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GOME AND TAKE ME. Dcviyisr.
VOL. 1. CLEARFIELD, WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 31, 18-55. NO. 28.
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EULOGY ON WASHINGTON.
sr samcel r. joxes.
The Eastern star that o'er old Bethlehem bung
In blaiine splendor, while the angelic tongue
Announced the coming of that holy child, eJ
nose lace beam u giaanesj, lor tne saviortr smti-
fco did the Star of 1-reedom proudly stand.
To shed it's radiance o'er Columbia's land ;
And point the way where all the sons of Earth
Might view the infant Liberty's proud birth,
They wond'ring to its cradle gladly run,
And saw their saviour in Geokoe Washington.
The enartnor'd muse thro" time's protracted scene,
On hiBt'ry d page shall keep his memory green;
Fathers shall teach their sous to rev'rence theo,
Thou friend of Yir.Tre and Equality;
For. when oppress'd cud struggling to be free,
Thy valli.int arm strujK firm lor Licerty
Fluck'd from a tyrant's brow the brightest gem
That ever glitterd in his diadem
Sapp'd the foundation of our country's shame,
And gaia'i Columbia's land a deathless name.
Venerable cbif ! a long, a last farewell !
In death's cold, narrow house, you silent dwell.
No poignant grief, or life-corroding care,
Can e'er disturb thy peaceful ashes there;
For playful cherubs round thy crumbling clay,
Hare borne each atom to Eternal Dai;;
Fair as the Moon, brighter than the Svu,
In Heaven now dwells Immortal Washington!
(Driginnl JHornl Calr.
(WRITTKX fO!l THE JOCBXAL.J
Yertitia, left alone in the arbor, aid with
the shales of evening gathering fastly around
her, had a multitude of conflicting thoughts.
Her mind, however, was fully made up on
on? point ro rc-nounce the world, aa-l become
a Christian. Sue had experienced, she
thought, the necessary change; and nothing
now r.'Kiained for her, as she urgently felt, but
th3 duty of speedily professing her faith be
fore the world. As to the odium that every
where attached to the nnmt, or the Ores of a
ieedy martyrdom that everywhere blazed
around her, thess things had never once oc.
carreJ to her mind, nor had they in any way
influenced her in this all-important decision.
Her experiences, and abovo all her hopes of
another and better life, a life, some scintilla
tions of whose untold glories had played be
fore h?r eyes, and awaked the slumbering en
ergies of her soul, had absorbed her thoughts
nnd banished the fear of death.
And now as she sat. thoughtful thinking
of the glory to coine, of her dear sister in
heaven, and joying inly over her own happy
change, her eyes closed, she gradually sauk
into a dreamy unconsciousness, and her
thoughts were all away from earth.
She seemed all at once to be in the very
world of which she had just been thinking ;
and a "loved one" too, now much more in her
thoughts than ever, passed in a living, grace
ful form before her.
As to the place itself, it seemed to be just
like this earth, and yet very unlike it. Some
things there were just as they are here, and yet
there was a strangeness about even these, that,
any attempt to depict in words, were utterly
useless. There was the green sward, the
bnbling brook, the scented flower, the un
dulating slope, the blue line of hill, and the
tall spiles of a city, glittering in the dim dis
tance. But then about every thing there was
an indescribable something, an unutterable
hue ; a sort of spiritual transparency tlat
facinated while it be-dimcd the eye.
The light of the land, however, seemed the
strangest tiling of all. There was no sun in
the clear, still skies, and yet tho light stream
ed all through the air, above that of the clear
est and brightest days. No day on earth could
be likened to it, in its balmy freshness, or in
its clastic effects upon the spirits.
And now as Yertitia seemed to herself to
stand on the margin of a gentiy-flowing rivu
let, its green-swarded banks strewed with
flowers of nameless varieties, and gazed off in
the direction of the city, the gentle breezes
bore to her car the soft, sweet sounds of dis
sent music. Then, presently, a long train of
white forms appeared moving down a gentle
alope, but were soon lost again behind an in
tervening copse of mingling trees and flowers.
