it i a 1 , J B. F. SCHWEIER, THE COXSTITCTIOS THE UNION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. VOL. XXVII. MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., DECEMBER 3, 1S73. NO. 49. SliiiirS :jyHfi& ill Xoeti-v. . - Myaterjr. Wonder frwk and Baple, ' Willow ui elm ui all. Are stirred at heart by the coining. Of the dy their leave Bast fall! la they think of the yellow whirlwind Or kuv of the crimson spray That .hall he when chill Sovember , bear all their leavca away? Perhaps I Beside the water The a Ulow beaJs, aerett A when her joung leaves glistened la a Bint of gold.- green ; but the brave .Id oak 1 Buahing To a wintered, dark and deep. And maple and elm are blushing Te blush of a cUi:d asleep. "If die we Boat," the leafleta Been one by ooe to say, . ' W will wear the colors of gladaea Cutil we pass away. So eye shall sf us flur ; And before we lsy it down. We'll wear, la the light of all the earth, The rears' u.oet kingly crows ! Bj, tree of th stately forest, , A&d trees by lh trodden way, , Yoa ar kindling into a tiry This soft autumnal day ! Aad we who gase reBeuber That, box than all they hut, . To hearts aad tres t igether May cone through the ripening frU. Ioeoiitnry. The ueck of the peack, The Iris's dyes. Tut light in the opal, . The Aprtl-dsy skies Would they be lovely. As tul of thes are. Bat for the chance Aad the change that are there Breathe n vow to toe. 1 i:i fiive uonof Biao; Love should light la aa Instant, As quickly decline. Hi- blubes, his slcht. Are bewildering thiag ; Then swsy with his fetters. And give me his wiags. . Uoi L-inJon. A u Interview witti ibe I'oet Vtltlltirr. During a summer's ramble among the green hilis of Now England, diversified with many interesting incidents, is one of peculiar interest a visit to the Qua ker poet, Wbittier : Upon a pleasant morning in early sn miner we It ft Newburyport, a large, old-fashioned tovn in Eastern Massa chusetts, for Almsburv, a small manu facturing town, chiefly noted as the residence of Wbittier. We rode along by the side of the silver Merrimack aa it hastens on to seek the ocean, near old Salsbnry, hose white sanJs are "visible, lying eastward a few miles. Situated upon the left bank of the river is a tine estate k no wn as the Laurels, from the beautiful plant of that name which adorus the entire region. Upon an eminence ovetlcokiug the river is a paint itd residence which was ocenpied tor the Feason by the English Embassador, Sir Edward Thornton. An hour's drive through this leantifnl country brought us to the residence of the sw?e.t bard of the Merrimack, John O. Wbittier. At hi plain, unpretending mansion we alighted, feeling somewhat doubtful of aa interview. But our fears were soon dispelled by the appearance of a pleasant little girl, who, upon our in quiry for Mr. Whittier, immediately ushered us into his study. There sat the poet beside a small table, over which hung an old-fashioned mirror, which -once graced the walls of his im mortalized homestead, and oft reflected the loved form of the dear sister whose lare, sweet asking eyes are now bathed in tint fudcless green of paradise." - Within the open fire-place were tlie charred remains of a wood fire, by whose light, doubtless, the poet mused the chilly evening past, recalling the scenes of childhood ; the faces of loved ones once gathered around the fireside in, the dear old homestead, among them, pdrchanee, the sweet Maud Mailer of his boyhood days. Upnn our entrance he arose, and with calm dignity greeted us with the cor diality of a friend. Allusion being made to onr trespass upon his time, be replied, My time is worth nothing. Sit as long as you wish; I am very happy to see you." "After a brief conversation concerning Iris old homestead, he said, with much feeling: "It is in the possession of a man who Las not driven a nail, in the way of repairs for years. I am trying to get it into my bauds. If I do not succeed I hope it will burn down." Speaking of autographs, Le said : "I am surprised at the tie ire of persons for autographs. I am the recipient of GOt) requeues annually for mine." In form and feature the poet is well represented by his pictures, but they fail to portray t'ie re lined and spiritual expression which illuminates his coun tenance in conversation. Ilia eyes are deep set, with an earnest light in them, which beam very kindly upon one, yet indicate fire in reserve for au occasional demand. His Lair is gray "" "As was his sire' that winter day." He combs it smoothly back from his lofty forehead. His whole appearance is spirituelle in milter and mind a true poet. After a half hours pleasant conversa tion we took leave, with a hearty re sponse in onr hearts to his fervent, God bless thee." "God bless thee, Whittier," we reiterate. Natural Soda Water Sprinz. These are at Colorado Springs, three days from Canon City. The wide repu tation of thesespriugs is not undeserved, aad the different ingredients with which the waters are charged, considering their close proximity, is quite remark able. .. The waters of the main springs contain- respectively iron, soda, and sulphur, together with other substances in minor quantities. The soda spring is particularly interesting, being heavi'.y charged with carbonic acid gas, whieh bubbles' up in a lively manner. Invert ing your glass and plunging it quickly into the spring, you obtain a delicious draft far superior to any ordinary soda water.' The water is led into bath horrses.and is considered very efficacious in the relief of rheumatism. It is cer tainly most refreshing. The hotel ac commodations are excellent and their situation very beautiful, built as they are in one of the main canons leading up to the Bocky Mountains aud entirely shut in by the foot hills. Pike's Peak rises grandly above all, forming the main feature in the scenery. At a candy-pull recently the two-gallon pot full of blazing liquid was put out in the yard to cool, while the jolity went on inside. The cat's corpse was re moved and the candy givea to the poor. A VOW AXD now I IE KEI'T IT. The little Tillage of C , where I spent some of the happiest days of my life, is as lovely and retired a spot as a man could desire to behold. It lies in a sequestered Talley, the existence of which is known to but few beside its inhabitant!! Tt ia frwa frrvm tl.u knetl. ! of the great world the fever of specu lation naa never reached it. let it is a place that has been marked by savage conflicts. The ring of the musket and the charge of horsemen have, ere