Juniata sentinel and Republican. (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, December 03, 1873, Image 1

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Editor and Proprietor.
NO. 49.
SliiiirS :jyHfi& ill
. - 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.
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
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.
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
"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
"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
"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
"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
"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
"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
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
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
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
"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
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
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
'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
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
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-
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
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.