the
iound perfectly, tie was turning the
ittndle of some boring instrument just
inder the catch.
We fled precipitately.
" He's ther," announced Kitty, " an'
'ie's a comin' in."
Betty eroaned. It was curius, but
he knowledge that no one could hear
i cry had the effect of suppressing
them. Under any other circumstanoes,
vbere there was the faintest shadow oi
i hope that it would have brought us
'ielp, I am sure each and all of us
vculd have screamed lustily. But we
knew our danger and its hopelessness.
We were awed from the first.
The mountains had been gaining an
evil reputation for some time as the re-
sot to! the border ruffians of the war.
Margaret's mode of life, in its differ
ence from their own, had long passed
for the outcome of enormous wealth in
the eyes of the valley people, and her
tame una spread across the rid go.
Kitty put it into words in her usual
terse manner:
"This comes of yer bij silver teapot,
.his Mattings.
" Oh, Kitty, huBh I And it is only
plate. Oh, I wish I could throw it out
of the window to him."
"II wo only had a horn," I moaned,
" or a pistol."
"There's the dinner-horn," cried
Kitty.
"Can you fire a pistol, Fan?" cried
.Margaret.
"I cau do anything," I answered
nanticaily. " Anything but stand here
and wait for that wretch. Kitty where
is the born
"Out to the barn."
"Oh, you little goose 1"
" And the pistol is downstairs in
Bertie's tool-chest on tho porch,"
signed Margaret.
"There is one, then? Oh, on the
porch 1"
I think the few seconds that followed
were the longest, the most terrible, the
most heroio of my lifo. I have always
felt proud of myself when I recall the
sinking of my heart, and the wonderful
victory over my natural and excusable
cowardice that brief struggle brought
about.
"I will go and get it," I said, very
quietly. "Tell me exaotly where it is."
"Oh, 1 cannotl xou will have to take
a candle!"
Could anything be worse? Go out
into the night with my very life in
my hand, and a light to show where
I was t But I was wrought up to it.
" very well, give me tne candle. Kitty,
come down and stand ready to lock the
door, it any one comes."
Margaret began to cry and Betty to
moao, but neither of them uttered a
word.
Kitty and I again crept down the
stairs. I had an unlighted candle and
some matches, which really was an after
thought lull oi renel, since it allowed
me to slip unperceived through the
dining-room door, and to reaoh the
chest under the welcome cover of dark
ness.
The night was profoundly dark and
still. I remember distinctly the deeper
shadow of the mountain against the
gloomy sky just over my head as I
paused for one biiet second to draw
breath and steady my hand. Then
knelt down, raised the lid of the chest
struck a match, and looked in before
applying it to the candle.
The pistol was ready to my hand, and
I recollected that only the day before
iiertio had found it somewhere up
stairs and carried it down in high glee.
1 seized it and rushed in to Kitty a
welcome presence. Margaret bad joined
her, and had come to her senses.
"It is not loaded. Fan," she said
softly, " but I have tho cartridges here,
lie is still at work. Light the candle
and slip them in, and then we can fire
from the long room door."
"Do you mean me to shoot t'heman?"
I gasped.
"No, only to fire at him. You'll
never hit him, but I wish I could I"
I followed her advice. I was not an
adept, but I knew enough to load a
modern breechloader. Then we put
out the candle, softly opened the door
into the entry and the opposite door
into the long room.
Margaref. and Kitty stood close to me.
but at my back ; the man was just rais
ing the window.
The next instant the thunder of
heaven seemed ringing in my ears
mingled with the crash of broken glass
and a wild, terrible cry, half-oath, half
prayor, followed by a dull, sickening
thud.
A very demon of rage took possession
of me. All fear was gone.
I dashed across the room, and, one
after another, in frenzied succession,
fired the remaining barrels of the revol
ver out into the night through the shat
tered window. Then I turned and fled
upstairs after Margaret and Kitty, who
were leaning as fur as possible from the
attic-window, and screaming for help at
the top of their lungs.
It was nearer than we hoped. ..When
Kitty paused to take breath before a
fresh outburst, there were audible
through the thinner piping of Margar
et's cries a violent rattling and rapping
on the door below us.
Kitty only added greater volume to
her shouts; but, nevertheless, I heard
distinctly a clear anl full haloo that
brought comfort to my heart.