At sight of these, she felt a strange timidi
ty steal over her, and she quickly concealed
herself behind a flowery knoll.
More and more audible grew the music, and
more varied and enchanting its strains, till, at
length, peeping through the flowers, she ob
served the train issuing from the copse, into
the clear, open lawn, at a short distance from j
her. Her fears increased, but her curiosity, I
in spite of herself, kept her blue eyes peering
through the flowers.
The forms were light and airy, their step
elastic and bounding, their dress a shining
white, long and flowing, their eyes bright
nd lustrous, and their long hair hung in glos
sy to.ds over their shoulders. On their heads
were bright, dazling crowns, and in their
hands small harps of the finest gold, and from
from which, at tho touch of their white, del
icate fingers, proceeded the enchanting music.
As the train moved along opposite the place
of her concealment, and just as they swept
away off again in the direction of the city,
one of the forms quickly separated from the
rest, and, with a smile, approached the flowery
"Sister ;" said the form, in a sly, calling
voice ; and wheeling, sped away again after
her companions, her long ringlets of black,
glossy hair flowing in the breeze.
Yertitia looked sprung to her feet tried
to speak, tried to fly after her, but not a word
could she articulate not a limb could she
move ; and with these efforts awoke.
"Och! it's all a dream," said Yertitia, as
she sat thinking of the strange sight ; ''but
then it was Fiducia; it certainly was, and
did'nt she call me Sister, too ! But how did
she know J was there? IIow queer!" and
she sprung to her feet, to carry the glad news
to her lather.
Just as she rose, and looked up, she saw a
a hideous monster standing only a few paces
from her side.
"Poor Yertitia ! she screamed, and threw
up her hands, aDd would have fled, affrighted,
into the house, but the monster stood directly
in the narrow walk, the only egress from the
arbor. And she sank back again in her seat,
trembling with horror.
"Timid as a fawn, eh! foolish girl!" said
the monster, in a voice that greatly be-Hed its
Yertitia, after a moment, ventured to raise
her eyes, with a view to making her escape,
when, lo! before her stood one of the most
beautiful, smiling creatures she had ever be
held. Still would she have fied, but note,
alas ! she felt spell-bound to the spot, nor was
she able, with all her efforts, to take her eyes
from off it.
"It's all a cheat, a lie, a delusion," said
the new beautiful creature, in the most mild,
Again did poor Yertitia make an effort to
rise, and flee but in vain.
"They would cheat ou out of allyour pleas
ures, and make life a misery to you," contin
ued the creature, in the same sweet, mild
"What! what!" exclaimed Yertitia wildly.
"This new faith, this life tecome. It's all
a moonshine nonsense !" said the creature.
"O ! did'nt I see her see her just a little
:o ! and doesn't my dear sister live ! live,
too, in that strange, happy place?" said Yer
titia, in a quick earnest voice, as if the vera
city of her sensitive nature had been insulting
"Ha! ha! 'ires! yes, may be, to be
save ; but then not a whit better off than if
she had served the idols of Rome, and siped
tho pleasures of the world. Foolish girl ! It's
all happiness all heaven hereafter ; and why
not live, every one, as they list ? That is to
say, if folks
Here the smooth speech of the speaker was
cut short, by a rustling noise in the dusky air
above the arbor; arid at the sound of which
the beautiful creature was instantlv re-trans
formed into the hideous monster, and with a
horrid grin and a quick, loud gnash of the
teeth, sunk straitway into the earth, and dis
ertitia, like a bird, released from the fow
ler's snare, or the serpent's charm, sped along
the narrow walk, and, in a moment, was in
"O, father! he told me it was all a cheat a
lie a delusion ! that I was fooling away my
pleasures," exclaimed Yertitia, as she rushed
wildly into the hall, and stood before her fath
ertrembling, and deadly pale.
Who lxchat told you ?" said Yalens, in
"Something somebody, Ido'nt know who
or what it was. It stood in the walk right be
fore me ; at first, frightful-looking ; then,
all at once, it became so bright and beautiful,
and had such a kind, sweet voice. O ! I won
der if it was'nt an angel ." said Yertitia quick
ly, her eyes still staring with fright.
"Yes! a fallen angel! himself the verv
father of lies. " Beware, my daughter ! It was
your adversary, the Devil. He would cheat
you out of the life to come, ruin you in soul
and body forever ; that's his business, depend
upon it, a;ul a busy Devil he is," said Yalens
in a voice that showed no very good-will to
wards the person spoken of.
"Bat he seemed so beautiful, father; and
had such a smooth, nice way of saying things,
it's queer he does'nt appear himself on such
business," said Yertitia, thinkingly.
"If he did'nt want to deceive, so ha possibly
would ; but he transforms himself into an an
gel of light, and then lures us by his honeyed
words and flattering assurances. Thus he be
guiled the common mother of us all, and
brought all our sin and misery upon us," said
Yaleus, looking up earnestly at his daughter.
"-Voir I see, father ; ho was trying to de
ceive me ! "O ! I'm so glad you told me, I'll
know how to treat him now, should he ever
Bhow himself again."
"You may oft encounter his assaults, my
daughter ; but resist him, and he will flee from
"firm- strange!" said Verfitia, after mo
ments silente, in a serious, thoughtful voice.
"Yes ; strange enough," said Yalens; "but
true, my daughter all true. Every inch of
our path-way to the life to come is fiercely
contested. Let thy soul be ever on its guard.
Watch and pray, my daughter.
"I trill, father, I'll try."
"The Lord bless thee, my daughter. The
lot has been cast to us in troublous times, and
many and sore are the trials of our faith and
patience. But then it's all right all for the
best : an exceeding and eternal weight of glory
will be ours. The more secere the trials of the
present life, the more sweet the joys of the life
to come ; heaven will be all the happier to
us when we get there." Let thy faith, there
fore, be strong, and thy courage cheerful, my
daughter ; aud, yet a little while, thou shalt
walk in white and join in the songs of anoth
Yertitia looked seriously at her father a few
minutes, when, her features relaxing, and her
Jarge blue eyes sparkling with a strange glow
of animation, she exclaimed :
"O ! father, did'nt I see Fiduci see ray
dear sister there, in that very world!"
Yalens said nothing, only, that he looked
at his daughter, while his eyes quickly filled
"I did see her," continued Yertitia; "it was
n't a dream 1 think it wasn't, father. I was
there myself so, at least, it seemed hid be
hind a knoll of flowers. I saw them coming
a long train of white forms and, afraid, con
cealed myself; how foolish that was in me,
father, wasn't it? But as the train passed
where I was, I was peeping through the flow
ers at them, one came running nimbly tow
ards me, and smiling, and looking right at the
bunch of flowers, called out, "Sister," and
then sped away again. Oh! it was Fiducia,
it was, father! I tried to speak tried to fly
after her, but couldn't. It wasn't a dream
was it ? But how did she know was there,
"They shall go from strength to strength,
my daughter, and things that impossible here,
may be very possible there. Now we see and
know in part only, but there we shall see and
knoie as we are known," said Yalens, wiping
the tears from his eyes.
"O! how I do Avish these thinks weren't
dreams," said Yertitia, with a sigh.
"It matters not, my daughter, whether they
are seen in the body or out of it, they are
glorious realities, and we have these glimpses
of the coming life, in this world, for our com
fort and encouragement.
"O! I wish I were there there noir, father,
it's such a bright, beautiful world. It has
such sweet flowers such sweet music, and the
people look so happy there. O! how I would
like to be one of that that train, aud walk in
in white at the side of my dear sister it would
be so delightful, and I should be so happy
then," said Yertitia, sorrowful.
"In duo season we shall reap, if wefaintnot,
my daughter. For the present, we must en
dure as good soldiers of the cross. By and by,
the life to come, with its robes, and crowns,and
harps, aud songs will be ours ours forever!"
"But it's time we were on our way to the Cat
acombs; it's late quite. Be ready as soon as
possible, my daughter," said Yalens, rising
from his scat, and leaving the hall.
'Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn,
Press onwiird to the prize;
Soon our Saviour will return.
Triumphant in tho skies.
Yet a season, and you know,
Happy entrance will be given ;
All our sorrows left below,
And earth exchanged for heaven."
To be continued.
STEEL PEN MAKING.
The process is a very interesting one, and
the work is done by machinery. The steel is
rolled and otherwise prepared to bo cut into
pens by means of a press, in which the proper
tools are fitted for cutting out the 'blank.'
Women work these presses, and one hand
will cut 28,000 to S0,000 per day. When the
blanks are cut, they are pierced that is, the
central hole and side slits are made at anoth
er press; after which they are sortencd by the
application of heat, being placed in a heating
oven for that purpose,. They are then marked
by the aid of a die, worked by the foot, which
stamps the uamc of the maker on the back. The
pens have next to be placed in a groove and con
verted from a flat surface into a cylindical form.
The next operation is to place them in small
iron boxes and piled iu a furnace or hot oven,
where the pens are heated with a white heat.
On being withdrawn, they are plunged into
oil, which renders them so brittle, that they
might be crumbled to pieces with the fingers.
They are place in a cylinder, not unlike a
coffee roaster, and revolved over a fire, which
process frees them in a great measure from the
oil. The heat changes their color from grey
to straw color, next brown or bronze, and then
to a blue, and renders them thoroughly elastic.
As they emerge from the process with a con
siderable degree of roughness, they are put
into tin cans, with a quantitw of sawdust ; and
Iteiog made to revolve by means of steam,
they came out clean and smooth, ready to be
ground an operation performed by young
girls, holding them by the aid of a pair of nip
pers, for a moment over a grinding wheel.
They are then slit, an operation performed
so quickly by means of a press, that one hand
will slit one hundred grogs a day. After , this
thay ore sorted, varnished nnd readv for sale.
THE WITCH WIFE.
by jobs c. whittier.
When a boy, I occasionally met at the house
of a relative in the adjoining town, a stout,
red-nosed old farmer of the neighborhood. A
fine tableau he made of a winter's evening, in
the red light of a birch log Are, as he sat for
hours watching its progress, with, half shut
eyes, changing his position only to reach the
cider mug on the shelf near him. Althongh
he seldom opened his lips save to assent to
some remark of his host, or to answer a direct
question, yet at times, when the cider mug
got the better of his taciturnity ,he would amuse
us with interesting details of his early expe
riences in the "Ohio Country."
There was, however, one chapter in these
experiences which he usually held in reserve,
and with which "the stranger intermeddled
not." He was not willing to run the risk of
having what was a brightful reality turned
into ridicule by scoffers aud unbelievers. The
substance of it as I received it from one of his
neighbors, forms as clever a tale of witchcraft
as modern times have produced.
It seems that when quite a young man he
left the homestead, and strolling westward,
worked his way-from place to place until he
found himself in one of the Frencli settlements
on the Ohio river. Here he procured employ
ment on the farm of a widow; and being asraart,
active fellow, and proving highly serviceable
iu his department, he rapidly gained favor in
the eyes of his employer. Ere long, contrary
to the advice of the neighbors, and in spite of
somewhat discouraging hints touching certain
matrimonial infelicities experienced by the
late husband, he resolutely stepped into the
dead man's shoes, tho mistress became the
wife, and the servant was legally promoted to
the head of the household
For a time matters went on cosily and com
fortably enough. lie was now lord of the soil;
and he had laid in his crops of corn and pota
toes, salted down his pork, and piled up his
wood for winter's use, he naturally enough
congratulated himself upon his good fortune,
and laughed at the sinister forebodings of his
neighbors. But with the long winter months
came a change over his "love's young dream."
An evil and mysterious influence seemed to be
at work in his afiairs. Whatever he did after
consulting his wife, or at her suggestions, re
sulted favorably enough ; but all his schemes
and projects were unaccountably marred and
defeated. If he bought a horse, it was sure to
prove spavined and wind broken. His cows
either refused to give down their milk, or giv
ing it perversely kicked it over. A fine sow
which he bad bargained for, repaid his parti
ality by devouring, like Saturn, her own chil
dren. By degrees, a dark thought forced its
way into his mind.
Comparing his repeated mischances with
the ante-nuptial warnings of his neighbors, he
at last came to the melancholy conclusion
that his wile was a witch. The victim in Moth
erwell's ballad of the Demon Lady, or the poor
fellow in the Arabian tale who discovered that
he had married a goul in the guise of a young
and blooming princes, was scarcely in a more
sorrowful predicament. He grew nervous and
fretful. OKI dismal nursery stories and all
the witch lore of boyhood came back to his
memory; and he crept to his bed like a crimi
nal to the gallows, half afraid to fali asleep lest
his mysterious companion should take a fancy
to transform him into a horse, get him shod at
the smithy and ride him to a witch meeting.
And, as if to make the matter worse, his wife's
affection seemed to increase just in proportion
as his troubles thickened upon him. She ag
gravated him with all manner of caresses and
endearments. This was the drop too much.
The poor husband recoiled from her as from a
waking nightmare. His thoughts turned to
New England; belonged to sen once more the
old homestead, with its tall wellswcep and but
ternut trees by the roadside; and he sighed
amidst the rich bottom lands of his new home
for his father's rocky pasture, with its crop of
stinted mulleins. So one cold November day,
finding himself out of sight and hearing of his
wife, he summoned courage to attempt an
escape, and resolutely turning his back on the
west, plunged into the wilderness towards the
sunrise. After a hard and long journey he
reached his birthplace, and was kindly wel
comed by his old friends. Keeping a close
mouth with respect to his unlucky adventure
in Ohio, he soon after married one of hisscool
raates, and by dint of persevering industry and
economy, in a few years, found himself in pos
session of a comfortable home.
But his evil star lingered above the horizon.
One summer evening on returning from the
hay-field, who should meet him but his witch
wife from Ohio! She came riding up the road
on her old white horse, with a pillion behind
the saddle. Accosting him in a kindy tone,
yet not without something of gentle reproach
for his unhandsome desertion of her, she in
formed him that she had come all the way
from Ohio to take him back again.
It was iu vain that he pleaded bis latter en
gagements; it was in vain that, hia new wife
raised her shrillest remonstrances, not un
roingled with expressions of vehement indig
nation at the revelation of hr husband's real
position the witch wife was inexorable, go he
must, and that speedily. Fully impressed
withabelief in her supernatural power of com
pelling obedience, and perhaps dreading more
than witchcraft itselftheeff'-etsofthe uulucky
disclosure on the temper of his New England
helpmate, he made a virtue of the necessity of
the case, bade farewell to the latter amidst a
perfect hurricane of reproaches, and mounted
the whith horse, with his old wife on the pil
lion behind him. Of that ride Burger might
have written a counterpart tohis ballad:
'Tramp, tramp, along the shore they ride,
Splash, splash, along the sea "
Two or three years had passed away, bring
ing no tidings of the unfortunate husband,
when lie once more made his appearance in
his native village. He was not disposed to be
very communicative; but for one thing, at
least, he seemed willing to express his grati
tude. His Ohio wife having no spell against
intermittent fever, had paid the debt of nature
and left him free, in view of which, his sur
viving wife, after manifesting a due degree of
resentment, consented to take him back to
her bed and board: and I could never learn
that she had cause to regret her clemency.
0S2 OF KENDALL'3 ST0BIE3.
Kendall, of the Picayune, who has recently
joined the Texas Rangers, writes the follow
ing "good one" from Matamoras:
Hare nags may be found among the Texas
Volunteers, yet the funniest fellow of all is a
happy-go-lucky chap, named Bill Dean, one
of the Chevalier's spy company, and said to be
one of the best "seven up" players in Texas.
While at Corpus Christi. a lot of us were sit
ting out in the stoop of the Kinney IIouse,ear
ly one morning, when along came Bill Dean.
He did not know a single soul ia the crowd,
although ho knew we were all bound for the
Rio Grande ; yet the fact that the regular for
malities of an introduction had not been gone
through with, did not prevent him from stop
ping short in his walk and accosting us.
His speech, or rather harrangue, or whatev
er it may be termed, will lose much in the
telling, yet I will endeavor to put it upon
paper in as good shape as possible.
"O, yes," said he, with a knowing leer of
the eye; "O, yes; all goin' down among the
robbers on tho Bio Grande, are you I Fine
times you'll have, over the left. I've been
there myself, and done what a good many of
you won't do I come back ; but if I didn't
see nateral h 1 in August at that I am a tea
pot. Lived eight days on one poor hawk and
three blackberries couldn't kill a prairie rat
on the whole route to save us from starvation.
The ninth day came, and we struck a small
streak of good luck a horse give out, and
broke down, plump out in to the centre of an
open praric not a stick in sight big enough
to tickle a lattlesnake with, let alone killing
him. Just had time to sive the critter by
shooting him, and that was all, for in three
minutes longer he'd hn.v lied a nateral death.
It didn't take us long to butcher him, nor long
to cut oil some chunks of meat and stick 'em
on our ramrods; but the cookin' was another
matter. I piled up a heap ;f prairie grass, for it
was high and dry, and sot it on fire, but it flash
ed up like powder and as quick. But "
"But," put in one of his hearers, "but how
did you cook your horse meat alter this?"'
"IIow ?" "Yes, how I"
"Whj-, the fire caught tho high grass close
by, and the wind carried the flames streakin'
across the prairie. I followed up the fire
holding my chunk of meat directly over the
hottest blaze, and the way we went it was a
caution to anything short of a locomotive'sdo
ings. Once in a while a little flurry of wind would
come along, and the fire would get a few yards
the start; but I'd brush upon her w ith my chunk
and then we'd have it again, nip and tuck. You
never seed such a tight race it was beautiful."
"Very, we've no doubt," ejaculated one of
the listeners, interruping the mad wag just in
season to give him a little breath ; "but did
you cook your meat in the end ?"
'Not bad I didn't. I chased the d d fire a
mile and a half, the almighticst hardest race
you ever heerd tell on, and never gavo it up
until I run her right plump into a wet marsh ;
there the fire and chunk of horse meat came
out even a dead beat, especially the meat?"
"But wasn't it cooked?" put in another of
Cooked? No! crusted just over a little.
You don't cook broken down horse flesh very
easily, no how ; but when it comes to chasm'
up a prairie fire with a chunk of it, I don't
know which is the toughest, the meat or the
job. You'd have laughed to split yourself to
have seen me in the race to see the fire leave
me at times, and then to see me a brushin' up
on her agin, humpin' and movin' myself as
though I was runnfn' agin some of these big
ten mile an hour Gildersleeves in the old States.
But I'm a goin over to Jack Haynen's to get a
cocktail and a breakfast. I'll see yon all down
among the robbers on the Rio Grande."
And so saying, Bill Dean stalked off. I saw
the chap this morning in front of a Mexican
fondu, trying to talk Spanish with a "Greas
er," and endeavoring, to convince him that
he was a "d d robber."
Such is one of Bill Dean's stories; if I
could only make it as effective on paper as he
did in the telling, it would draw Uugh from
those fond of the ludicrous.
WHAT IS A MIJTIE EIFLE 1
Every account received from the war in tho
Criemea is loud in praise of the "Minic Rifle."
These fire arms in the hands of good marks
men, deal certain destruction at an immenso
distance, and the wholesale slaughter of the
Russian gunners at the battles ol Sevastopol,
has won for this weapon of death, the soubri
quet of "King of Fire Arms." So dreaded is
this fatal ball that a Russian gunner goes to hia
station at an embrasure as to certain death.
The barrel of a rifle has, running the length
of its inner surface, spiral grooves or channels
hence the name of rifle, which means zreled
oi a grooved gun. The object of a rifled bar
rel is to give greater precision to the ball, by
communicating to it a rotary motion. This
motion it receives on its passage out of the
gun, provided the ball is so crowded into the
barrel as to fill up partially or entirely the
grooves; and the more perfectly the ball fits
into the barrel, the trued its course, and the
less windage there is: that is, the less space
thero is between the ball and barrel for the
strength of the powder to escape. It is estima
ted that when tho windage is only l-20th of
the calibre of the gun, one-third of the powder
escapes, and ofcour.se the strength is lost.
The groat object therefore to be obtained, Is
a perfect fit to the barrel by the ball, thus to
give the rotary motion, and to save the powder.
A French gunsmith invented a rifle which
had its breech pin project wedge shaped,about
two inches into the barrel. The ball, a coni
cal shaped one, was then dropitcd into the
barrel, and a few heavy blows by the raara
mer, drove the wedge or piu into the the ball
so as to fill the grooves in the barrel,.
The minie ball, now so famous, is an im
provement upon all balls, inasmuch as it
makes the powder slug or spread the ball, In
stead of the rammer doing that work.
Tne ball is oblong with a conical point. In
its base it has a conical hollow running half or
two-thirds the length of the ball. A cup made
of sheet iron is placed in the ori-lco of this hol
low, which at the instant of firing is driven,by
the powder with great force into the ball, thus
spreading it open, so as in its course out, to
perfectly slug or fill the grooved barrel. This
accomplishes the whole object ; it s tves timo
in ramming, it destroys windage, thus econo
mising in powdT, and makes the ball perfect
ly fit the barrel so as to give the ball a com.
pletc rotary motion, and certainty of direction.
Thus the Minie improvement taking its name
from a French officer named Minie is a minie
ball, not a mine rifle. The conical shape of
tha bullet gives it greater weight of metal
than a round one, affords less resistance to the
air, and greatly increases the distance it can
be thrown. This shaped ball, however, has
been used for a long time by sportsmen.
A Paris correspondent of the N. Y. Tribun
some months since, was witness to experi
ments made by Major Minie himself with his
ball, and saw that ofneer plant three balls in
succession in a target the tsize of a man's hat
at a distance of three-fourths of a mile. And
this officer said he could do it all day long and
teach any other man to do so. It is not to be
wondered at that tho Russians have a horrorof
the French hasseurs uo'd their minie ball.
The present popularity of the rifle owes its
origin to the skill of American sharp shooters,
bred and trained in our new se'ttkments, and
who in our Indian and other wars have shown
the efficiency of the rifle ball in picking off
officers, gunners and prominent objects ; but
its perfection, we imagine, has been accom
plish .'J in the hands cf the French.
A traveler in Germany says: "The Ger
mans, by the way, have a queer way of making
brides,' and of doing some other things in
the courting and marrying way which may in
terest you perhaps. When a maiden is be
trothed, she is called -bride,' and so contin
ues till she becomes wife.' All the while she
is engaged she is a 'bride.' The lovers, imme
diately upon the bethrothal, exchange plain
gold rings, which are ever worn afterwards
till death parts them. The woman wears hers
on the third finger of her left hand, and when
she becomes 'wife,' her ring is transferred to
the third finger of the right hand, and there it
remains. The husband always wears his ring
just as the wife wears hers, so that if you look
upon a man's hand you can tell whether he
is mortgaged or not. There is no cheating
for him ever after no coquetting with the
girls, as if he were an unmarried man; for lo !
the whole story is told by his finger ring. A
married Viennese lady was much amused
when I told her that in our country we only
'ring' the women, but let the husband run at
large unmarked! 'Oh, that is dreadful!' said
she, more than half shocked. 'Think, then
is Frederick, iny husband only twenty-four
so young, so handsome and all the girls
would be taking him for an unmarried man,
and be making love to him ! Oh, it is dreadful,
is it not? They would never know he waa
married. I would not live there if Uh Freder
ick for the world.'
07 The best thing to give your enemy, U
forgiveness; to your opponent, tolerance; to a
frieud, your heart; to your child, a good ex
ample; to a father, deference; to your mother,
conduct that will make her proud of her ton ;
to yoursif, rpct; to Gd, ob4inc.