now, resounded among the green hills that encircle it. It is an old settlement originally built by the French, who held it long enough to fail into apathy and forget to guard it as securely as they should have done, when a sturdy British force coming np the river in barges, one fine moonlight night, took the garrison and the place at the same moment. How well I remember that beautiful river. How often by sunshine and moonlight I have sported over its tran quil bosom. How often have I gathered the wild grapes that grew along its shady banks. Of all the companions who shared my idle rambles, not one is left who bears not on his brow the stamp that the iron hand of the world s education has affixed there. All of them now are sober, earnest men and women, aud I might look in vain for a Military trace of the yonthful characteristics that distinguished them. At the distance of a mile from the river, was an old but handsome man sion, with a fine lawn stretching away from it on every side, while magnificent old trees thickly surrounded it. The owner of this property, Thomas Alford, was a man past the ineridi&n of life ; his family consisting of his wife and daughter Agnes. Mr. Alford did not make the mansion his habitual residence his home was chiefly in the city, but . early every spring the Aitord family came to their country place, remaining , until the birds begun to leave for a southern clime. The Alfords were looked upon by the simple people of the country around as beings of a superior order, and were imitated by the better sort in all their fashions and behavior. Mr. Alford was, of course, a person of wealth, quiet in his habits, having an easy, kind nature, and rarely trou bled himself about anything, so long as he had good dinners and a full supply of wine. His wife was a bustling little woman, full of fire and energy, having her absolute sway in all that pertained in and about the country seat. In years long past, her husband had learned to submit to her authority, and yield in all that she contested. By this means he was able to secure an interrupted do mestic peace, as the only compensation for the dignity he surrendered. He never mourned the loss of his sceptre, but placidly resigned himself to make the best of his situation. This was the condition of affairs in his home at the time of which we write Agnes Alford was a brown-headed blue-eyed girl of nineteen years. Showy in appearance, and very amiable and condescending to every one in the neighborhood. These traits gave her a certain popularity none of the other members of the family ever possessed. When the grand old carriage would roll np to the little church on Sundays, whirling a great cloud of dust upon the foot passengers, they frowned on Thomas Alford, and his stately wife, but smiled pleasantly upon the daugh ter. It was late one summer when a city gentleman, named Charles Addison, made his appearance in the village on his way to the mansion of Thomas Alford. From the day of his advent to the hour of his departure, the villagers saw him sufficiently often to form a strong dislike to him. He was un doubtedly the suitor of Agnes Alford, being forever at her side when she moved abroad. He was very communi cative and talked incessantly, but his flippant language an J offensive haugh tiness soon made him a mark for the tongue of the gossips. He was a con ceited little mortal, wearing a light blue frock coat, and walking with a brisk step, nodding with a patronizing air to those with whom he had made acquaint ance, and rehearsing the hair-breadth escapes he had passed through in his travels abroad There also came to the village of C the same summer, a young gentleman who put np at the inn, and seemed to employ his time in fishing and hunting the woods for plants. This person gave his name as Martin Long. He was agreeable in his manners, but extremely reticent. He would sit for whole hoars among a party of the villagers, and never voluntarily contribute a word to the conversation. . Xet all the while he would maintain a respectful and inter ested air, replying courteously but briefly, when addressed. Oftimes he was seen to walk toward the mansion, but he invariably stopped short of the great wooden gate, and gazing earnestly up at the house, would linger a few moments as if in meditation, and then torn back again to the inn. He would be somotimes at the window of his little room or at the door, when Addison came by with Agnes Alford. At such times he would instantly dis appear, seeking some seclusion where he no longer could view them. There were some acute observers among the denizens of C , and none more so than one Peter Horn, the schoolmaster, who made nightly visits to the inn where Martin Long had taken up his abode. If there was any one who could melt the frozen nature of the stranger, Horn was the man. He had no difficulty in making Long's acquaint ance, and this was all he desired at the moment, trusting to the future for the accomplishment of his purpose. By degrees he made himself on excellent terms with Long, and when not engaged in his duties, was always sure to be found in his society. ' The scheme of Peter Horn was a good one, so far as it related to its ultimate object. There is scarcely a human being who can long hold out against kindness and sympathy, if there be no malice in the case, and they are not foes. It. therefore, was not a great while before the reserve of Long's na ture yielded, and Horn and himself wero on terms of confidence. One day they were out fishing, and Horn having inadvertently made some remark which awakened unpleasant memories in the breast of Martin Long, he laid aside his rod and repeated the following story : 'From my boyhood the book of na ture was my familiar study. My delight was to ramble by woods and streams, gather flowers, and with some favorite book pass away days in a gay bewilder ment of fancy. My disposition ever inclined me to be a solitary being. Not that I wish you to suppose I am insen sible to either the joys or sorrows of life, Not so. I can sympathize with the grief-stricken and rejoice with those who are happy, but I must do it in my own way. I might hv been a useful man to society, but I never had the opportunity. A crushing calamity came upon me, ana a bitterness and revenge took possession of my heart, and will ever remain there until I have fulfilled my sworn vow. This last expression he pronounced with deep emphasis and unusual earn estness. Pausing for a few moments evidently for the purpose of controlling a