" Oh, do bush t I screamed, shaking
them vigorously. "There's a man down
stairs. Listen ! .
"Who's there?" piped Margaret,
musically, for all the quaver in her
tones.
"What is the matter, ladies?" an
swered a gentleman's voice. "What has
happened ?"
"Oh, for the love of heaven I" burst
forth Betty; "we're all murdered in our
beds?"
"Is there anything wrong?" impa
tiently reiterated the voice.
"Yes, there is," I called in my turn
' Who are you, and I will come down?"
"I am Professor Jouvain."
"From Ralston I" exclaimed Mar
rret. "I thought I knew the voice.
Oh, thank God I"
She sank crying on the floor by the
children's cot and I hurried awtty. By
the time I opened the east room door,
where the lamp was still bright and the
dre glowing as when we sat down to
our books and a quiet evening, the pro
fessor had been joined by some of the
neighbors. "
The ringing shots had echoed far and
with terrible meaning through the quiet
valley. There was the rapid beat ol
running footsteps, coming nearer and
nearer, to right and loft, as we stood
(aoiug each other.
The professor was tall, dark and
handsome. I saw at a glance, as he
stepped into the ciro le of light, that ho
was another sort from any 1 had seen of
late or ever
He was wonderfully ccol and calm
the quietude of strength and gentle
ness. Involuntarily I bent toward him,
relieved, soothed, thankful, at rest.
He drew my hand through his arm, and
led me at onoe to the large, low couch
near the nre.
" Sit down, and tell us all about it."
ho raid, smiling pleasantly. "You are
chilled from excitement. What has
frightened you? Who fired those
shots r
"I did. Ob, I shot a man ! Do you
think he can be dead ?"
"Dead I" cried one of tLe farmers,
with a jolly laugh. "My lawd, miss,
I'll bet he ain't dead, ef you p'inted it
at him."
I heard them all laugh ; I saw the
professor's grave smile ; but I did not
mind it There was more behind than
they knew. The cry and the fall eame
back to me with terrible meaning.
"Oh, but he was hurtl It was the
first shot. Oh, somebody, please, go !
He was at the window of the long room,
on the other porch."
" This way I" cried Kitty, openingthe
door into the long room and taking up
the lamp.
They all followed her exoept the pro
fessor; I candidly own I held him and
would not let him go.
" Oh, don't leave me I I am so fright
ened. It was so terrible 1"
" But it is all over now," he said,
gently. " You must not lose your self
control when you have been so brave.
I must go now. They are calling me.
Don't move I I will come bock and
tell you what it means."
There was no need for him to come
back. I heard plainly what they said
to him, although their voices were curi
ously subdued and muffled.
" She's right, professor. She hit him.
lie's a goner 1" said one.
"Laid him out like a log !" exclaimed
another.
"It's Sam Prout," said third.
And then it suddenly rushed upon
me in its fall meaning the thing I had
done, and they were putting it into
words, uncouth but freighted with eter
nal woe to a lost soul.
A sense of fear and horrorl had never
conceived came upon mo, a wild despair
that crushed me, and from which I sud
denly slipped away into a vast blank.
When I saw Margaret's pale face clone
to mine, and felt some one's hands
moving across my forehead, and some
one's strong grasp on my hands, I knew
that I had fainted for the first time in
my life, and I knew why.
" Oh, Margaret !" I cried, faintly.
But it was the professor who an
swered me, bending over mo, and cheer
ing me with his voice and eyes.
" The man i all right, Miss Fannie.
You did hit him, but he was only
stunned."
"Then I am safe?"
"You are, certainly. And quite a
heroine. As soon as you aro able, if
you wish, you shall see your prize,
although he is not beautiful to look
upon."
Margaret kissed and petted me for a
few minutes longer, and the professor
held my hands and chafed them me
chanically. I was myself again, and a
very merry, light-hearted self I felt
after that terrible burden of blood and
death.
I looked up at the professor and
laughed. He loosed my hands sudden
ly, and stood up very straight.
" Will you come now and see Sam
Prout in the flesh ?" he said, with an
effort to appear unembarrassed.
We went. The farmers were keeping
guard over poor Sam in the dining
room, while awaiting the constable's
arrival.
He was sitting in a great chair, lean
ing his head against the chimney-piece,
a very much used-up man. There was
a good deal of blood about him, and his
head was bound up pretty tidily, if not
scientifically. He looked pale and
dazed and wretched, and 1 felt quite
ashamed of myself for the ruin I had
wrought.
