RATES OP ADVERTTSINQ. fl ft is pactum) stxbt WkPitssroAT, n J. E. WENK. 'Omos In Braearbaugh A Co.'i Bnlldlng, "ELM" STREET, - TIONBSTA, PA, TEHM3, 81.no X'lCIt VIS Alt. No subscriptions receivod for a shorter period than three months. Corrospninlpiieo solicited from all parts of the country. No notice will betaken of anonymous Qomiuunloationa. if One Bqnare, one Inch, one faiwrttta. ft N One Kqnare, one inch, one month....... IM One fcqoare, one Inch, thra moBtbaM 00 One Square, one inch, on year.... II 00 Two Squares, one year. ...... 14 0 Quartnr Column, one year. ............ M W Half Column, one year..... OaeColtunnloiMy..MMM.....MM 10 Legal notice at est.. Wished rafts. Marriages and death notice gratf. All bill for yearly advarUsemanta on Bested quarterly. Temporary edvertiawnearts gnaat b paid for in advanos. Job work, cash on delirerr. M Vol, XV. No. 18. TIONESTA, PA, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 2, 1882, $1.50 Per Annum. (Ik .0$U0l H Chilstlan Roth's Story. Stuttgart, May, 1RS2.J I've called, Mr. Con.nl, this morning, to auk, If yon please, yonr advice On a matter that give, ma great worry' Let's hear It (want money I know)." Here's my citlEen-paper ("All right")! wa. born In the Bchwarswalrier Kreis, At Bchrambcrg, and went to America forty-five Tear. ago. Tea, I'm near eeventy now, and you ice that my atep la nnatoady rienty of trouble, I tell yon I aettled in North iniooin. And there, ever alnce, I've been working and lav ing np, to that already I've got a nice farm, Mr. Con.nl, that goes-by-and bye to my boya. IIow many children T Thcre'i four, three boya and a glrL We've had aeven ; Hut when the war catncalong, my William and Carl marched away. . Both of them fell on the field, and last winter the good Lord In iieavon Called home our dear little Minnie ahe'a tweivo year old to-day. Tea, the old woman la living. She there with the boya on the place. And onr Lina keep boose for them all Next apring tbeH be Ju.t twenty-four. She's the handsomest girl In the comity; thcre'i sunshine all over her face; I ean hear even now her iweet voice aa ahe told me farewell at the door. Why I left T Well, perhaps Mr. Conaul, twere bet ter the truth weren't told. Bnt so matter It waan't my fault. My old woman and I bad a fight. Phe I lick and cant work any more, and the'i Idle We're both getting old ; Bo Ihe'i cross, and will have it that I'm always wrong and that ihe'i alwaya right. It haunt been always that way. In the day. when we worked for oor bread And badnt a dollar laid by In the bank, ahe and I were all good And bappy together; bnt alnce w began to be get ting ahead . She baa tried to be boai over me, and I didn't In tend that ahe should. And when onr poor dear Minnie died, I had hoped that the light would die, too, V Bnt not It lived on Juat the lame, and one day, about four weeki ago, The old woman acnt out for a lawyer, and then, for the first time, I knew That ahe wanted to aepnrate from me from nu, who have borne wit h her io. And the boya they all tried to make peace ; the would Hasten to naught that they .aid, Bnt my Una stood op by my aide though ahe spoke not, tw eaay to iee, Aa ah put her iweet anna ronnd my neck and reetcd ber beautiful head On my breaat, that her dear heart waa full of the tendcreat pity for me. And I laid: "My Christina, we've labored and atrugglcd together till now ; Onr children are grown, and yon want na to aepa i - rate, now we are old T No lawyer can part na, Christina, no lawyer can aever onr vow, Bnt I'll leave yon and go forth alone on my way ..through the rain and the cold." Then my poor Lina cried, and ahe bade me re flect, and the boya they aaid " Stay I" And I pauicd for a moment and looked at .Chria tlna ahe .aid not a word. One word would have kept me. Bnt no, it came not, and I hurried away. And my Una's iweet voice, "Oh, dear father, come hick," wai the last that I heard. And o I have wandered back here to the acenea of my childhood and youth ; Have atood by the grave of my father and mother ' have seen the old home On the hillside at Schramberg and yet, Mr. Conaul, to tell yon the truth, I find that I cannot be happy while far from the loved ouea I roam. For my eweet Una'a worda, " Ob, dear father, come back," alwaya ring In my calk, And I'm going thli day ; but for fear there should come on the journey some 111, There'a no telling, yon know,' what might happen, perchauce, to a man of my yearn, I have come, Mr. Conaul, this morning to ark yon to draw up my will. And I want you to make