strong feeling, ne proceeded. "There are some men in the world to whom nature seems to have denied the commonest feelings of our race men who have no humanity about them men who despise and disclaim)eTerything like sympathy, aa troublesome and ont of place, and who would as soon dwell in a desert or on an island shut out from the world as anywhere else, save perhaps that they could not have virtue and innocence to prey on; in short, your cool, calculating scoundrels, who witness the suffering they bring by the gratification of their hellish passions. "My sister Ann was one of those spe cimens of loveliness and credulous con fidence that we sometimes see combined. One of those girls which, if fortune does not too sorely try, makes a perfect woman. "There was a certain notary in my town by the name of Addison. My father's business was transacted by him, and through this ciroumstanoe we came to be intimate with his family. It was a sad day for all of us when we became acquainted with them. "Samuel Addison was upwards of fifty years old, bore a good reputation, and had an extensive business. My father's affairs in his hands never suf fered. He was punctual, correct, dili gent in all his acts, and yet beneath this garb he bore the heart of a fiend incarnate. "My siBter Ann formed a great at tachment for the wife of Samuel Addi son, and scarcely a day passed that she did not pay them a visit, for we were close neighbors. Nor was I less im pressed with the integrity of the Addi sons than others of our family. Charles Addison and myself were inseparable companions, I being a trifle his senior ; but our ages nearly corresponded, though you would scarcely think it. Now when I look back on my life, I can perceive the perils I might have avoided if I had possessed the spirit of prophecy. This alone could have saved me the ills I have suffered, and aa this gift is no longer vouchsafed to mortal men, it was not strange that I mingled in the vortex that engulphs the unfortunate. I don't think I have deserved the care, sorrow and guawing grief I have borne for so many years, in that I have wilfully done evil. Have I crimes to confess ? Not yet, though soon I may. Have I debauched my morals or debased my affections ? No, not in thought. Has time fled with careless hours till I am his debtor for more than future industry will pay? Not so. This can never be truthfully charged to me, and over them I utter no lamentation. But what I do lament is, the confidence I put in my fellow-man, the betrayal of the common ties that bind mind to mind, man to man. "It was during the period that our intercourse with the Addison family was unrestrained, that I went to Europe. My father years before had promised me this trip, and I was to be absent six months. "I had been gone about two months when I received intelligence that my sister was engaged to Charles Addison, but the event would be deferred until my return. The news was pleasing to ; me, Tor I valued Addison notwithstand- ing his flippant character. I thought I had discovered something good in him, though very many people regarded him with disfavor. " "1 was almost ready to return to my home, when the next arrival across the ocean brought me a letter from, my father that nearly drove me insane. In an evil hour my poor confiding sister had yielded to the temptations of her betrothed, and surrendered all that a woman values life, soul and honor. "Almost crawling to the door of Samuel Addison, she told her tale of shame, aad implored the father to canse the son to make good his promise. With a Btern command never more to show her face to him, my unhappy sis ter was spurned from his door, and his son sent abroad. When I was able to reach home all that was mortal of my sister was sleeping beneath the green grass in the churchyard. "For three weary years I have watched and watched to perform a tow, of which I have never repented. I have a stern, dark, terrible duty to perform, and it shall be done as an earnest man should do it" He ceased, and gazed at Peter Horn with quivering lip and glistening eye. The latter was evidently at a loss to reply, for he looked intently at the end of his fishing rod, and appeared in deep reflection. "What do you think such a fiend de serves ?" inquired Long with a fierce ness Horn scaroely deemed him capable of evincing. "I'm afraid to tell you," replied the schoolmaster. "It is a very, very sad trial you have known." Long indulged in a low, bitter laugh. "Do you know that the community in which we live have quite forgotten this terrible crime T It but serves to illustrate the structure on which society is built. All have forgotten the great wrong but those whose hearts will ache over the remembrance until they are laid at rest." 1 For the next few days Martin Long incessantly walked in the vicinity of Mr. Alford's mansion. One morning Horn, having a vacation in his school, called for his friend to take a walk. Willingly," replied Long, "for I had a dream last night, or rather, per haps, I ought to term it a vision. My poor sister came to me and informed me that we should soon meet. Do you. knotq what that meant t" The schoolmaster shook his head, thinking his friend's mind was wander ing. "Come," he said, "let us be oft" There was a high bluff about a mile east of Mr. Alford's home, and the cliff looked directly over a ravine filled with broken rocks. A creek had once run there, bnt years before it had gone dry. Horn and his friend seated themselves among some bushes and began reading. Suddenly there came a step and the sound of snapping twigs, and a few minutes later Charles Addison stood directly in front of his foe. With a start and whiteness of the cheek, he retreated a few stops, gazing intently on Long as if to make sure it was really the brother of his poor victim. "I came to seek he stuttered. "And have found that you did not expect," answered Long, rising to his feet and striding up to him. "Martin," said the terrified wretch, "indeed you never properly understood that unfortunate) affair. I assure you no one could be more sorry " He never finished the lie that was on his lips. With the ferocity of a tiger Long sprang upon the betrayer of his Bister and throttled hint As well aa he was able, Addison made a stout de fence, but his antagonist was the stronger man ; moreover, he was goaded by the pent up revenge of years. The scuffle was desperate, and all the while the schoolmaster was appealing to Long for mercy to his foe, but he came not near the combatants. By an almost