What creatures of the moment most
women are, to be surel
We only peeped in at the doo for a
few seconds, and then went back to the
east room. Of course we were too ex
cited to think of rest The professor
had been thrown too close to our inner
lives to seem strange, and we sat over
the fire chatting as cozily as friends of
years. He told us how he came to be
on hand, riding home from a lecture in
a neighboring town in order to com
plete some work at the college early
the next day (and which, by-the-bye,
he seemed to have forgotten), and we
told him every incident and throb of
feeling during our experience.
We saw Sam Prout off in state, and
then went to bed.
The professor and a young iarmor
from the adjoining place volunteered to
remain until morning, and were made
comiortable beforo the fire in tho cast
room.
Left to himself, the professor remem
bered his task, and did se t off at day
break, leaving his aditux for us with
Kitty. Bat he came back that after
noon, and Margaret invited him to stay
to tea, because ho had missed his break
fast. He did not refuse tho invitation.
That was the beginning of a gay
season. We were the belles of the
county, and had admiring and awe
struck visitors from all quarters.
How many times we went through
the recital of our night of terror, I dread
to think. Every nail-holo and paint
scratch about that window remains
photo2raphed upon my mental vision.
Then there came the trial of Sam
Prout, and we had a court roene, in
which the professor and I seemed to
dgure largely, to the great delight of
the publio and bis serene enjoyment. I
wa very broadly complimented for my
bravery and prompt action, and Sam
was sentenced and sent off to jail.
"Now, Fan," said my father, who had
come dow,n to see me through the or
deal, "I intend to take you home with
me, my fair lady 1 I am inclined to
think Sam wa9 not the only victim of
your night's shooting, and the other
may prove fatal. If it does, youwill be
beet out of the way."
" What do you mean ?" I asked,
somewhat faintly.
" You know very well what I mean.
You are inclined to be soft-hearted to
ward tho sufferer, and I am not. Yon
shall not marry Professor Jouvain, if I
can help it."
" Well, yon cau't,"I said, coolly.
My father and I were "cronies " al
ways, and said what we pleased to each
other.
He looked at me intently, got up, ad
justed his glasses and then turned me
round for inspection.
"I think you mean it," he said, slow
ly. "And I had such a splendid chance
for you in New lork I
" I have had two or three myself," I
replied. " But they were nothing to
the professor. He is a man after my
heart."
I caw my father's face redden with
mingled embarrassment, irritation and
amusement, and 1 turned nastily.
The professor stood just behind ns
and had heard every word.
I covered my face with my hands in
shame and confusion.
" Mr. Crawford," began the piofes-
sor, instantly and coolly, "it will not
surprise you if 1 enter upon this sub
ject, since your daughter has broached
it?"
"No, sir; not at all. Nothing sur
prises me now !'' said my father, as
coolly.
I felt an arm, strong but infinitely
tender, take me into its kindly shelter
"Your daughter's expression of her
feelings natnrally prepares you for the
acknowledgment of mine," continued
tho professor.
"Naturally," interjected my father,
"Sho is the one woman of the world
to me" here the arm trembled a littlw,
but held me close. "If you will pive
her to me, I shall devote myself to
mskintr her happy."
" I think you have made a very fair
beginning toward a snccessful ending,"
said my father, grimly. "Possession
bring nine points of the law. I need
make no merit of graceiully ceding the
tenth. At all events, she is evidently
yours."
And my father walked away, carefully
closing the door behind him.
Of course, there could be but one
ending to my story. I have been the
professor's wife these five years, and I
am more than ever convinced that "love
is euough."
But I have never owned before that
the professor, like Sam Prout. was
brought down unexpectedly. When I
fired that candid oonfession at my
father half in jest, half in earnest pro
test against his objections to the pro
fessorI had no idea it would strike
home. Until that moment the profes
sor had never spoken to me of his feel
ing for me, and L was not at all sure
of it.
How can a girl lie sure of such a thing
until she is told? And what would
have become of me had he met the
acknowledgment in any other way?
But he did not It was all right us
it turned out, and I don't care in tho
least when he laughs at my "lucky hit."
False Eyes.