my old woman entitled to all that I've got In case of my death. After all I can trust her to do what Is fair By the children In caao she survives me. Just say that I. Christian Roth " What! Is your name Christian Roth f Uerc'a a letter ad dressed to you here In my care." A letter ! My Una's handwriting, and postmarked at Saott, Illinois; Here, quick, let me read It: "Dear father, my mother Implores you to come. Fhe tenderly aski your forgiveness ; and now, she and I and the boys Are lovingly waiting your coming, and eager to welcome yon home." Gg L. Catlin. tf IT. 99 FBOM THE GERMAN OF ALEX V. ROBERTS. The original of this translation, by Mrs. Rosalie Ortheiler, of Albany, N. Y., ia a prize etory written for the Vienna A llqtnwine Zeitung. There were seven hundred and fifty contribu tions banded in, and of these Mr. Kofoerts' "It" took the first prize, 300 florins. The Judges were home of the most enlightened men of German 1 literature Bauernt'eld, Laube, Gross and s V&l others. IteturnO; from business trip, I entered m,j, wife'a boudoir, and found her knee V before a low-chair, on which ButcTPy-taby with large, round and won eyes. She got up and came ryJ Ve in her silken robe da cbambr , me. She reached out her baf 11 greeted me not more heart i'f accna more cmally tnan we were days. to greet eao otlier in tnoeet, .'hete a "If e child "" nl e PoinunB totl-r What?"'. " before r. Bne BtooPed JU't cJobo t!jittle stranger, held a bidC J bU turnW little nPtarned Uo0 and 11 Wt.J, y0aw&rd me IePlied: . i0 the n," v did we not read of it i itho dav FT ? Doa,t yn emem ber1 be.QtiyeBterdKy? And ia t that a few nighta before eho had held the Gazette noder tha light of my student-lamp, and point ing with ber finger to an adnrtisenent, said to me: Please road that." It waa the well-known appeal, the cry of de spair from a bleeding heart, addressed " to good people." A child was offered !or adoption to persons well off. "What would you think of our taking it?" my wife had said, and I had returned the paper to her with a shrug of my shoul ders, ' But, Martha, what have you done?" cried I, in a tone vibrating with anger. "Yon have really" "Certainly, as you see. Ad then it belongs to me; I myself have settled everything with the poor mother, who is in reality to be pitied. I have sworn to take good cateof it; and so I will in' deed." &he took the little head, with its blonde silk curls, between her white bands and fondled and caressed it "Is it not so, little one ? you will be loved ?" Bnt tbe somewhat sickly and delicate little inco showed no sign of understand ing, except that out of the heart-shaped little mouth came one of those sighs that sound so strangely from children. I at once gave up all serious objec tion. Had we not been accustomed for years to act independently of each other ? Our marriage was not a happy one, although we had not married for love. During the noise and bustle of the crowded exchange, our fathers had contracted this union. She had to tear her heart from a beloved one, and in m ine glowed a passion not yet outspoken. But parental wishes conquered. 'We uhoeo to bo obedient children; and so it happened. At the commencement we were to each other a silent reproach; after which followed a declared war, until finally we came to a polite but gloomy peace. To be sure she was beautiful, shts was good and bright and sparkling. Others called her an ngel. And I? Well, I believe that I was no monster either. Tbe analysis showed the brightest col ors, still the sun was missing. We were six years married and had no children. Perhaps had heaven sent us them well, this child belonged entirely to her I I heard later that she had given the mother a thousand dollars, the price of a set of jewels which she sold secretly. Why did yon not tell me of it V" said I, half angrily. "Because it would have been too late if I had waited for your return to tbe city ; and besides I wanted to have it entirely for myself ; I want to call it my own," said she, pcratingly. My horses, my dogs ; her canaries, her gold fishes that I could endure ; but that she wanted to havo her child for herself alone, that was too much for me. The thought of it tortured me one, two days long. On the third day, my wile having gone out in her carriage, there came a veiled woman and de manded entrance. It was the mother. Like a shadow she glided into the room, and, with a half-Buppressed sob, begged to see her child onoe more. She could not part from him forever without imprint ing one more kiss upon