superhuman effort Long dragged the struggling man to the edge of the precipice. "Now die like a beast," he exclaimed, fairlv flinging his foe out into the air. There was a heavy crash among the bushes that grew down the side of the cliff, and the next moment the mangled body of Charles Addison was quivering in deatn. If Peter Horn stood rooted with hor ror, he yet had to witness a sight that would curdle his blood for the balance of the years he might live. Drawing a pistol from his breast. Ixmg coolly placed it to bis temple, and ere Horn could spring forward to arrest nis nana, he had buried a ball deep in his brain. So died two men, and God must judge whose motives deserve the greatest mercy. Barbarous Cnaioni. Abduction was one of the barbarons customs prevalent in Ireland from the middle ages till late in the last century. As the motive of abduction was nearly always money, the savage practice had not even a tinge of romance or wild chivalry to sanctify it A popular notion prevailed that it was no abduction if the girl rode on the saddle, and the man behind her. - In 1707 an Act was passed rendering abduction by force a capital offence. An Abduction Club existed at one time in the South of Ireland. The members drew lots for the heiresses of the country, and the club hired emis saries to ascertain the habits of the family, the houses the young lady was likely to visit, and the best means of carrying her off safely. The saddest tragedy in connection with this infamous crime occurred in Derry in liGL A reckless, dissipated voung merchant squireen, named McNaghten, persuaded the daughter of a Mr. Knox, of Prehen, to plight herself to him. The pretended marriage being set aside in the spiritual court, McNagh tn threatened to lie in wait and murder the judge. The result was that the rascal was obliged to flee to England, whence, however, he returned to hide himself in the woods at Prehen. Hear ing that Mr. Knox was about to take his daughter to Dublin to wean her from the love of such a scoundrel, McNaghten and three men lay in wait for the car riage and stopped it They first shot and disabled a blacksmith, who was the husband of Miss Knox's nurse, and her armed guard. The blinds being drawn, McNaghten discharged a heavily-loaded blunderbuss into the carriage, killing Miss Knox on the spot A shot was then fired from the carriage, which hit the murderer, who was at the same time wounded by a shot from Mr. Knox's servant, who had hidden himself behind a turf-stack. The country was soon alarmed, and five hundred pounds offered for the culprit A company of light horse scouring the country found tue wounded wretcn Hidden in a farmer's hayloft He made a desperate resistance, but was lodged in Lifford jail. At the trial McNaghten was brought into court in a blanket, and laid on a table in the dock. The mur derer was condemned to death, and was hung on the road near Strabane and Derry. McNaghten appeared on the day of execution clothed in black. Exerting all his remaining strength to throw himself off the ladder, he did so with such impetuosity that the rope broke, and he fell groaning to the ground. The crowd, pitying his cour age and misfortune, tried to induce him to escape ; but the man refused, saying proudly "that he would never live to be pointed at as the half-hnged man 1" He called to his servant, who was also waiting to be hung, removed the rope from his neck and placed it on his own. He then collected his energies, mounted the ladder, threw himself off, and died without a struggle. C'liineflC Featlval. Many persons residing in the imme diate neighborhood of the principal joss-house have for the past week no ticed several Chinamen buildig a dra gon of enormous size, with crested head and horned body. This is the god of the festival of An Ten, or the moon, one of the greatest importance in the Chinese calendar to the women, who pay him extreme devotion, as - hi' malignity appears to be directed solely against their sex. Last evening, just as the darkness was settling over the city, there was hung in front of every house occupied by the Chinese a large and fantastically ornamented lantern, the purpose of which is to ward off evil genii. Our party, leaving the saloon, proceeded to the Tung Wa Mea Temple, where we arrived just as several Chinese priests were sounding gongs, cymbals and haut-boys, which were to call the disciples of Confucius to worship. Soon crowds of Chinamen and women began to enter the temple and pray ia their peculiar style. The temple was more gorgeously decorated than usual, and a description furnished by Lee Sang of the paintings seemed to me to be inter esting. The guardians of the outer gates were two large mummy figures, eight feet high, and dressed in elabor ately decorated tinsel and paper dresses. They keep off interlopers and guard the different divisions. In one of these are hung five long banners, on which are represented the punishments be stowed on vile and refractory women. On each we see a judge, showing the culprit's good virtues, while on the other side the evil genius shows her vice. Women are depicted as receiv ing punishments, to say the least simply barbarous. We have them with the cangue or stone collar on, and flounder ing in a sea of boiling blood. Some are represented tied to the pillory and fed on fire, some are being thrown into seas of molten lead. Again we see demons putting women into a wheel through what looks like a coffee-hopper, and crushing them. These punishments are, however, offset by several other paint ings which are greatly worshipped by the Chinese women. They represent virtuous women, who are resting on dragons and flowers. They are dressed in purple and gold, and have the dragons embroidered in the imperial color, yellow and gold, on their breasts. Their feet rest on green cushions. In the center of the temple hangs a large lamp, around which revolve figures de scriptive of battle scenes. There are four battle scenes, with manikin figures of virtuous women and cruel men. The women are of course victorious. A large table commemorative of the feast hangs over all. An Iowa woman brags that she could have married two men a day for the past two years, if she had any use for such rubbish. As she has a rich coal mine and a hacking cough, her state- mem nas an air oi reuaojiiiy. In a) Sugar Refinery. Refilling sugar is not the neatest business to be found. First, the sugar in filthy black bags, covered with mud. and boxes smeared over with bilge water and filth, is landed at the docks, where von see those immense sugar- houses. Then stevedores carry it back to a big copper vat filled with hot water, break open the boxes, cut open the bags, and knock in the heads of the hogsheads, and let it all dirt, mud, sticks, shoes, old hats, pipes, bones, undissolved newspapers and sleeveless shirts yes, let all slide into the vat together. They place the filthy old hogsheads, soiled bags and dirty boxes into a steam vat, steam and wash off the dirt and sugar, and then put that in too. Then a greasy old man stirs it up, occa sionally, expectorating tobacco-juice here and there, and scraping his filthy mud into the future frosting of our wedding-cake. In five hours they draw, from this witches chowder, syrup as pure as colorless and odorless as ice water, and as clean, too. All dirt. salM, smells, and every material obstacle or gaseous odor is separated, and transparent liquid sugar runs out as water trickles from a crystal spring. First, the dirty liquid is pumped into one thousand gallon cauldrons, with a steam pipe in the bottom. Then blue litmus (paper soaked in blue cabbage juice) is dipped into it to see if it is sour. If it is sour, the blue paper is changed to red. Then, they throw in a pail of lime. This kills the acid, or the acid leaves the sugar to attack the lime, when, bke the Kilkenny cats, they are both eaten np. If you pour acid in soft soap, the alkali (another form of lime) will leave the grease to feed upon the acid. Then the half-naked men who work over the hot eanldrons pour five gal lons of warm bullock's blood, fresh from the 6laughter-houses. into each 1,000 gallons of melted sugar. The white of eggs would be better, bnt eggs cost too much, while blood, which is almost as full of albumen, only costs eleven cents per gallon. This blood "settles" the sugar as an egg "settles" your coffee that is, the albumen seizes lold of every particle of dirt, and holds it Then, when they raise the temperature to ISO degrees, the blood, lime, dirt, sticks, &, float to the surface, while the syrup, yellow and quite transpa rent, is drawn off through strainers from the bottom, leaving the scum on top. This scum and dirt are rinsed with clean water, the sweet part saved to wet up a fresh lot of sugar, and the dirt carted off as a fertilizer. They take a ton of rich manure out of the syrup every day. Ice syrup is strained j through bags long cloth bags, having , four or five thicknesses of cloth in them. They catch all the heavy dirt, little stones, sand, 4c., and the syrup leaves them transparent, only slightly tinged with yellow. These bugs take . out about four per cent of dirt real ; black mucky dirt the same as you see in the streets. The syrup is now ninety-three per cent, purefsugar, whereas it was but eighty per cent hve hours ago. There remains seven per cent, of coloring, foreign salt3 and gases yet to be removed. This is done by filtering the yellow syrup through bone black or animal charcoal, (bones burnt black and ground up). Large iron tanks, looking bke upright steam boilers, are filled with 30,000 pounds of bone black each. Through this the syrup is made to trickle. As it comes out at the bottom it is pure and transparent as rock crys tal. A goblet of it looks like pure water. "Is it perfectly pure now ?" I asked the chemist "Yes, sir, as near as possible. It is 99 per cent pure sugar. How is this white transparent syrup made into the sugar 7 This is simply done by taking the water out of it This is accomplished by boiling it in a vacuum. It would boil like water in the open air and vola tize at 212 degrees Farenheit, but re move the air pressure and it will boil at 100. This amount of heat never burns it, and the sugar is white. After boiling the syrup down to a thick paste, it is drawn off in pots shaped like the old fashioned sugar-loaf. The small end has a hole in it, through which the water runs out, leaving the sugar to crystalize in a bard white cake, such as used to be sold in the market But now-a-days the pure white sngar-loaves are sawed up into regular shaped pieces of sugar. The soiled sngar loaves, or those with yellow streaks in them, are crushed into lumps, and the sawdust and leavings are made into granulated and pulverized sngar. Whero does tho yellow sugar come from? The syrup which runs out when the white sugar is crystalizing. The syrup grows more impure each time, until finally it cannot be crystalized. It is sour and salty. This impure or brown sugar is shovelled into a centrifugal re volving machine, which revolves two thousand times per minute. This throws out the water through a strainer, leav ing the sugar quite light and mealy. IVill Bridget Shrink?" A serious question in the household is whether Bridget will ttaud shrinkage as well as all the rest of the articles of value that are yielding to the stringency? The impression is, that it will be hard to bring the domes! io down to hard pan. That while she is tho servant in name, she is, in most families, the "mistress of the situation." A friend says that there is no talk of reducing Biddy's intrinsic worth. Any shrinkage in that direction would result in some thing too near annihilation to be thought of ; but her market price might be the subject of consideration perhaps of change. When, during the war, every thing took an upward turn, Biddy fol lowed the general rule, demaaded and got something more than a gold pre mium ; but gol 1 has since came down, which is what she seems in no hurry to do. Men will find their incomes grow ing smaller by degrees, and will be obliged to bear it as best they may, but any attempt to reduce the wages paid household servants, (relatively the best paid class among us) would be likely to raise a storm no ordinary man would care to encounter. The truth is, as has been often enough asserted, the female servants of to-day are, in this country, the mistresses, and can dictate terms. The reason is plain enough. While a man generally understands his business, and can, at a pinch, take the place of an employe, his wife knows more of almost anything else than she does of house hold affairs, and when left without ser vants is totally helpless. Of course, under such circumstances, Bridget will make a stout resistance to any redaction of wages, and her mistress must make up her mind to curtail in something else unless she should get a sudden fit of good sense and conclude to do s part, at least, of her own work. The "Legend of Missouri Cave. On the dividing ridge separating the waters of the Meramee from