Most people are under the impres
sion that the artificial eye is in the
form of a globe, and that to have it in
serted it is necessary that the entire
eyeball Ehould be removed. But this is
not the case. In very few instances is
the eyeball completely destroyed, and
to cut it out to make room tor a false
eye would be an operation equally dan
gerous as useless. The artificial eye is
merely a thin shell of silica that
can be inserted under the
ejelidsby the individual himself. It
is held in position by the contraction
of the lids, and is moved about by the
optic muEoles pretty mnoh in the same
manner as the natural eye. No dis
agreeable sensation is felt by the wearer,
and, as far as appearance goes, it would
be difficult to detect anything out of
the common, to such a degree of per
fection has the manufacture reached.
There is a great difficulty in match
ing ees, as tho contraction and dila
tion of the pupil when exposed to sun
light or on entering a room, causes tho
eye, of course, to assume a darker hue
than it really has, owing to the differ
ence in the density of the pupil. The
only way in whioh this can be remedied
to have the artificial eye several
Hhades darker in color than the natural
ye, a. d this is invariably the practice.
The nrst thing a man, after getting
m artificial eye does, is to ask every
friend what they thought of it; whether
it matched in color and size his other
one, and so forth, and tho friend, glad
to have a chanoe of airing an opinion,
after a slight examination declares the
color wrong and probably the eye a
misfit in every way. The purchaser then
comes running back to the shop and
storms and rages until he is assured
tuat it is owing to a natural phe
nomenon that hi9 eye assumed a
slight change in size and color in
the open air, and so on. A comical
tide of tho picture is when the party
who is anxious to lemedy his defect
cinies attended by, say his family and a
few others ; these collect aronnd him,
and each perhaps selects a particulai
eve from the case nnd declares that it
is just the thing. The argument waxes
hot and heavy and the inevitable ccn
elusion is that the unfortunate man is
compelled to go away with an eye un
suitable in many respects, und which he
is only too ready to come back and
change a few davs later.
While on the subject of eyes, it may
be said there is scarcely anything more
absurd than the practice usually cur
rent of going to Europe for ophthalmio
advice whenever it is req aired. Amer
ican oculists have long sinca earned for
themselves a world-wide reputation by
their wonderful skill lu treating this
disease, and besides understand the
peculiar phases which are the product
of a different climate far better than
their European compeers could possi
bly do.
Mistaken Kindness.
Mormon wagons took sunflowers along
with them on thur way to Utah, and
Iowa farmers have had a hard time
fighting tho pest. A single Scotch
thistle planted in Victoria the Scotch
men there had a congratulatory dinner
over it twenty years ago has oovered
tens of thousands of acres and been the
destruction of farms. The scattered
grain emptied from the bags of Ger
man troop ships in the Revolution
knocked millions eff the value of cur
grain crop for all time to ocme by bring
ng the Hessian fly. A careless man set
out a French grape-cutting a few years
ago with phylloxera on it, and the pest
is now sprinkled along the I'aoifio coast
creeping inluud. Its ravages in France
have cost $-100,000,000. A man with a
taste for peppeiy greens planted water
cress in New Zealand, and the little
plant has spread so thai the local leg
islature has to appropriate a round sum
yearly to improve the water cress out
of existence and the water courses. A
kindly, misguided man brought over to
New York a basketful of sparrows not
twenty years ago, and the little wretches
have already driven bulf our song birds
into the woods, lu South America the
eatuo thing was done, and the birds are
cleaning out the fruit crop.
Our Manufacturing ('itics.3
The statistics of manufactures, as
returned for the tenth census, show
New York to bo the greatest manufno-,
luring city in tho Union. Philadel
phia, which has hitherto enjoyed that
pre-eminence, is now relegated to the
second place, though its capital invest
ed in manufactures, 8170,000.000, is
(5,000,000 more than is credited to
New York city. In number of estab
lishments New York has 11,162 and
Philadelphia 8,877. The amount paid
in wapes d urine the census year was:
New York, $93,370,000; Philadelphia,
$60 000,000. The value tf the mate
rials used in the industries was: New
York, 8275,000,000, and Philadelphia,
$187,000,000. The value of tho prod
ucts was: Nrw York, 8448,000,000;
Philadelphia, 8304.591,000.
I he largest single item of manufac
ture in New York is that of men's
clothing, the product of which for 1880
is valued at 860,798,000. The wages
paid in their manufacture were 810,
200,000. The value of the product in
the manufacture of women s clothing
for the same period is 818,930,000.
Viewing only the value of the product,
meat packing is the seoond largest in
dustry in New York city, its product
for 1880 being 829,297,000. "Printing
and publishing" shows a product of
821,696,000. The cigar product is
$18,347,000. That , of refined lard is
814,758,000, and sugars and molasses,
refined. 811,330,000.
In Philadelphia the largest single
product of manufacturo in value is
sugar and molasses refined 824,294,
1)20 The industry having the largest
capital invested is that of woolen goods,
with a capital of $11,752,900, and whose
product in 1S80 was 821,350,000. The
value of the product in the manufacture
of men's clothing is 818.500,000; that of
cotton goods, $16,350,000; carpets,
$14,263,000; drugs and chemicals, $11,
804,000; machinery, 89,684,900; boots
and shoes, $9,034,000; worsted goods,
$8,327,000; hosiery and knit goods.
$7,683,000; printing and publishing,
$6 834,000 leather, dressed skin,
86,741,000.
The third manufacturing city is Chi
cago, with 3,479 establishments, having
a capital cf $64,000,000, paying $33,
000,000 in one year in wages, and whose
product in 1880 was $241,000,000. Tfio
leading manufacturing industry is meat
packing, whose product in the census
year was $85,000,000. Brooklyn is the
fourth city, with 5,089 establishments,
paying $27,000,000 year's wages, and the
value of whose products is $169,000,000.
The leading article is sugar and molas
ses, refined, the pioduct of which in
1 880 was $59, 71 1, 000. Boston ranks fifth
on the basis of the value of the manu
factured product, it being $123,000,000;
men's clothing and sugar and molasses,
refined, being each $16,01)0,000. The
sixth city is St. Louis, with a product
f $104,000,000, of which $13,759,000 is
flouring and grist mdl products. Cin
cinnati is the seventh manufacturing
city, its product in 1880 being $94,000,
000. The manufacture of men's clothing
brought $13,873,000 of this and meat
packing $11,614 000. Baltimore comes
number eight, with a product of $C5,
000,000, the larsrest item of whioh is
men's clothinpr, $9,446,000.
Pittsburg is the ninth in rank of
manufacturing cities in the vilae of its
product which in 1880 wai $74,000,000.
It has $50,000,000 of capital invested
in manufactories, which exooeds that of
St. Louis, Cincinnati, Boston and Bal
timore, and makes Pittsburg in that
respect the fifth manufacturing city of
the Union, those ranking it being in
order Philadelphia, New York, Clrcago
and Brooklyn. The number of Pitts
burg establishments is 1,071 ; the
men employed aro 31,551 : the
wages paid in 1880 were $16,918,
420, and the value of the materials used
was $41,201,000. The largest item of
manufacture is iron and steal, the prod
ucts of which aro $35,490,000. The
next is glass, with a product of $5,000,
000. After Pittsburg the cities rank in
the order of the value of their manu
facturing products as follows : Newark,
tenth ; Jersey City, eleventh ; Cleve
land, twelfth ; Buffalo, thirteenth;
Providence, fourteenth : Milwaukee,
fifteenth ; Louisville, sixteenth ; New
Orleans, seventeenth, and Washington
City, eighteenth.
President Arthur's Letters.
President Arthnr, it is stated, receives
600 letters every day Allowing V'ra to
give each letter one minute's tinre, ten
presidential hours of the twenty-four
are accounted for. A famous English
man of a century ago, who suffered from
the same kind of inundation, used
pleasantly to say that one-third of the
letters he received were answered, that
another third answered themselves, and
that the other third got no answers of
any kind. It is to be supposed that
the President follows the precedent of
the Englishman, who borrowed his
practice from a royal philosopher of tho
lassie time s.
Land la F-ugbiud.
Lmd in corn-srowing parts of Eng
land is fulling off in value. .1 small es
tate in one of tho eastern counties,
wlr'ch four years ago was valued at
$125,000, waa put up at auction thre.)
weeks BkO and the highest price offeied
for it was $15,000. It comprises 490
acros, and wis bought in by the trus
tees. It is said that in the saaiti part of
England much arable laud ii running
to wabte for want of capital to pay for
tho labor it requires. No farming ci
cept grazing and dairy farming is id
now to pay for tho outlays.
v