his cheeks. I opened my safe quickly: "Here, my good woman," said I, " take that, they have not given you enough." Hot tears fell down her wan cheeks; she begged me not to judge her too harshly; she had another child, a cripple and help less; she herself was sick and would not live much longer, and what was to be come of the children? Then she thought I myself had to finish the sentence, which a violent fit of cough ing had interrupted. "Yes," she had thought, " I will sell the healthy one, in order that the money may help the cripple when I am dead and gone." No, she must not bs judged harshly; we rich ones know but little of the trials and temptations of the poor. When my wife returned I gave her an aocount of the call I had had, adding that I had given to the unfortunate one ezactlv the same amount as she had. "And now," said I, "you see the child belongs to both of us." She bit her lip with her little white teetu. " It is all the same to me," said she after a moment's reflection, and with that she pressed a tender kiss on the little boy's mouth. It sounded almost like a challenge. " Our child I" I scarcely ever saw it And the changes that were made in our household for his sake were made entire ly without me. Sometimes, after the most important thiugs ere deoided, my consent was then asked. " We are obligod to have a nurse, I, hired one, Anselm" I nodded silently " We must fit up a nursery ; that room is too worm for the child." I nodded silently, but I heard the sound of the workmen, who were already busy in the hall AV hatsould I do better ? Was it not all done for our child ? Mr wife and I did not talk much about the child, and when we did men tion it we used only the name "If But this " It" could be heard through t he house at almost any time of the day. ' Hush ! not so muoh noise I It sleeps! It must have its dinner. It should be taken out for a drive. It has hurt it self !" And so the whole house began to turn round our It." This nameless neuter vexed me. " It must have its own name," said I, one day. " I entirely forgot to ask the mother I mean the woman what its name is," answered my wife. "She intended to come again. But she does not come, she is certainly sisk. Now, I call it Max. Max is a pretty, short name; is it not V" "Him," returned I, between I two draughts of my cigar; " Fritz would also be it quite pretty nama." "One cannot change the name now on ac count of the domes t ion," answered she, shortly; and then called out loudly: "Is Max up already?" Never mind, wan it not onr child I Once, though, I played my justifiable part toward our child. At dinner it was always served at a little table in an ad- ioining room. At such times we could tear, between the scantily-dropping phrases of our conversation its merry prattling, accompanied by the clatter ing of its spoon. My wife had no rest; there was a continual going and coming between us and him; thn soup might be too hot and he might eat too much 1 "Wife," said I, very quietly but very decidedly, "from to-morrow it shall eat With us at our table. It is old enough now with its two years." From that time on " It" atei'withus. He sat there in his high chair like a prince, close to my wife; both opposite to me like deolared enemies, as it were. Tbe yellowish paleness of poverty had yielded to a fine aristocratic pink in his little cheeks, which, now becoming quite chubby, sat comfortableon the stiff folds of the napkin. It 'worked Eowernlly at its soup; and now that it ad finished, set up tbe spoon like a scep ter in its little round fist on the table. My wife and I had exchanged a few words, and now again we sat silent Apparently on account of this silenoo, its large eyes began to open wider and wider. They b tare a on me, stared at my wife, with a surprised, almost frightened expression, as if they had a presentiment that all was not right between us. I confess that these eyes embarrassed me, and that I had a feeling : of relief when Frederick entered with a dish. And I think that my wife felt the same. And the following days there were the same large, wondering eyes, like an appealing question, staring into tbe pauses of onr conversation. It sounds ridiculous, but it is nevertheless true; we were culprits before tbe child, we two grown persons ! And by degrees our conversation became more ani mated. The occasional pratt lings of the little cno wore noticed and spoken about; indeed sometimes there was mutual laughter at his attempts to speak. Ah I how light, how bell-like pure sounded her laughter! Had I never then heard that before ? And what was the matter with me, that I sometimes bent over my writing desk, listening, as though I heard from a distance theee same silvery tones ? W7ith the first sunny spring days "It" began to play in the garden, which I ccuid overlook from my seat in my office. She was generally with him. I could hear the sound of his little feet on the pebbles, and then her footsteps. Now she would playfully chase him, and a chorus of twittering sparrows would join tneir notes with the merry laughter. Now she would catch him and kiss his cheeks over and over. Once I opened my window; a warm, balsamio air streamed around me and a butterfly fluttered in and lit on my inkstand Just then she came out of a green, vine grown bower; she was dressed in a dazzling white negligee, trimmed with costly lace; all over her streamed the golden sunshine, except that her face was overshadowed by the pink of her parasol. How slim she appeared 1 how graoef nl in her movements ! Had I been blind ? Truly tho aunts and cousins were right; she was in reality beautiful ! A sweet smile transformed her features; she was happy certainly in this moment she was and ner happiness came from her child. Then a voice made itself heard in my breast, which said very plainly: -xou are a monster ? ' i got up and walked to the window. "It is a beauti ful day,"v'called I. I know how cold and proaaio it must have sounded to her. It came like a heavy cloud-shadow over a sunny landscape. She answered some thing that I did not understand; but the brightness was gone from her littlo face. Then she took np the child, who was stretching out his arms to her, end kissed and caressed him before my eyes. There it was when the first feeling of jealousy was aroused in me; a jealousy truly, but what a strange jealousy, which could not niako clear to itself who was its object! If "It" said "mamma" to her, there camo a pain in the heart; and the caresses with which she overwhelmed him almost drove me wild. I was jealous of both! It pained me that I had no part in thia weaving of love; that I was not the third in the union. I exerted myself to gain a part of their love. I did it very clumsily. The child persevered in a certain shyness, and she had I not kept myself forcibly away from her during these long, long years? One day at the dinner-table, after a skirmish of words, came a great still ness between us, a stillness more pain ful than it had ever been. I glanced down at the flowers on my plate of Saxon porcelain, my displeasure showing ia my fifce; but I felt plainly that If bad its eyes fixed on mo, and also ber eyes! It waa as if those four eyes burned on my forehead. Then sound ed suddenly in the stillness, " Papa I" and again louder and more courageous, "Papal" I shuddered. "It "sat there and stared, now very mnch frightened, over at me, wondering, perhaps, whether a storm would be raised by its "Papa." But her face was suffused with glowing redness, and her half open lips trembled slightly. There came a flood of gladness over my heart. Certainly no one but her had taught him this " Papa." Why did I not spring up, bound toward her, and with cue word, one embrace, alrike out the loneliness of these last six years ? One right word in this moment and all would have been well It remained nnspoken ; I seemed to have lost all power to act; but on ft certain page of my ledger are still traces of the tears I shed in anger at my own stupidity. There was no donbt about it ; another spirit had stepped in with its little curly head the spirit of love ; and that made me a stranger in my own house. A precious sunshine brightened the rooms, even when the one in the heavens Was hidden by clouds. The face of the servants and even inanimate objects streamed back this radiance. But me, only, the sunshine did not tonoh. I felt myself always more and more unhappy in my loneliness. Jealousy grew in me ; it gave me all sorts of foolish thoughts. I wanted to rebel against the little autocrat, but that would be ridiculous. I wanted to give her the choice between him and me. I, audacious one. I knew very well which side her heart would choose. At another time I was ready to take steps in order to find the mother, and, with the power of gold, foroo her to take back her child behind my wife's back. That would be cowardly. I could no longor fix my mind on business. I mistrusted even myself. People asked what was the matter with me. I feigned illness. The sunshine would not let itself be banished, and the