the Mis souri, in Franklin county, ia a cave, mainly remarkable from a tragic event which occured there in the early part of the century. The mouth of the cave is funnel-shaped, and about eighteen feet deep. A horizontal passage leads off in a southwest direction to a dis tance of two hundred and sixty feet when an enlarged chamber suddenly terminates in an abrupt chasm of un known depth. Judge Foster, of Wash ington, with a party from St Louis. explored the cave in 18oC, and when the abyss was reached they dropped down stones, which were from three to four seconds in falling before reaching the bottom, as was indicated by the rever berations. The tragic event connected with the cave exiots only in tradition among the old settlers, and few persons of the present day are probably aware of what we are about to relate. Early in the present century, a hunter from St Louis, named Labadie, connected with the families of that name identi fied with the history of this city, went out to Franklin county, then mostly a wilderness, in pursuit of game. "He had his son, a small lad with him. They got on the trail of a bear, which they followed until the animal took refuge in the cafe. Nothing daunted, Mr. Labadie followed the bear into its hid ing place, and never came out alive. The boy heard the report of a gun and then all was silent Ha watched and waited at the mouth of the cave for his father's return, but he came not back. The boy remained near the cave all day and night ud then gave up his father lor lost With his hatchet he "blazed" the trees around the spot, in order to identify the place, and then returned home. Whether search was made or not is not known, but the hunter, it is certain, was given up for lost, and his remains were allowed to rest in their rock-bound tomb. Time rolled on, and about twenty years ago, when the en gineers were laving out the track of the AaciUo railroad, which passad by the cave, they had the curiosity to enter and explore its secrets. They there found the bones of a bear and the skel eton of a human being lying close to gether. Not only this, bnt they also found an old musket barrel, half eiten by the rust and a small quantity of old French and Spanish coin. All these circumstances pointed to the old hunter Labadie as the person whose skeleton was thus revealed to the gaze of the ex plorers, and whose tragic history was preserved by tradition. The trees were also examined, aud the old scars caused by the hatchet of young Labadie were distinctly traced. Judge Foster has seen the coin. The relics and bones were distributed among various per sons. Judge Primm, whose familiarity with the history of Missouri is perhaps not exceeded by any other person, re collects hearing the story of Labadie and the bear over fifty years ago. The impression on his mind was that the hunter entered the cave during the hibernating season of the bear, and that, having fired his musket the in furiated beast rushed toward a nanow passage of the cavern where Mr. Laba die was standing, closed in with him and killed him. "Labadie creek" and "Labadie station" preserve the name of the daring hunter who h-4 his life in the vicinity. St. Louis Jt'-publican. The IjrnRnnft of To-Day. Mr. Ellis n. Roberts, writing home from Greece, gives this matter-of-fact account of the ancient abode of the muses : "Parnassus is the highest mountain in this part of Greece. It was practically inaccessible and its summits unknown. It was so remote that imagination might revel about it It was the haunt of nature unsullied and unsubdued. It was !high, often above the clouds ; pure, always covered by a mantle of snow ; picturesque, for it mounts from height to height, aud rises from different points of view. The dawn tinges it with its most beauteous hues, and the sun at its setting loves to linger about it Apollo had his chosen temple on its slope, and the mysteries of the oracle gathered the devout of the world to the valley at its base. So the poetry of every language derives its in spiration from Parnassus, and genius, untraveled, yet drinks from the Cas taliau waters. An Englishman whom we met hunting for birds and their eggs, assured ns that on the slopes of Parnassus eagles and vultures are found in numbers wonderf uLOne of the soldiers made the echoes ring with his musket and brought to us a bare still struggling in death wounds. The plateaus are sometimes rich in wild flowers. Wild roses and the ox-eyed daisy abound. The delicate wild morning glory peers modestly from the ground. The gor geous poppy is liberal with its decora tions of crimson. The blue lupins are conspicuous, the tiny forget-me-nots, the nemophibe, the blue bells, and butter enps larger than ours are com mon, and the pinkish-purple camomile creeps along the ground everywhere. The grass, where it exists, is thin and poor. The trees Itave all been cut on the lower slopes. On the high lands they grow to a fair size, and constitute dense forests, chiefly of a scrubby pine and fir. While the flow ers suggested the flora of California, and the chaparal is often identical with that of the Sierra Nevada, the trees here are dwarf in dimension and poor in numbers in comparison with the magnificent forests of the Pacific slope. "From the plain where we had launched, after a brief rest, we ascend to a ridge curving on the south and east and we leave on our left in a crannv of the hills, a collection of huts in which the peasants gather in summer to cultivate the highlands and to feed their flocks. As we ascend the ridge the upper valley of the Pleistus is at our feet fertile and well cultivated with grain and grape. It suggests closely the valley of the Little l'o Semite in California. Our horses wind their way on the rocky slopes, often precipitous and difficult, with the most picturesque of villages. Arachova, all the while in view." Statistics or Vamtar College. There are over 21 miles of gas pipe in the building which, including the vari ous stories, covers a floor space of over five acres. There are 410 young lady students, 50 professors, teachers, anil assistants,and 100 servants and helpers, making between five and six hundred persons, all of whom board upon the premises. A special telegraph wire and a horse railway extend from the College to Poughkecpsie, N. T., distant 2 miles. The young ladies drink 150 quarts of milk every day, swallow 150 pounds of butter, and 40 pounds of sugar for pudding sauce for one dinner. The students are required to spend one hour daily in the open air for exercise ; they have a lake, and boats for rowing in summer, and skating in winter. They have a riding school, bowling alley, gymnasium, etc. I Yoiitliss' Column. ig aerie. What fs the nse to M the Mora, And hang tlie head and comtort rrfaaa, BVcism we cant always have aU what we choose ? What doe it pay to pout ail day Because the sunshine wouldn't stay, IWvause Ike cloud Won't go away r Oh. wouldn't It he better Fr every Utile fretter To bauiah from his forehead .1 Its gloom, Aud while the torrent pours. And tie dreary out of doors. To msu a utile auiiiight in uis roum ? Thi Proto Little Wren. One fine spring evening a very pretty cock-tailed wren was sitting on a twig. It was his birthday ; he was twelve months oil ; and, feeling every inch a wren, he could not help being proud both of himself and his position in the world. Mie hrst thing that morning, he had had a set-to with his wife on the sub ject of their future nest, which she had meekly suggested, should be in the box-tree, instead of the thorn-bush on which he insisted ; she was afraid that the branches would prick her sides, she said. He had carried the day, but declared that he was so worn out by the discussion that he could not really be gin building that day. As be flew over the grass-plat, much content with his victory, he saw a large worm lazily lumbering out of its hole, and fell down upon it directly ; but, after a smart tussle and a good shaking, it succeeded in getting back into its home. Presently a blue tit hair's-breadth smaller than himself, camo living down past him on a fat caterpillar upon which tne wren had just set his eye. "That s mine !" said he, pouncing angrily upon it, and successfully driving away the tomtit As he sat on his prey, twitter ing boastfully, an old gardener, half kl:l 11 i - ri- uttuu pBeu vj, icisureiy eaimg nis cheese upon his thumb. He hopped angrily after the man's heels, and pur sued him for some distance ; the old gardener, however, did not turn, and walked quietly on. quite unaware of the - . . ' attack of bis ferocious assailant " ell, I've chased away thai dread ful monster 1' said the wren, pantine for breath. "What an ugly beast it is, and when he has all the advantages of two legs bke me why doesn't he learn to hop prettily, even if he can't fly ? And then those two great awkward, flapping things that hang by his aides, which he fills his mouth with how much better it is to pick up one's food neatly with a bill, as I do I" Wnen the evenintr was come he re turned to bis twig, and looked back on his day's worV with much complacency, "I gave my wita a good set-down about I the nest," thougtt he. "I frightened ! that worm well ! At to that most tire-1 some, stupid tit, I lon't think he'll : trouble me soon agau. And then I drove away the great, awkward thing on two legs, that was prying about where our nest is to be- I don't think he'll be back in a hurry t To be sure I am so great and strong anartow- erful that, even if the sky itself shtnj fall down, I should not be afraid !" 1 "-t'l" .".i6- "i"JC.''-' ' ":hat a little girl had brought it in. Bwb. Af th.t tinman! , tliA rrlnam- 1 1 , . . . . . " spoke. At that moment, in the gloam ing, a deaf leaf, which still hung to a beech twig above the wren, fell down upon his head, and, in a perfect agony of fright, he flew away and hid himself. The Bee that wasted Lobster. My aunt was once lame, so that she had to stay in one room all day long, and her dinner was always carried to her. One day a bee flew in the open window and alighted on the pear which she was eat ing. There he stayed till he had eaten enough ; and every day after that he came in at the same hour, and found some fruit ready for him. Once he came earlier than usual; and as the fruit was not cut, he thought he would trysome lobster. Was not that an odd thing for a bee to choose ? He seemed to like it very well, and began to saw off a Uttle piece. This he rolled over, and then, tacking it under his wing, flew with it out of the window, and away over the garden. In a few minutes he came back again, sawed off another piece, twice as large as the first, and again flew away with it Then my aunt called the chil dren to come and Bee her pet, and as soon as they were quiet the bee came back. We all watched him as he busily tugged away at the lobster, this time taking a piece half as large as his body. He was gone about five minutes, then came back for more. When he found the lobster had been taken away, and that some nice peaches and pears were on the table, he was very angry, and flew round and round the table, but would not touch the fruit My aunt laid a nice, juicy piece of pear on the edge of the plate to tempt him ; bnt he became quite mad, and buzzed about the room, bounced against the window and went out He soon came back with another bee, and they seemed very angry because they could have no more lobster. They buzzed around the head of each person in the room, and then went out of the window. After that the pet bee never came again, although the window was left open for him. He could never forgive my aunt for sending away his favorite dish. I have often wondered what Le did with the lobster he carried off. A Bor's Poutexess. "The other day we were riding in a crowded car. At one of the stations an old gentleman entered, aud was looking around him for a seat, when a lad ten or twelve years of age rose up and said, Take my seat sir.' The offer was gladly ac cepted, and the infirm old man sat down. 'Why did you give me your seat ?" he inquired of the boy. 'Because you are aged, and 1 am a boy, was the quick reply. For my part I wanted to take the Uttle fellow and press him to my heart It was respect for age, which is always praiseworthy." Bots. When you see a boy willing to taste strong drink, you may rightly suppose that he will become a drunkard. When you see a boy looking out for himself, and unwilling to share good things with others, it is a sign that he will grow up to be a selfish man. When you see boys rude to each other, you may know that they will become disagreeable men. . V.?? tno "nftUO,r8 omo. on. .... 1 wili always asa. mysell U 1 have done anything good to-day, or have made any one happy. "? The Princess Eleonore zu Schwarzen-' korc Vnnvn In Vienna nnnnlarJv aa Lon,died at Wittingausin in Anstria,on Julv 27. She was a daughter of Prince Lichtenstein, and married Prince Jo hann zu Schwarzenberg in 1830, when only 13. She was celebrated for her beauty, and was pronounced the love liest woman at the coronation of Queen Victoria. At that time her husband was the Austrian minister to the Court of St James. "Va rieties. Levity is the soul of wit Men with winning ways Successful gamblers. The greenest of greens Paris green and those who use it The marriage of the Duke of Edin burgh is to take place next January. Ear-rings and necklaces of English sovereigns are among the new fashions in jewelry. Quite a number of ladies announce themselves as anxious to take in wash ing and ironing. A man who had a scolding wife, being asked what he did for a living, replied that he "kept a hot-house." The new style of Gentlemen's collars is said to be modeled after those worn by "end men" in minstrel troups. Theatrical Iiiddia Why is a sick car-horse bke an unsuccessful play? Because it won't run, and can't draw. The English newspapers assert that the eldest son of Mr. Tennyson, who is still at Oxford, has been gazetted a baronet The Shaker Society of South Union, Ky., has offered to adopt and edncate fifty of the children orphaned by the pestilence in Memphis. Said a man who tumbled out of a third-story window: "Wheu I first fell I was confused ; but when I struck the pavement I knew where I was." Do not think so much of the presence of friends in trouble as the presence of God in trouble, "Fear not" What ia the next word ? "I am with thee ; be not dismayed." 'What is the next sen- ta, iojv I in thy God." The richest consolation you can have is that which I a ua,aawvou lltliu a, II is derived from the presence of the Lord God of the covenant The caution of the New Englander in giving an answer to a direct question was illustrated to me, says a correspon dent, the other day, when I asked an Eastern friend of mine, whose family were not noted for very active habits. "Was not your father's death very sud den ?" Slowly drawing one hand from bis pocket, and pulling down his beard, the interrogated cautiously replied, "Waal, rather sudden, for him." A Springfield gentleman recently de termined to sup with a party of friends against the will of his wife. He was resolved that he would, and she that he should not go. He did not go. His mends missed him; and, just for a lark, invaded his residence, where they found him and his wife sitting in their chairs, Ja8t asleep. He had given her an opiata that he might slip away, and she had given him one that he might not A Detroit business man found a coun terfeit fifty cent scrip among his cur rency the other day, and he put it in his vest and that afternoon gave it to a little girl begging on the streets. When he came back from tea he found the same piece of scrip in the drawer again, Anil nnaat.irtninf liiu .la.lr 1... 1 1 'Night a stick of arum, and conn um forty-nine cents good money. P16 nmber of stars visible to the caked eyi jn the entire circuit of the aTr been naUj estimated at about 6,000. n ordinary opera-glaas will exhibit som that number A rnparati vely small telescope easily show .m ooQ? whilft there are telescopes vjstenoe with which, tiiere is reason to . fewer than 25,000,000 stars sr"'. And yet when all these are see.. ; numbered, the eye will have visiteJTw. a mere speck in the illimitable bounds of space, Kubenstein is a composer of no small pretensions. He has written an orato rio, several symphonies, concertos, and operas, chamber quartets, sontas, and numerous songs. In his music he leans to the ideas of the modern German school ; his instrumentation, like most of his fellow-German composers, is mas terly, and his power of conception is wonderful. If his music be not origi nal, it is hard to pick out a subject and say from where it is borrowed ; his diversity is immense, and his produc tivity enormous. The largest sailing vessel in the world is the ship Three Brothers, which sailed from San Francisco recently with a large cargo of wheat for Europe. She is the old steamer Vanderbilt, which was presented to the Government for the navy, and which, not long ago, the Navy Depart ment sold. As a steamer, the enormous consumption of coal, although it pro duced high speed, made her too costly for mercantile ventures. She was there fore changed by her purchasers into a sailing ship, and when she went out of San Francisco harbor she spread fifteen thousand yards of canvass in her suit of sails. Her main-mast measures ninety nine feet, her main-yard one hundred feet and other measurements are in proportion. Her tonnage is 3,187. A Paris correspondent of one of the London journals writes of a hatter, in the town of Limoges, who died lately at the age of one hundred and five. His name was Alainquetaa, and be was born on the 2 J of July, 17(9. or about a fort night before the first Napoleon. Louis XV. was then on the throne, and the Parliament as now, was sitting at Ver sailles. "One can hardly imagine," says the correspondent, "a person who attained his majority before the Beign 3f Terror bving in our time, having eav aped all the wars of the empire and subsequent convulsions. Yet it is only a few months ago I had the pleasure of breakfasting with a descendant of the great Colbert, who remembered Robes pierre. She informed me, in a half whisper, that he was suspected of being a reactionnaire, and looked cautiously round, as if afraid the ghost of the 'sea green incorruptible' might rise np and protest" Emile Gaborian, within the last eight or nine years, published fifteen long stories, which generally made their first appearance Ln the feuiUeton of some of the popular Taxisiaui papers, and wet subsequently issued in volumes by Dentu. In his eariier writings, Gabo rian avoided many of .the vices of his fellows, and displayed considerable tal ent indeed, it might be called genius for plot and character. His first success was 'L' Affaire Le rouge.' It is the story of a murder, the perpetrator v. wu.u u xKn. ma. of which is traced and brought to pun- i ishment not by that marvellous deteo- ; tire bm wLich we finJ frjently ; in ficton but so rarery in real hie, but j by m ol aociaental discoveries. I The story wns powerfully wrought out nd several English adaptations of the ! plot have been published. Gaboriau's i tJ wm mixture of that of Edgar Allan Poe and Wilkie Collins. He al ways opened with a murder or an at tempted murder, and the business of the book was to trace the criminal. His skill in this way was remarkable ; and he gave occasional touches of character and life which indicated the possession of much power of a higher class than that of melodrama. .1 i
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers