i .
BY S. B. ROW.
CLEARFIELD, PA, WEDNESDAY, MAY 2, 1860.
VOL. 6.-JVO. 30.
LIEUTENANT LTJFF.
BY THOMAS HOOD.
All of you that are too fond of wln,
Or any other stuff,
Take warning by the dismal fato
Of one Lieutenant Luff.
A sober man he might hare been,
Except in one regard ;
He did not like soft water,
And took to drinking hard.
8aid he, ''Let others fancy slops,
- And talk in praise of tea,
Btrt I am no Bohemian,
So do not like BoheA.
If wine's a poison, so is tea
But in another shape .
What matter whether one is killed
By CANISTER orOBAPK?"
According to this kind of taste,
He still indulged his drouth,
And being fond of port, he made
A pokt hole of his mouth.
A pint he easy could hare sipped,
And not been out of sorts ;
Jn geologic phrase, the rock
lie split upon, was quartz.
THE PATCHED OLD LADY.
Tbe church was fashionably fall.
From choir and altar went up loud-voiced
praise to God. The organ rolled oat its
mighty tones from lungs of brass. There
was a fluttering, rustling motion, as of the
moving of myriad silks; the gentle breath
cf hundreds of fans, while soft white feathers,
and rings, conspicuous under their gloves, and
tremulous laces, and faint, sweet odors, attract
ed the eye, and regaled the senses.
The preacher was in his pulpit more like
a throne it was with its hangings of lustrous
damask, Its tassels and fringes, and cushions
of crimson velvet. The Bible before him
looked heavy with gold, and its splendid lea
ves flashed at their edges as they were turned
over with reverent touch. The pastor's wife
aat in the first pew a delicate, pretty-looking
woman, well-dressed and much , admired.
From there, all along, even to the door, beauty
and wealth sits intent on listening to the rich
tones of the pastor.
Farther along still, in a corner pew, very near
, the entrance, sits an old and faded woman.
Her bonnet and dress are black, but quite shab
by. Her gloves are mended and her old shawl
patched. Her lace is. meek, sweet in expres
sion, though very much wrinkled. Her pos
ture denotes great humiliation, but as she lis
tens to tbe words of hope, a tear now and then
steals down the deep furrows, and the pale orbs
washed with much weeping, are reverently
lifted to heaven.
. " Did you notice that eld woman in the door
seat?" asked Mrs. Dix, slightly shaking out
the heavy flounces of her dress.
".No, I did not; whoisshe?" was the re
ply, endtng with a question ' ' 1 '
Some poor old thing or other she seems
like a Christian, though. I suppose, we ought,
some of as, to speak to her."
She gets out of cnurch so quickly," said
another lady, overbearing the conversation,
"that no one can catch an opportunity to
say a word. She's dreadfully poorly dressed,
too; what a mag-ni-fi cent sermon we had to
day!" " Splendid O, did . you see our new
comers 7" . : .
" You mean the lawyer's folks yes ; I'm
glad he's taken a seat with us. What a beau
tiful family he has 1"
" Beautiful indeed ! and dressed in such ex
quisite taste. Nothing in the least gaudy but
perfectly genteel, and very rich."
"They say be is immensely wealthy; ho
came from Boston. H is father died a year
ago, and left him a hundred thousand dollars.
How they did listen ! 1 hope they will be un
der conviction before a great while."
" What ! are they not religious ?"
"Bless you, no. Tbcy ore very nice,
moral sople, though better than professing
Christians, I'm told, but then far from being
pious."
"Sister Dix, we must cultivate theiracquain
tancc. What a field for doing good."
0! yes; great indeed. Did "you notice
What elegant hymn books they carried ! Tur
key morocco and gilt every one of them,
down to tbe smallest child."
" Noticed that. I think they have paid our
preacher quite a compliment. There are so
many men of talent in town."
And so tbey wended their way down the
church steps, talking of the new acquisition.
That evening the eloquent preacher said to
Lis wife, "My dear, I had very attentive
listeners in the new family who took a pew
last week."
" 1 thought so," was her reply.
" We must call npou them immediately."
" Certainly; I shall be ready at any time."
Tbe next day little Minnie, the youngest
daughter of the pastor, came home, admiring
a beautiful bunch of flowers which she held In
her band.
"See, mother just see how beautiful!
The old lady called me in again to-day, and
took these from her little garden."
" I can't think who it is that gives these
flowers to the child," said Mrs. Ivers, the
pastor's wife."
"01 bhe'sa real nice old lady, mother. She
ays she loves father, and thinks he does a deal
of good. She had a writing-desk, and was
writing when she called me in, for she had a
pen in ber band. She says she basn't been
here a great while. I asked her if father had
called to see her, and she said no, but she didn't
e&puct it yet awhile she knew he had a great
deal of calling to do." :
" Who can it be, husband ?"
I enn't think, I am sure," was the reply.
' " Father, won't you go with me some time ?"
asked little Minnie.
" Certainly, I will," said her father.
. "She kisses so nice," said the cbild, art
lessly. She don't make a fuss about it, but
Is so neat j so difierent from almost all old
ladies."
? The pastor and his wife smiled.
' A few days after this, Mr. Ivers was out on a
collecting tour. It was for an important ob
ject, for which he had volunteered to work,
and give his time. He drove around town,
little M. innie beside him.
Oh ! what a splendid house !" said the child!
clapping her hands, as they stopped before a
stately mansion. " Who lives here ?"
" The new family, dear, that sits in the pew
behind us. Don't you remember those nrettv
little girls ?" 3
Yes; but I didn't like 'era' said Minnie,
"because they didn't smile to me when I smil
ed to them, but tossed their heads so."
W0XX b0uldn't notice such things, Minnie,"
aid, her father, helping her out of the carriage j
" perhaps as they are city folks they want to
be introduced."
" I didn't," replied Minnie, significantly.
They went up the marble steps, and were soon
seated in the great parlor. The lawyer's wife
and the lawyer's daughters came in were po
lite talked of the weather the society sev
eral little nothings, but not a word of that
chiefest thing, personal piety. O ! how cold,
unprofitable, barren was the conversation !
The minister felt" congealed j little Minnie
fidgeted, after trying in vain to make the
little girls talk. The older young ladies sat
looking very interesting, but scarcely opened
their lips. However, when the minister open
ed to them his mission, and said that ho did
not expect over five dollars from any one sub
scriber, the lady immediately took from a sil
ver porte monaie a new, rustling bank note of
that precise amount and handed it, with a
smile, to the clergyman.
The visit was ended.
" How good the sun does look !" cried little
Minnie, springing from the last marble step.
" I was so cold in there."
" So was I," echoed her father, in his
thought.
" O I there's my dear old woman's house ;
that used to be a shop, you know. Now you
must go and see her."
So, true to his promise, the minister sprang
out, and Minnie, all eagerness, led him in. An
aged woman, very neat, very smiling, arose
from a desk where she was writing, and wel
comed them warmly.
" I am not busy, you see," she said, laying
down her pen ; and forthwith she began to talk
of the last Sabbath sermon, with a beauty of
language that quite astonished the pastor.
" It is very strange I have not seen you be
fore," he said.
' " I knew you had enough to do, with such
a large flock," she replied.
" But where do you sit 7"
" I have been in the last pew but one, on the
loft side ; your sexton showed me that one, and
I have, ever since I have been here, sat in it.
I is, however, so inconvenient that I believe,
as I have made up my mind to ' attend your
chnrch. I shall hire a seat farther up."
The pastor's cheek burned. He remember
ed the old, solitary woman in the poor seat.
" t atner is getting money lor the missiona
ries ; don't you want to give him some 7" ask-
ea the minister's little daughter," innocently.
" Yes, dear I'm sure I do. I've just twen
ty dollars of my annuity left. I was wonder
inghow I should dispose of it, for you must
know I have taken to the freak of giving it
away in my old age. I can support myself by
copying. Till the Lord takes away my strength,
all the money belongs to him."
" Is not this too much 1" , said the pastor,
taken quite by surprise. . ..
" It is the Lord's," said the old lady ; " do
with it for him, as it seemcth to thee good."
That visit was one of prolonged, of unex
pected interest. The old lady repeated parts
of the history of her life. She had been a
wealthy, learned and ambitious woman. Her
place had been in courts, and about royalty.
But terrible reverses had chastened and ele
vated her spirit, and she had brought ambition,
learning, and what little wealth she had, and
laid it at the foot of the cross. Never did the
pastor enjoy a richer intellectual or spiritual
least.
The wealthy lawyer and his family continu
ed tor many months to attend the society un
der Mr. Ivers, then the summer came, and
they flew like birds to a watering place. The
church was never richer for them, but while
the old lady, who had attracted no attention
beyond a little curiosity, remained on earth,
her worldly wealth, and her godly walk and
conversation wero full of nntoid benefit, and
caused more than one thoughtless church
membero blush for their want of interest in
the patched old lady who sat in the poor seat.