spirit of love was stronger than I. With his flaming sword he drove me out. " I must take a long journey, Martha." My voice trembled as 1 said tins. My wife must have noticed it; for something like moist, shining pity shone in her beautiful eyes. At my taking leave she held the little one toward mo and asked in soft, caressing tones: "Will you not say adieu to our child f" I took up the little one, perhaps too roughly; at all events, he liegan to cry and reeist my caresses. Then I put him down and hastened away. X traveled in uncertainty through the world and behold ! after the first few days in addition to an ordinary travel ing companion, bad humor, there came another fellow who told me plainly that I was a fool. First it sounded like a whisper, then louder and louder: "You are a downright fool." Finally, I read it in the newspaper before me; it was traced on the blue mountains; the loco motive shrieked it to me. Yes, I be lieved it; why did I not then and there turn my face homeward ? ' Well, the fool must first travel it all off before everything would be right again. At last, one day, with a violen beat ing of the heart, I again entered my dwelling. What a solemn stillness reigned there ! I could now hear the sound of whispering voioes; my wife came toward me: " It is very sick, very sick," moaned she, "It will surely die I" I tried to comfort her. Only a short time, however, proved that her fears were but too well grounded. Daring the night wo both sat by the little bed: she there and I here. Each of us holding one of his little hands. Ahl those feverish pulse beats! every stroke sounding like an appeal: " Love each other, love each other; be goodl" We felt eventually these th robbings and we understood the appeal. Our eyes met full and earnest through the glittering tears, as in a first holy vow. Words would have seemed a sacrilege then. Not long after we laid our darling in the warm spring earth. When we again eat down at our table there was a stillness between us; but it was not tbe same stillness as that which the little stronger had broken iu upon with his parting "Papa." By the wall stood his high arm-chair, and on the little board before it lay his spoon scepter. My wife reached her fine, white hand over the table, and asked: " Did yon also love it? at least a little?" Her voioe trembled. "My wife ! my sweet, my own wife !" called I. Then I fell at her feet and held her hands fast in mine. "Hove thee, my wife, oh. wife!" After the first emotion had subsided I pointed to the arm-chair: " The little one came to teach us love," whispered I. " And when it had finished its teach ing it went again to the angels," added she, through ber tears. One day the physician stepped out of my wife's room, with a smiling face. He touched the little arm-chair as he passed it, saying: "Let it stand there; yon will need it again." Really? Was it possible ? Had I de served such happiness? As I held my wife close to my heart in my irrepressible joy, I could not for bear to bend down to her blushing little face, and say: " We will love it dearlv. 5 very dearly. Is it not so ?" Peter llclm's Gratitude. Peter Helm was menaced by a mob near Fort Wayne, Ind., twenty years ago. He had killed a popular man in a drunken wrangle and was in imroinen danger of being lynched. He bad sum moned John L. Farrar, a lawyer, but the crowd was inclined to hang the prisoner without listening to his coun sel. In this emergency Farrar drew his client aside as it for oonsnltation, and then advised him to run for the woods which were close by. Helm did so and was not caught. The lawyer got no fee and narrowly escaped vicarious lynch ing. He never heard of Helm again until recently, when he received a let ter from Mexico containing a draft for $500, with the information that the fugitive bad become a sucoesBful coffee plantar. ARCTIC HEROES- The f ortltarte Dllare1 by De l,ena- una Ills Companions Levari let the I,nt. The diary of Lieutenant De Long, found beside hia body, extends from Ootober 1 to October 30, 1881. It is the record of terrible suffering borne with indomitable, heroism and ending in death. There is not in literature a nobler or more pathetic story. De Long and hii men d'ied of cold and hunger. They supported life during thirty days by the adoption of every means known to shipwrecked men except cannibalism. No one seems to. have thought of that horrible expedient At first they had a little dog meat, and they managed to shoot two or three ptar migans ; then they were reduced to