A Lady Rescued From The Savages. A
letter from Tuscon, Arizona Territory, gives
the following information respecting the re
scue of Mrs. Page, recently carried off by the
Indians : " Mrs. Page is still alive, is no lon
ger with the Indians, and she has passed
through actual trials, hardships and difficul
ties duriDg the last fortnight, exceeding in
thrilling interest the most highly wrought
pages of fiction. Last night a messenger ar
rived here from the Santa Rita Pinery, with a
letter from Mr. John Page, stating that his
wife had come in alive, after enduring almost
incredible trials. Mr. Page immediately set
out, -accompanied by a physician, and every
thing possible to be done for her relief will be
done. It seems from what we can learn, that
Mrs. Page, probably the day following her
seizure by the Indians, finding that her friends
were on the trail, refused to go on, and her
savage masters lanced her in several places,
and left her for dead. After some time she
revived to find herself weak from loss of
blood, with wounds still open, foot sore from
her previous trials, without food, and miles
from any habitation. What a position for a
young woman of eighteen summers a bride
of two months whose life hitherto had
been all sunshine 7 Through all these trials
Mrs. Page struggled for two weeks and drag
ged her emaciated form by degrees toward
the home from which she had so lately been
rudely torn by ruthless savages. No one
suspected bei presence in the mountain, and
those who were looking for intelligence-from
her, thought she was miles away amid the
haunts of the red men. How she was enabled
to suffer so much and reach home at length, is
incomprehensible. But sad as have been her
trials, how pleasing the consolation at last
that she once more is surrounded by friends,
and that she is no longer at the mercy of the
savages."
Breathe fresh air if you Mould livelong.'
In New England, farmers, who pass their days
out of doors, live to an average age of 64
years. The average of persons who have in
door occupations at death is, in Massachusetts
and Rhode Island: Shoemakers, 43; tailors,
42 ; editors, 41 j druggists," jewelers,s and
teachers,'-from 39 to 40; machinists, 38J;
printers, 86 Fresh air, there, almost doubles
a man's life while it more than doubles his ca
pacity for enjoyment.
K" A paragraph is going the rounds of the
papers, stating that tbe friends of Mr. Frank
Sanborn intend presenting his sister with the
"latest style of pistol." A friend suggests
that, although tbe young lady may be a very
good horsewoman, she would be very mach
at a loss in managing a Colt. - ' .
To abridge conversation, speak only truth.
OUR LITTLE DECEITS.
People are mueh given to expending a deal
of indignation upon that which they designate
as "the deceit of society." Yet those who
pretend to such "horror of deceit," are they
guiltless ; have they no sins of commission
in the little and large social falsehood to
which society is not to be the father-confessor ?
We may as well acknowledge the truth.
We may as well open our heart's secrets to
the father-confessor, and be contrite for once
in our lives. We are all a compound of dust,
deceit and greed ; that is to say. all of us who
claim a special position or social distinction.
"Ah, ha f Jones, I am really glad to see
you !" exclaimed Smith. Smith never told
a more egregrious falsehood in his life. Smith,
the whole entire period since he last met
Jones, has been trying to dodge himor hasn't
thought of him in any wise, and Jones knows
this ; and yet he accepts the deliberate lie as
a pleasant and customary portion of our social
etiquette. Jones replied : "My dear Smith
my old boy, do you know I was thinking of
you, this morning 7 I said to my wife this
morning at breakfast, I wonder what has be
come of Smith, my old friend V and I had
some thoughts of calling up at your house.
How have you been 7"
Smith is nearly certain that this speech is
a return lie.v Jones uttered it to him as he
had uttered it to a dozen other acquaintances
that day. And after a social drink together,
the precious pair separate only to renew the
utterance of the same little social deceits
whenever they chance to meet.
You, reader, who just now, perhaps, was
expressing such highly refreshing bits of mor
al anathemas in reference to backbiting, de
ceit, and lying; were you not just now in
conversation with Brown 1 Were you not
laughing at bis jokes, gravely nodding assent
to bis judgment, taking him by the band and
in every way using your utmost endeavor to
convince those around you that of all men in
the world, Brown is foremost in your esteem ?
Yet when Brown leaves when, after he has
resisted your earnest and importunate, and
half-a-dozen times repeated remonstrations
against h'14 departure, and has gone beyond
hearing, do you not in tbe presence of your
friends (you think them friends, at least,)
pronounce Brown an infernal, artful, irredeem
able scoundrel a Jeremy I) idler, a rogue,and
everything that is either mean or contempti
ble? Certainly yoj do ; and it is no more
than fair that you should, inasmuch that you
can safely swear that Brown, in a circle-of his
supposed friends, is annoirting your fair fame
with a similar quality of the concentrated
essence of defamation. Yon and Brown knew
that you were uttering a fsw of those "little
deceits," which are so absolutely necessary to
secure the stability of the society in which
you both live and move ; separated, you are
like wild cats; drawn together by accident,
you are doves in disposition. AH the ameni
ties (deceits) of society are extended from
one to the other ; Iscariots and Arnolds em
brace, and your falsehoods are accepted as the
most genial truths. '
- We?)ate with a hate that is unconquerable
the man we have just dined with, yet having a
due regard for tbe courtesies of life, (we call
our fear f what injuries he may do us and
our dread of an expose of our own weakness
courtesies in this instance,) we cannot find
woids to express our admiration of his char
acter. We leave his presence thoroughly
convinced that he is a consummate villain,
and we pronounce him so to our first acquaint
ance we encounter.
Father Confessor Society, are we not ac
knowledging the truth 7
The ladies, too, whoso ruby lips are never
parted save to utter such sweet pleasantries,
such kindly words of comfort ah ! they are
not guilty of these sins of commission. . Oh,
certainly not! What an unseemly churl is ho
who daie malign their character for truth and
veracity ! Yet, oh, Father Confessor, let us
have a revelation of their cloistered penitence !
of the confessions they, Hko all of us, must
make in the cloisters of the mind, with unfor
giving conscience in waiting with the dread
ful scourge of remorse.
How amiable are the fair and fashionable
daughters of Eve to each other in public ; yet,
how merciless in private ! "What a love of a
woman !" says Mrs. Boles to Mrs. Coles in re
ference to Mrs. Doles, "so amiable in dispo
sition ; really she is worthy of any one's es
teem and confidence."
Whereupon, Mrs. Boles in the next breatL
tells Mrs. Foles, who doesn't like Mrs. Doles,
"What an odious, abominable creature that
Mrs. Doles is. 1 do detest her hypocritical
pretences.' lean scarcely, endure her pres
ence. Ugh 1 I don't see how the brazen thing
can dare to face me." At this instant Mrs.
Doles appears, coming up smilingly to Mrs.
Boles. The twain embrance, and Mrs. Bole3
exclaims, with all the apparent sincerity df an
earthly saint,'"Oh! my dear Mrs. Doles! I
was just this instant speaking of you to Mrs.
Foles. I was saying how lonesome we should
be without you here. I have almost made up
my mind to scold you for being so late. Take
off your furs ; here, Mary, take Mrs. Doles'
furs, rubbers, and, bonnet. No; no, I insist;
yon must stay for tea."
Ten minutes later while Mrs. Holes is absent
from the parlor, Mrs. Doles whispers to Mrs.
Coles, "What a smooth-faced simpleton Mrs.
Boles is. She is so vulgar in her ways, and
she does keep such mixed company. Really,
if it hadn't been , that I wanted to see you, 1
should not have called. Ob, here she is."
Such conversations are considered as social
amenities. They are not deceits. Oh, no !
Not the vilest and at the same time the most
absurd of sins. Ladies, we are told, are like
Metamora, and "cannot lie." They are only
deceitful in a social point of view, not perso
nally. They cannot bo held accountable, per
sonally, for the commissions of such sin? as
form tbe foundation of fashionable society,
and its only maintenance sociality only.
Now that the writer of this "odious article"
has ventilated a sufficiency of examples of tbe
little deceits of society, shall we abolish them 7
Shall we have no more deceits, no more hy
pocrisy, no more sham? Emphatically, yes ;
we must have them. Were we all to speak fo
each other as we think, at all times and in all
places, every man and woman of us would be
deadly hostile to every one else. There would
be no friendships, no gossip, nothing but dire
and continuous sniveling, bickering and mis
ery. Soirees, Re-unions, tete-a-tetes, Christ
mas rejoicings, New Year's festivities, none
of them would we have. We would stare at
each other, fight like cats and dogs ; groan
and growl, and mayhap the most excitable
would go mad with anger. Not one of us
that would, were the veil of other people's
: f , - i-i , . . . r
wpiuiou imea so mac eacn 01 us wouia "see
ourselves as others see us," or could think
himself or herself other than the most abject,
worthless being on earth except those be or
sne nated.
Queer but substantial necessities, these lit
tie deceits which we daily practice, to which
those oftenest resort who are the loudest
mouthed in condemning the great bugbear,
"lhe Hypocrisy of bociety."
KOBE LETTERS.
The Philadelphia papers contain the corres
pondence between Mr. Vandyke, late U. S.
District Attorney in that city, and the Presi
dent. It was brought out by the Covode In
vestigating Committee.
. The President, in a note to Mr. Vandyke,
apprises Dim ot the intended removal upon
the ground that "the official duties of the
Collector of an important port and those
of the District Attorney are in their nature
so intimately connected that it is quite
impossible for them to conduct the public
business with due regard to te public in
terest, whilst they are in a state of such
open and inveterate hostility, as to forbid
all personal and official intercourse with each
other."
Mr. Vandyke replies by saying that the per
sonal relations between him and the Collec
tor, Mr. Baker, are not such as to conflict with
the public interests, and are precisely the
same as they were at the time of his appoint
ment and when at the President's personal
solicitation he accepted the office, and are tbe
same as they had been, with the full knowl
edge of tbe Administration, for nearly one
year previous to that appointment. He then
goes on to say :
" My relations with the Collector, as I have
frequently informed you in conversation and
by letter, are the result of my unwillingness to
approve the conduct of trie Collector in his tyran
nicul abuse of the patronage of the Federal Gov
ernment, wiih a view to control the wishes of the
people in their primary local elections. This, in
conformity with your own just views as ex
pressed in times past, when in 1839-'40,
1843-'44 and 1817-M8, it was supposed that
the same power was used to prevent your poli
tical advancement, I have always disapproved
and discountenanced, to tho extent of my abi
lity. The banding together by a Collector of
Customs, of , tho entire , force of subordinate
federal officers, the necessities of many of
whom may compel them to yield their own
convictions to his threats of removal, and the
controlling of the political preferences of
other persons under promises of appointment,
are infringements of the rights of the people,
a violation of the Democratic spirit of our
institutions, and at all times dangerous to the
purity and perpetuity of an elective govern
ment." . ,"t.. . '
lie gives, as another reason, the fact . that
the Collector paid to persons professedly em
ployed in the revenue service large salaries
out of the public treasury, when such persons
notoriously do, not discharge the duties ot
their appointment, but either devote their
time to other business callings, or are en
gaged in the discharge of other public duties
properly compensated for at a lower rate of
salary. ,:
This is a very plain and very full justifica
tion of the Attorney. Mr. Buchanan does not
attempt to parry its force, but repeats that
Mr. Vandyke must be removed for his hosti
lity to the Collector. We have thus the Pre
sident's own authority for saying that he has
removed a faithful public servant, solely be
cause he refused to become a party to the ty
rannical abuse? of tbe power of the Govern
ment to help the Democracy, and was oppos
ed to the squandering of the public money
upon political favorites who rendered no pub
lic service. .
The Collector of the Port of Philadelphia,
Mr. J. E. Baker, is a relative of the Presi
dent. Besides making a corrupt and tyranni
cal use of his office, with the connivance of
the President, he quartered his brother, Geo.
W. Baker, on tho treasury, who, in his exa
mination before the committee, said he receiv
ed a salary of $2,200 per annum, and yet could
not state any duty be had ever performed, ex
cept a single trip to New York, a service which,
it appears by the testimony, could have been
performed by a competent person for the sum
of $50. It is added, by those familiar with the,
case, that the committee will have evidence be
fore them that Baker, instead of acting in favor
of the Government in revenue cases, as alleged,
appeared to defend persons charged with smug
gling, and this whilo he was holding an office
in the Custom House, and at a time when he
stated he was assisting the District Attorney.
A certified copy of the Record of the IT. S.
Commissioners' office at Philadelphia fully
makes out this fact.
, Mr. Vandyke-, astonished at such acts as
these, made some inquiries, by letter, at Wash
ington, as to whether they were authorized by
the government ; and it was probably the fear
of an official exposure' through Mr. Vandyke,
that caused bis removal. The President stands
by his relatives and their corrupt use of the
public money, and tho honest public officer
goes to me wan. .
Among the many issues of base coin which
from time to time were made in Ireland, there
was none to be compared in worthlessness to
that made by James II, at the late Dublin
Mint. It was composed of anything on which
he could lay his hands, such as lead, pewter,
copper and brass ; and so low was its intrinsic
value that 20 shillings of it was worth' only two
pence sterling. William III.,' a few days after
the battle of, the. Boy ne, ordered that the
crown piece and half crown should be taken
as one penny and one half penny respectively.
The soft mixed metal of which that worthless
coin was composed, was known among the
Irish as uim bog, pronounced 00m bug, i. e.,
soft copper, f . e., worthless money ; and in the
course of their dealings the modern use of the
word humbug took its rise, as , in the perfect
phrase. ; " That's a piece of nimbug." Don't
think to pass off your uimbug on me." Hence
the word humbCg came to be applied to any
thing that had a spurious appearance, but which
was in reality not spurious. It is curious to
note that the very opposite of humbug, i. e.
false metal, is the word sterling, which is also
taken from a term applied to the true coinage
of Great Britain,' as sterling, coin, sterling
worth, &c. "7 "' -1 :
'"' EE?" When a 'lover dotes on his darling, a
refusal acts as an anti-dofc.
HOW TO KEEP A HOTEL.
A man may be a first rate fellow, as Matt
Peel used to say, and yet not know how to
keep a hotel. If ability in hotel keeping be a
test of a good fellow, there is cne man for
whom we can vouch as all sorts of a good fel
low. He keeps a hotel or country tavern, if
you will, away down in tbe interior of Arkan
sas, somewhere. Tbe way we happened to
bear of him was this :
Several weeks ago, two well-known gentle
men of this city went traveling for their health,
and concluded to try the famous Hot Springs
of old 'Rackensack." There being neither
river, railroad nor canal to take a body to tbe
Springs, our travelers hired horses to ride in
that manner to their destination. They un
luckily followed the wrong road, or else there
was no rigit road to follow ; at any rate they
gotlost,and after a fatigningdays ride through
a barren, inhospitable wilderness, they came
to a neat little building, standing alone in a
woods, with farming appendages around. Our
travelers halted and hallooed. A great tall,
raw-boned giant of a fellow stepped out.
"Can we get lodging here to-night 7" asked
one of the horsemen.
"Well, gentlemen, I reckon ye kin," said
the big one, "and welkim to boot, this is a
hotel."
The travelers, although they did not like
the cut of the landlord's jib, dismounted were
relieved of their horses, and were soon rega
ling themselves over a good country supper,
of corn-dodgers, bacon, milk, fried chickens
and coffee. It was a regular country supper,
and with their whected appetites, our invalids
enjoyed it amazingly.
Alter supper tbe gigantic landlord sat on
the porch with them, talking, cracking jokes,
and treating them occasionally to some good
old rye, of which he appeared to have a plen
tiful stock. The invalids set him down for a
regular "brick," and were still better pleas
ed when lighted at last to nice soft feather
beds with the whitest of sheets.
"I till you what it is, Bill," said Tom, as
they were sinking gently into tbe embraces
of Somnus, "this fellow keeps a nice place if
it is out here in the woods."
"That's a fact," replied Bill, "and I sup
pose it's cheap place, too; but I like it, and
I'm willing to pay the full city figure on it."
Next morning our travelers were aroused by
their ugly, but affable landlord, and regaled
with a breakfast, it possible, still more appe
tizing than the last night's work had been
The horses were brought round and it was
evident that they, too, had been well cared
for. One of the travelers pulled out his wal
let, and said to tbe big entertainer: .
"Well, landlord, you keep a first rate little
hotel out here : better than wo expected to
find. : We are much pleased with it, and want
The landlord drew himself up, and putting
on a very sullen look, said :
' "Gentlemen, I'm pleased to hear yer satis
fied. . The bill is two hundred and seventy-five
dollars." ,
"How much did you say, sir 7" asked the
travelers, both starting.
The big one drew himself np a little higher,
looking still more solemn,and replied distinct
ly and emphatically
. "Two hundred and seventy-five dollars gen
tlemen." "Do I hear right, sir f do you really mean
to charge us two hundred and seventy-five
dollars for two meals and lodging and horse
feed,?"
"Gentlemen,', said the landlord, with the
most alarming sangjroid, "that's no mistake.
Two hundred and seventy-five dollars is the
bill."
The invalids got scared. They did not feel
strong enough to 5ght ; and if they bad, could
never have hoped to make anything out of the
ungaiuly giant who stood composedly before
them. Without saying another word, the
traveler with the wallet squeezed it, and peel
ed its difierent pockets, and succeeded in
handing over the full amount required. The
landlord thanked his guests politely, and ho
ped if they should pass that way they would
give him a call.
The travelers were now on their horses, and
prepared to renew their solitary ride. Before
getting far off, however, the traveler who had
sodisgorged, turned in his saddle and hailed
the landlord.
r"I say, landlord," shouted he, "before I go,
I'd just like to ask you a question a civil
question at which you can take no offense."
"Fire ahead, gentlemen," was the answer ;
"ye've paid your bill, and yer welkim to ask
anythin', without offence."
"Well, how in the name of Heaven did yon
come to charge ns two hundred and seventy
five dollars for one night's accommodation,
not worth more than five or six dollars at the
outside V ,
"Certainly, gentlemen, I'll tell yer and wel
kim. Yer see I keep a hotel ; and sometimes
I has customers, and sometimes I hasn't.
When I hasn't I has to charge accordin, and
as you are the first customers I've had well
nigh onto a year, yer bill was a little bigger'n
it "inout a bin, otherwise. The hotel has to
be kept up, gentlemenand when customers is
scarce, I has to charge accordin."
"Good morning, landlord," said both the
travelers, and they both rode off satisfied.
They didn't go on to the springs, however.
They took the back track to the river and re
turned to the city for some more money, the
big botel keeper having pretty nearly cleaned
them out. Re-supplied with funds, they were
soon off to the Virginia Springs, being unwil
ling to trust themselves again among the hotels
of Arkansas interior.
They, declare, though, that the big land
lord who fleeced them was a capital fellow, all
sorts oi a fellow,and knows how to keep a Hotel.
We think, on the whole.official swindling in
Austria is a little more systematic and scien
tific than it has become in this country. A
letter in the London Times, mentions a very
curious mode by which Army contractors plun
dered the Government. They agreed to de
liver cattle at so much a head in Mantau. The
cattle were driven in atone gate and counted,
driven through tho town, out at another
gate and around the city the to first gate, were
counted again, and so on until the same cat
tle bad actually been countedyite times ! The
contractors also sold the hides : but unfor
tunately they could only deliver the bides of
ont-ffth as many catile as they had received
pay for from the Government. This Is a little
ahead of our City Railroad schemes : but we
are a young people, comparatively, and have a
wonderful facility at learning. ' "
AN OILY LETTER.
A facetious correspondent of the Sandusky Re
gister, writing from the oil region of Trumbull
county, Ohio, makes the following good '-hit" at
the big stories which re told about the oil discov
eries by some of the newspapers :
"I arrived here at a very late hour, last night,
on an oil train, and might as well have come on
train oil, aa we were sixteen hours behind time, 1
learn, owing tstbe accumulation of oil on the track
at this end of the road. The oil fries out of the
ground and lubricates tho rails for a great dis
tance. We shouldn't have arrived hero at all if
the passengers hadn't got out and sprinkled the
track with cigar ahes. I slipped out of bed no
body 'arises' here : we all slip into bed and slip
out at an early hour this morning, and began my
investigations. I found a section embracing four
teen thousand acres of land chuck full of oil
springs, drilling is unnecessary here, as tbe oil
boils up in springs, sometimes to the height of 2
feet, end is caught in tin pails as it comes down.
On a hot day, I am told, it is no unuaual thing to
ee the women frying dough-nuts in theso jets of
the oil. The balls of dough are dropped into the
jets, where they are tossed about like corks in a
fountain, until they are fried by the heat of the
sun. ' The only species of tree which abounds here
is the rlipjxry elm. These trees are so slippery a
squirrel can t climb them without dipping his
paws in prepared glue, a email bottle of which ho
always carries suspended about his neck There
are a few maple trees here, but no sugar is made,
as nothing but oil runs out when they are tapped.
There is one considerable sized creek running
through Trumbull county which is all oil. It was
discovered a short time ago in a singular manner.
Three boys went in bathing, and when they came
clothes. As, fast as they slipped them on they "
would slip off again, and one of the lads, in a heed
less moment, narrowly escaped slipping out of his
skin. On reaching home their parents, being ex
ceedingly frugal, wrung them out and extracted
fourteen gallons of pure oil from the tune lays !:'
Order of Rank Among Fi:rs. A large propor
tion of the furs used in this country and elsewhere
are cured and dressed in London ; and although
England does not use expensive furs, yet London
iq tli errant fur-mart nf thf fvrirlil Thp orvniriM ia
considered the most precious, and next to that the
Russian sable ; but the real sables are rare, for, ac
cording to our latest Russian r tatistics, only 25.000
skins of tho beautiful little ardmal were produced
during an entire year in the Czar's Empire. The
prices paid for them are almost fabulous, a fine set
being worth 52,000. The sable fur lining of one
of the Emperor's cloaks, exhibited at the World's
Fair in 1B51, was valued at $5,000. 'ext to tho
.U 2 J ... WU....WUk, . .1 11 .J 1111, .U U .
ten, or American sable a fur rich n nd high-priced,
yet so fashionable as to be almost universally
sought for. The Hudson Bay Babies are next in
value, and are almost as expensive as tbe Russian.
Xext is the mink, pre-eminent for beauty, wear
and durability. It is not, perhaps, so delicate
looking as the stone-marten, or so artful-looking
as the African monkey, or so captivating as the er
mine ; but it ia quiet and graceful, and more thrif
ty than them all. Besides the mink, the stone
marten, the fitch, the Siberian squirrel, nrd tha.
Persian and Russian lamb, are in daily nse-. Th'o
skin of the black bear forms the most magnificent
sleigh robes a good turn-out of which, including
robe and apron, costs upwards of $100. Tbe Ca
nadian furs most esteemed in Europe, and of which
they have no representatives, ore the thick fox
and the tilver fox. Tbey are found only in the
Hudson's Bay Territories or on the North shore of
the St. Lawrence. The raccoon and the rouskrat
are also confined exclusively to thiscontinent. In
England valuable furs are bu t little worn the cli
mate not requiring the lengthened wear of Furs at
any one time.' The muskrat and the rabbit, and
the American hare, dyed, form therefore the bulk
of the furs worn there. The value of tho.e export
ed from the United States in 1857 was31,116.041.
A Fickle IIoosier Girl. The Terre Ilaute. In
diana, Journal tells a story of a fickle lloosier
girl who went from that State to Marshall.. Illi
nois, recently, to get married, and who deserves to
stnr.d as a companion to the Mississippi girl who
married one man in the afternoon, eloped with an
other at night, and came back to her husband re
pentant the next day. The girl, with her lover,
was at a hotel where a returned Californian waj
stopping, and while the lover was out hunting a
preacher to marry them, the Californian saw her
name on the register and sought her out. He
proved to be an old lover to whom she was once
engaged. He reproached her for deserting him.
She cried and begged for forgiveness. A stormy
scene ended in her promising to break her present
engagement and go back to the arms of the Cali
fornian. Just as this arrangement was complete,
the other lover returned, and was very naturally
astounded at finding another mnn in his- place.
Explanations followed, and the girl being puzzled
as badly as Macbeth between her two lovers, for
sho ''could be happy with either, were fothcr denr
fellow away," they withdrew to decide the matter
themselves. The Californian finally resigned his
pre-emption, and the other married the girl at
once, the Californian acting as groomsman.
John iTerson was recently arrested and impris
oned at the South for aggravated polygamy : he
had thirteen wives. The daughter of the jailor
whose hospitality this insatiable polygamist was
enjoying while awaiting trial, believed him inno
cent, pitied him, loved him, opened the prison
doors, fied with bim, and became bis-fourteenth
wife. After eight days of domestic bliss the hus
band disappeared, and left neither trace nor mo
ney behind. A reward was offered for hi3 cap
ture ; a description of his fascinating person was
circulated; he was recognized in a village tavera
by a man who thought of the reward offered, and
set about preparing his toils for the victim. In
order to instil confidence into his breast, he made
his acquaintance, invited him to his mansion, and
then went off to procure legal assistance. When
he returned, his home was deserted alike by his
intended prey and his own wife, whom Iverson
had led astray. A wretched man suggests that a
proper, though a terribly severe punishment would
bo to compel this polygamist to live with his fif
teen wives at onco.
A Negro Trnxs White. The Eufaula, Alabama,
Spirit says that on a steamboat plying upon tha
river Chattahoochee, there is an old negro pilot,
whose skin has w ithin a few weeks changed its col
or from ebony black to dazzling white. His neck,
arms and hands have a delicacy of hue not sur
passed by that of the most beautiful Circassian,
and his lips are fresh and red as cherries r the rest
of his body is bleaching in the same way There
is no statute provision which will compel one to
believe this story.
A niece of new road in Concord. Mass.. which
had been in use about five years, suddenly disap
peared a few days since.. It was laid out across s
swamp, and was some six to seven rods in extent.
A man and one-horse team were at worK on it at
the time, and had a narrow escape.
N. W. Lvon. a Revolutionary soldier, died at hij
residence in Easton, Conn., on the ISth April, in
his 101st year. He was engaged in the Commis
sariat Department of the Army for some time.
The Academy of Sciences of Paris occupied a
part of its last sitting in discussing the question
whether tnere etui remained any Dears in u
County of Michigan, United States. '
'TTiA VAnnff ffAtitLman vYiv AnCfl aftw iflA tf? a V
. HI- J "ft .TUW " J
when he "wouldn't atsociate with mechanioe," is
now acung as cier& to a manure wagou.