tea made of willow twigs and to alcohol. At last they gnawed the leather of their boots and bits of deer-skin, and then, too weak to continue their march, lay down to die. They were slowly dying of starvation for fully three weeks, and in this condition had to resist as best they could the terrible cold. Through it all they never lost their courage. "All hands weak and feeble, but cheer ful," wrote De Long, when it must have been perfectly clear that nothing but a miracle could save the party from death. There is not a line in the whole diary of complaint or murmuring against God or man. It too often happens that discipline vanishes among shipwrecked men, and that the selfish desire for life leads to inhumanity, if not to actual crime There is no such stain in the story of the crew of the Jeannette. De Long seems to have maintained his authority unquestioned to the last, and his men evidently shared his generous spirit For days they dragged a sick comrade with them lashed to a sled, and never seem to have thought of abandoning him in order to increase their own chances of reaching a settlement The officers and men never manifested the slightest hesitation between duty and selfishness. They clung together and helped one another loyally while living, and so long as the survivors had strength their dead comrades were given Christian burial. There was ap parently no difference in tho boating and devotion of De Long, tho Ameri can, Erickson the Dane or Ah 8am the Chinaman. Every man of the little band was a hero, knowing how to do his duty and doing it with unflinching faith fulness. In their distress the shipwrecked men turned for help to G. d. In De Long's diary there is constant mention of religions services. When the faith ful Alexy was dying the surgoon bap tized him, and when all hope had gone we are told that "all hands united in saying the Lord's prayer and Creed." The humble, cheerful trust in God and submission to His will, of which Ds Long's diary gives constant evidence, show us that it was a band of Ctuintiuu heroes that perished in the Siberian snow. Bitterly as we may at first sight re gret that so many noble lives have been lost, the men of the Jeannotte's crew did not dio in vain. Their fate suggests that beautiful passage in the prayer book where we thank God for those who havo departed this life in His fear. DeLong and his men have made ns prouder of onr humanity. They have shown ns to what sublime heights of heroism eduoated officers and ignorant seaman can alike attain. They have given an example of calm and cheerful performance of duty which is without price. They have shown ns once moro that faith in God can survive all suffer ing. Let us thank God for the life and death of theso heroic men. It is im- Eossible that their heroism can fail to ear its prioeless and perennial fruit But let us have no more ooxtly sacri floes of lite in the vain search for the pole. It is idle ns wel 1 as unsenbrouH to blame the projectors of the Jeannetto expedition for its disastrous failure. The vessel was to follow a route hither to untried, and there was ample justifi cation for testing the question whether the pole could be reached by that route. Exploration becomes unjustifiable only when it is demonstrated that the end sought cannot be attained in spite of every effort and sacrifice. When Jthe Jeannette sailed it had not been de monstrated that the pole could not bs reachod by steering northward from Wrangell Land. Ller experience has now proved that the ice barrier is as impenetrable in that direotion as it is wherever else it has been attacked, The chances that the pole can never be reached are now so infinitesimally small that we are not justified in wasting any more lives in polar expeditions. To send out another expedition would show a reckless indifference to human life of which any nation ought to be ashamed. Let us close the record of hopeless heroism atd useless suffering in the frozen sea with the story of the noblest of all the Arctic heroes, George YY. 10 ljong. Aew l ork Jim's. Countered on the Doctor. Dr. Louis, of New Orleans, who is something of a wag, called ou a colored minister, and propounded a few puzzling questions. " Why is it," said he, "that you are not able to do the miracles that the Apostles did 7 Ihey were, v tected against all poisons and all ads of perils. How is it you are r' .-otooted now in tbe same way ?'V Tho colored pry esponded promptly : " Don t .. oout that. dootor. I spect I is. I've taken a mighty sight of strong medicine from you, doctor, and I u alive yet Every rou is oceaskmally what ho ought to be perpetually. Life's Lesson, iredf Well, what of that f s fancy life was spent on beds of case, Fluttering the rose loaves scattered by the breeze? Come, reuse tbee 1 Work while it is called day 'Coward, arise I Go forth upon thy way. Lonely ? And what of that ? Some must be lonely; 'tis not given to all To feel a heart responsive rise and fall, To blend another life into its own. Work may be done in loneliness. Work on t Dark? Well, what of that ? Didst fondly dream the sun wonld never sot ? Dost fear to loae thy way ? Take courage yet Learn thon to walk by faith, and not by sight Thy steps will guided be, and guided right. Hard? Well, what of that ? Didst fancy life one summer holiday ? With lessons none to learn and n aright bnt play? Go, get thee to thy task. Conquer or die I It mnst be learned; learn it, then, patiently. HUMOR Of THE DAY. Has it ever occurred to baseball men that a milk pitcher is generally a good fly catcher? " I am a broken man," said a poet " Well," said his friend, " I inferred that from your pieces." "A babe," says a writer, "ia n mother's anchor." We have oftea heard that the first thing she doei ia to weigh it It makes very little difference what the weather may be in other parts of the country in April and May, they always have Hot Springs in Arkansas. " What makes Colonel so pop ular ? I'm sure he's very stupid. He can hardly see beyond his nose," said a lady to a friend, who replied: "My dear, sharp-sightedness is not what makes a person popular. It is what the colonel doesn't see that gives him such popular ity." There are a number of circumstances that will take tho conceit out of a man, and one of the chief is, after taking a tnrn up the street and judging by the way they look at you that you are making a stunning impression on the girls, to find on your return that yonr hat has been on wrong Bide foremost all the time. The notion was prevalent - in tbe Middle Ages that the diamond, taken internally, is a deadly poison. Ben venuto Cellini details an attempt to poison him by causing diamond powder to be mixed with his salad, anl attributes his escape to the rascality of the lapidary employed, who kept the diamond, and administered powdered glass. 'This is a funny doctrine!" exclaimed Brown, who had been reading of metem psychosis. "The idea of the human soul entering the body of an animal ! Aocording to this doctrine, my soul, after I get through with it, may inhabit the body of a jackass!" "And why not?" asked Fogg, demurely. "It would cer tainly feel more at home there than any whore else." Some years ago, at a public dinner, a Dntohman, just from Holland, was one of the company; and during the banquet he paid so much attention to a roasted sucking-pig immediately in fiont of his plate that he devoured the entire ani mal. As he finished the last morsel, unctuous and savory, a bustling waiter asked him what he would 1 ke to be helped to next. "Oh," replied tha feeder, "I'll dank you for von more of dem leetle hoksl" A commercial traveler, who ia some thing of a wa?, thus relates his ex perience: He and his companions were the sole occupants of the smoking car. They tried to converse, but the road as so rough they were pitcnea irom side to side lite a ship's passengers. At last they were able to make each other understood. One said, "Dan, the old thing is running smoother." To which Dan replied: "Yes, 1 guess she has got off the track." such is urc A girl, A whirl, A dance, A glance, Some ooy, coquettish intrignaw A walk, A talk, A sweet lie treat, A pensive sigb half stifling. A gate. Quite lato, Oh, Mine, A kiss! What would my mamma say, sir ? A thick 4 ah stick, A whack I lly back 1 " You're getting qnite too gay, sir." r . A : n inmad sin A 1 ilT A frar tijnveruuu riage between December and May, some of the gentlemen pooh-poohing the matcu. u mo "j pioned the frostbitten Benedict." V by, said she, "every man ought to keep himself married as long as he lives. Now, here's my husband I What would he be good for without a wife? II I should die to-night he would get another wife to-morrow, I P; ... .... .HI T , , .' .. Vi 1 1 r AUT M Ail WOUlun lyou, dosiau r heavily and seemed to sum np the con- nubial torments or a . " calm mponse: "No. my dear, I think I should take a rest T A man never looks so like a red-handed villain as whau he is told by thephc togrspher to "look pkasant." r
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers