Mi? ; 4 B. F. SCHWEIER, THE CONSTITUTION THB U5I0N AND THS ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. VOL. XXVIII. MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., FEBRUARY 4, 1874. NO. 5. roetiy- Vf is taken Vocation. Cribble (TheopoBpas Plato) lealt la aoal aad coks and "uto . Bat to 'lata, coke ul eosl Sjred sapetlor fals msI. Bat he wcmld aot let Us trvle That saperior aoal degrade, Aad ale aplrtta he'd exalt oa x ladles froai ol4 Iiaak Waltoa. Co ha oft wat oat to aagle Left als wif to tara tha Baagle Aad supply th aelfhboriaa folk With tfa.lr "Ulo, aval aad coke. (Mra. Oribble, by tha way. Bad baaa christeaed, I should say, la tbeee festive, (lortoaa aaaes: Saaaal Aaa Zeaobia Jaaee 1 Xaay a dachaas ta tha laad Mljht have fait aa aaTy b'.aad Toward this siaipia child of Satan For har g orgeoas aoBeaclature.) Vow yoa Bast kaow Zaaobla Orlbbla Woald eonetlnee lovely poeau ecrlbble. Har lines wars But ao ( Iv'a ta tangling As those har aasbaad ased for aafliaf. Aad oft that pastsss aa stable Woald slag, amid tha Bungle's rossble. The ballads that she had compiled Aad eet to Basic weltd aad wild. Moeawhlle her Oribble, la bis boat, Waa watchlag his aatroablad loet, Aad aarstag, ta h aagry dadgeoa. Tee aoach, dace, bleak, breaaa, pike acd gad. geoa 1 fjr Oribble, spite his dearest wish. Had aever -aever caaght a ft.h 1 Aad Mra. 0., her gealas ripe, Bad aever ae'er beea eeea ta type Aad yet Bay hap I caaaot tell He Bight er he stlght eo4 Bat well, Bad be eeeayed to be a bard He Bight have raa the laareale hard! While she, forsaklag lyre aad auagle, Aad takiag ap har hook aad aagle. Might eery likely hare palled oat Suae seeres of barbel, perch aad troal ! Bat thea they didat. If they had Tat why this epeeulatloa audf Life's bat a dream, aad Fate Is qalnical, Aad this Is somewhat meuphy ileal I 31iseellany. Madame In Barry's a.ast Momenta. The execution of the notorious Conn toss Da Barry is described as follows by an eye-witness : "Upon arriving at the Pont an Change I found a very large crowd assembled there. I had no need to ask the reason of the assem blage, for at that moment I heard the most terrible cries, and almost immedi ately aaw come out of the court of the Palace of Justice that fatal cart which Barrere has called the bier of the living. A woman was im that cart, which slowly drew near the spot upon which I was standing. Her figure, her attitude, her gestures, expressed the most frightful despair. Alternately red and deathly pale, she stuggled with the executioner and his two assistants, who could scarcely hold her upon the bench, and ottering those piercing cries which had first arrested me, she turned inces santly from one to the other invoking pity. It was Madame da Barry, being conveyed to execution. Only about forty-two or forty-three years of age, she was still, in spite of the terror which disfigured her features, remark ably beautif uL Clothed wholly in white, like Marie Antoinette, who had preceded her a few weeks previously on the same route, her beautiful black hair formed a contrast similar to that presented by a funeral pall cast over a coffin, 'In the name of heaven,' she cried amidst her tears and sobs, save me ! save me ! I have never done ill to any one ; save me !' The delirious frenzy of this un fortunate woman produced such an im pression among the people that those who came to gloat over ner suaenngs had not the courage to cast at her a word of insult, ivery one around ap peared stupefied, and no cries were heard but hers but hen were so piercing that I believe they would have drowned even those of the mob had they been uttered. During the whole route she never ceased her shrieks for 'Life 1 life I' and to struggle frantically to elude death, which had seized upon her already. Upon arriving at the scaffold it waa necessary to employ force to attach her to the fatal plank, and her last word were 'Mercy ! mercy ! But one moment longer, but one and then all was still. ,v Too Late. Some people are always too late, and therefore accomplish through life noth ing worth naming. Ii they promise to meet you at such an hour, they are never present until thirty minutes after. No mutter how important the business is to either yourself or to him, he is just as tardy. If he takes a passage in the steamboat he arrives just as the boat Las left tUe wharf, and the train has started a few minutes before he arrives. His dinner has been waiting for him so long that the cook is out of patience. This course the character we have de scribed always pursues. He is never in season at a church, at a place of busi ness, at his meals, or in his bed. Per sona of such habits we cannot but de spise. Always speak in season, and be ready at the appointed hour. We would not give a fig for a man who is not punctual to his engagements, and who never makes up his mind to a certain course till the time is lost. Those who hang back, hesitate and tremble who are never at hand for a journey, trad ing, a sweetheart or anything else are poor sloths, and are "ill-calculated to get a living in this stirring world. The First Element of a Home. I never saw a garment too fine for man or maid ; there never was a chair too good for a cobbler or cooper to sit in ; never a house too fine to shelter the human head. These elements about us, the gorgeous sky, the imperial sun. are not too good for the human race. Ele gance fits man. But do we hot value these tools of housekeeping a little more than they are worth, nnd some times mortgage home for the mahogany we can bring into it ? I would rather eat my dinner off the head of a barrel, or dress after the fashion of John the Baptist in the wilderness, or sit on a block all my life, than consume all my self before I get home, and take so much pains with the outside that the inside was as hollow as an empty nut. Beauty is a great thing, but beauty of garments, house and furniture is a very tawdry ornament compared with domes tie love. All the elegance in the world will not make a home, and I would give more for a spoonful of hearty love than for whole shiploads of . furniture, and all the nphorsterers of the world could gather together. Theodore Parker. Fo tatnral ! Fa' ies. KATIILEEW O'XEIL. "Kathleen, is it possible that yon are crying again ? Did I not tell yon that I would discharge yon if I found yon indulging in this foolish whimpering anymore ; Poor Kathleen O'Neil had been il list ing the elegantly furnished drawing room, and she stood before an exquisite little painting of one of the blue, spark ling Irish lakes, set in gold green shores, with a sky beyond like liquid amber siooa wan ner apron to her eyes, and uer ruauv cneeas deluged with tears. "I couldn't help it, ma amshe sobbed, "but it puts me in mind of home." "Home!" scornfully echoed Mrs. Arnott "Tour home ! A shanty in a uog. iiuiii naei v mat you ever saw such a spot as that. "Deed did I, then, ma'am," answered Kathleen, "and many a time. For we uvea beyant them same green shores, when " "There, that will do " said Mrs. Arnott, coldly, "I don't care about any reminiscences." Kathleen did not understand the five syllabled word, but her quick nature comprehended the sarcastic tone. The tears were dried in their fount the scarlet spot glowed in either cheek. "She looks down on me as if I was a dog!" Kathleen thought to herself. "And sure it's the same flesh and blood God has given to us both. How would she like it, I wonder, to be in a strange land, and niver a kind word spoken to her ? O, but if I could see the mother and little Honors, and Teddy that s but a baby yet ; but it's the blue sea rolls between us, and it's all alone I am !" Poor Kathleen ! the sense of desola tion came upon her with sickening power just then as she stood before the picture of the sweet Irish lake, with the wet splashes on her cheek, and Mrs. Arnott 's cold, hard voice sounding in her ears. "It's a great pily to be obliged to do with these wild, untutored Irish. Kathleen was just bringing np the tray, and Mrs. Arnott 's words sounded distinctly in her ears as she paused on the top step to get breath. "Of course, my dear," said Mrs. Tudor Andor, sympathetically, "they're bad, thoroughly bad, the whole lot of them. I'd send them all back to their native country if it lay in my power." "I wish they were all at the bottom of the sea," said Mrs. Arnott, "and then, perhaps, we would have a chance to employ Sweden, or Chinese, or some body that would at least earn their bread. Is that yon Kathleen? Why don't yon bring the ice-water in at once, instead of dawdling there?" Kathleen obeyed, but the dreary, homesick feeling that thrilled through all her pulses can hardly be described. "If I was only at home again," she thought, "where the poorest and the meanest have a kind word for each other 1 They scorn and hate me here ; and sure, I've tried to do my best, but the lady has a heart of stone, and even the little children in the nursery, with their French maid, make fun of Irish Kathleen." And the lonely exile wept herself to sleep on her solitary pillow that night. It was a mere closet of a room, without light or ventilation, that she occupied Mrs. Arnott thought that any place was good enough for Kathleen ; the bed was hard, and insufficiently provided with clothing, but as Mrs. Arnott carelessly observed, it was no donbt a great deal better than she was accustomed to at home. And she had just paid to Isaac son & Co.. a thousand dollars apiece for draping her drawing-room windows with lace and brooatelle so, of course, there waa nothing left for such a trifle as the comfort of her servants. "Is Kathleen sick, mamma?" little Julia Arnott asked one day ; "she cries so much and looks so white 1" Mr. Arnott, a stout-built, good natured man of forty or thereabouts, glanced np from bis paper. "What does the child mean, Lncre tia?" he asked of his wife. "I hope that yon look a little after your girls." "Of course X do, sue saia snarpiy. "Kathleen is a silent, sullen thing, and I shall discharge her next month. Nata lia has a cousin who wants the place." "Has she any friends in the country Kathleen, I mean?" "Not that I know ot" "Seems to me I wouldn't discharge her, then. It would be rather hard, unless she is guilty of some fault" Mrs. Arnott bit her lip. "Gentlemen understand nothing of the management of a household," said she, tartly. "These girls haven't our sensitive natures, either. They are quite nsed to knocking around the world. Are yon going down town now ?" "Yes." "I wish you'd stop and ask Dr. Hart to stop here this morning; little Clarence is feverish." "Anything serious ?" "I hope not," the mother answered, "but I always like to take these things in time." . Dr. Hart leaned over Clarence's little crib ; he involuntarily uttered the name of a malignant type of fever just then raging in the city. "I wish that you had sent for me be fore. I fear that it is too late to secure the exemption of your two other little ones. But with constant care I think we may save the little fellow. Yon have a good nurse ?" "An excellent one. I can trust Natalia as I would trust myself." "Ton are fortunate," said the doctor. He had scarcely closed the door, when Natalia came to her mistress. "My month expires to-morrow, ma dam, will you pay me my wages, and let me take my departure at once ?" "But, Natalia, the baby is sick" "One's first duty is to one's self ; I would not risk the infection for twice what you pay me." And Natalia packed her trunk and departed, without even coming into the nursery to bid little Clarence good-bye. The cook was next to give warning. Matilda, the laundress, took herself off without any such preliminary ceremony. "I am going, too," said the seam stress. "Mrs. Arnott wouldn't have lifted her finger if we'd all been dying, and I believe in doing to others as they do to me." And almost before she knew it, the stricken mother was left alone by the bedside of her suffering babe. Neigh bors crossed on the other side of the street like the priests and Levitea of old; friendscontended themselves by sending in to inquire; even hired nurses avoided the malignant fever. "Is there no one to help me? she moaned, wringing her white jeweled hands together. "Have all pity and womanly sympathy died ont of the world?' , , . A slight noise caused her to turn, and Kathleen O'Neil waa at hex aide, busy in arranging the table. 1 thought yon, too, had gone, Kath leen!" she cried. "Sure, ma'am, what should I be going for?" asked Kathleen, simply; "and the bits of children sick, and yon in sore trouble? I nursed the little brothers and sisters at home, and I know just what needs to be done." And she took little Clarence in her arms with a soft tenderness that went to the mother's heart. "Are you not afraid, Kathleen ?" "What should I be afraid of, ma'am ?" Isn't the God's sky over ns all, whether its the green banks of Ireland, or the church steeple of this great confusing city? Oh, ma'am. He'll not take the bonny baby from us." All Mrs. Arnott ' children had the fever last of all she was prostrated by it and Kathleen watched over every one, faithful, true and tender. "Kathleen," Mrs. Arnott said, the first day she sat np, with the Irish girl arranging the pillows about ber wasted form, "Oh, Kathleen, I don't deserve this." "Sure, ma'am, if we all had our deserts in this world, it's a sorry place it would be, 1 m thinking," laughed Kathleen. "But Kathleen, I was cruel to yon so perfectly heartless 1 "We won't talk of it, ma'am dear,' said Kathleen, evasively. "But ssv just once that yoa forgive me ? pleaded the ladv, once so haughty, "I forgive yon, ma'am, as free as the sunshine." Kathleen answered softly. "And youll stay with me always, and be my friend, Kathleen r "If God willa it ma'am." And Mrs. Arnott put her lips to kiss the fresh, cool cheeks of Irish Kath leen. The rears that have passed since then have made men and women of the little people that Kathleen nursed through the fever : and strangers who visit Mrs. Arnott scarcely know what to make of the plump, comely, middle aged woman who moves about the house apparently as much at home in it as the mistress herself who is always consulted about everything, and trusted with all secrets. "Is she a housekeeper, or a servant, or a relation ?" some one once asked. Mrs. Arnott replied: "She is my true and trusted friend. Kathleen O'XeiL" Tne Honse on the Corner. At the corner of Charles and Aber crombie streets, in onr town, is a small plain house, which I pass every day on my way to the cars. I have often looked at it and wondered if anything could be more commonplace, outside and in ; for of the latter I have had occasional glimpses when the windows were thrown open in the morning for 'airing.' The parlor walls, I saw, were dead white, though elegantly relieved Dy a gut framed certificate of membership of the Missionary Society, the last chromo of the Heathen Fortnightly, a wreath of wax flowers in an oval frame, an ela borately colored photograph or two, and the crimson cords wherewith the aforenamed were severally suspended. The white-boarded, green-blinded ex terior had not a single indication of individuality if yon except the little tin sign nailed under one of the parlor windows proclaiming the profession of the head of the family to be that of an Architect and lluildcr. The fact that never, save in a single instance, have I happened to see any one go in or come out at the front door, and that no member of the family has ever been visible at any of the windows, from garret to cellar, has doubtless given a certain airy freedom to my ima ginations concerning this house's in habitants. But my wildest imaginings never carried a single member of that mysterious family beyond the domain of the commonplace. In my mind I have followed the fancied father to and from his daily work; the probable mother np and down the unseen stair case, intent upon the most primitive domestio drudgery ; the needle of the suppositions grandmother back and forth across the all too possible hole in the stocking ; I have seen the ideal baby tended, and tossed, day in and day out, by the daughter in curl-papers of whose existence I felt well assured, from the fact that I one evening observed the young gentleman clerk of the neighbor ing ribbon store, standing upon the front steps, arrayed in red necktie, green kids, and a twenty-five cent cane, and with that air of embarrassed aston ishment with which one sometimes lis tens to the clamor of a door-bell one's own hand has set going. How could I know that the leaves of the maples that trembled about those second-story windows were listening daily to a story of shame and agony and heart-break; that within those four commonplace walls a tragedy was being enacted, upon the last terrible scene of which the world would soon look with horror ! How could I know that one day people would speak in whispers when they passed beneath those win dows ; that even the little front stoop and the missionary certificate would, ere long, be invested with tragie in terest After all, my lords and ladies, your houses, your husks, your arts, your manners, your dresses and your deduc tions, are nothing and your humanity is -everything. And yet your houses and your dresses and all about yon are much ; because they have to do with the human. And nothing that has to do with the human can be commonplace. Certainly I think I shall never again call any honse commonplace, no matter how ordinary it may appear ; no matter how much bad taste may be evident through the windows open for airings. A great many human beings them selves are just like my little honse on the corner. I've considered them in the same way, God forgive me, and have lived to be astonished and ashamed, thank God 1 Seribner' Magazine. Rossini's Leejisoa to Ollal Vrlnder. The London Echo should have thought that it would be as easy to teach a cow to dance a minuet as to give an organ grinder any idea of time. It appears, however, that the composer Rossini was of a different opinion. It is said that lun Via iveA in the Chanssee d'Antin. he came one day upon a man playing - - m i - V 1 A " V . . .1 "Ul lauu jraipiu uu uurur-giuuj. Tha nsrtnniwr waa astonished to hear a voice from the crowd suddenly exclaim, . m . VT AT A "t aster, taster I ".now iasier i saya ii. n.mn nils Tnrn tha handle t nicker ; it is allegro." "But, sir, I on't know " "Like this ; so so," and xvossim rusnea spun mis urgsu .n1 mnnnil imt tVifl tnnA to the TOODer time. "Thank yon, air," said the man ; "I shall rememDer tne lesson ; ana in fact on the next day he was heard in the same place playing "Di Tanti Pal- Eiti" as he had been taught "Biavo, ravo, bravo I" exclaimed Rossini from - : J A ..1 Mnna a lnnia rl'rtv at m wuiuu.i urn luvtnw. .vww the man's feet The Echo scarcely knows wnetner to aomire moot oou dftnmaion of the eompoaer or the do cility of the grinder. si . aas e i A good deal of the fleece of the Caah- awit hewt im (Via Paiufie alone, is now being brought to the East, and some of it u worm t.zu per ponna. Provision tor Wires and Children. The disasters that have occurred in the business circles of New York during the last few months are full of practical suggestions, upon which the daily press has made abundant comment ; bnt one of them has received but little notice viz., the effect of these disasters upon the families of the sufferers. These, with many dependents, were sharers in the prosperity of those who have gone down to poverty. They lived in fine houses, and had all the privileges which wealth bestowed. Many of these busi ness men had wives, who had been helpers and household economists through all the years of early struggle, and who held a strong moral claim upon a portion of the wealth which they have seen swept away without the power to lift a nnger or say a word in sell-pro tac tion. In a day, they have seen the ac cumulations of years melt away, and themselves and their little ones made poor. The husband and father, with burdens too heavy to be borne in his office or his counting-room, goes to his home to be tortured with the spectacle of a straitened life, among those who are more precious to him than all his wealth had been. It is quite likely that he will find heroism and self-denial and cheerfulness there ; bnt his pain will not be wholly cared by these, and he must always regret that when he had the power to secure a competence to his dependents he did not do it A large majority of the business men of New York carry a heavy life insu rance ; bnt this, at the very moment of the failure of any one of them, is not only no help to him, bnt, by its yearly demands upon his resources, a constant drag upon his efforts and prosperity. It may be, indeed, that he will be una ble to keep up his yearly premiums, and so be obliged to sacrifice all that he has paid during the previous years. Life insurance makes a provision for his death, bnt none at all for a disaster that may destroy his power to provide for his family just as effectually as his removal from the world. His power even to keep his life insured goes with his power to make money, and thus his family is left helpless whether he live or die. All men who deal in stocks, all who are in commercial or mercantile life, and all who are engaged in manufac tures, have much at risk. Wars, revul sions, bad crops, capricious legislation, changes in the channels of trade, over prod notion one or more of these, and other adverse causes, come in at un looked-for seasons, aud prove to them all that they hold their wealth by a very uncertain tenure. There is no man who does business at all who may not be ruined by a combination of circum stances that he can neither foresee nor control. Now, we know of no wsy by which a man can protect his family bnt by taking a competent sum from his busi ness and bestowing it upon them out right, and securing it to them, in the days of-actual wealth and prosperity. A man who, by honest enterprise, has secured wealth, has the right to bestow it where he chooses. When such a man endows a seminary, or establishes a charity of any sort, we praise him. We acknowledge his right to do what he will with his own ; and we ought not only to acknowledge his right to endow his family with the means of support, but insist that it is his duty, to do so, even before he endows his seminary or establishes his charity. There are two objections to this course, one of them coming from the man himself, and the other from the community. The man insists either that he cannot spare the necessary sum from his business, or that he believes he can do better for bis family by risk ing his all ; while the community, trust ing him, reckons among his means that which he seems to own, even when, in fact, it is owned by bis wife, the trans fer never having been publicly known. It is against the man's mistakes that we wish specially to protest He has no moral right to risk his all, when its loss would make his family poor, provided he has more than enough to do a fair, safe business. This is the fatal blunder that nearly all men make. Their busi ness grows, and its requirements grow, with their consent or bv their strenuous efforts. Large, superfluous wealth is their aim, and it is this inexcusable motive which prevents them from doing jnstioe to their dependents. If they would abandon this aim, there would be nothing in the way of a wise and provident policy. The objection on the part of the com munity is, under the present condition of affairs, a sound one; bnt a little legislation would set this aside. If the transfer of money or property to one's wife and family were legally required to be made as public as the gift of a considerable sum to a publio institution is naturally made, there would be no difficulty in the matter. If, when a man endows his wife with property, the aot could only be made legal by the publi cation of the fact nd by a publio state ment of the sum transferred, showing that his available capital bad been re duced by that amount the business community would be protected. We see no valid objection to this. There are many ways in which, for public rea sons, the private affairs of a man are re quired to be made known, and there is nothing in this transaction which should exempt it from publicity. Rascality would avail itself of this privilege, without donbt if it could ; but the pri vilege may be protected by all the safe guards that legislation can throw around it A man may be compelled to prove that he has tne right to dispose of a portion of his estate in the way pro posed, without prejudice to his credi tors or the community. We write with out any knowledge of what the laws are, bnt with a very distinct idea of what they may and ought to be. We are at leant sure that there ought to be some way in which men of wealth may justly, with every obligation to the commu nity fairly considered, protect their wives and little ones in the possession of a portion of their means honestly won ; and we hope that those who are wise and powerful will see to it before new disasters come to plunge other families into ruin, and remind them of a duty too long neglected. Scribner's Magazine, General sympathy was elicited some weeks age in favor of Mr. Basil Wood, the express agent at Franklin, Ky., when the telegraph announced that he had had bis face terribly cut his skull mashed in, and his safe robbed, by par ties unknown. It now appears that poor Wood himself took the money from the safe, and then, to allay suspicion, cut his gums with a knife to produce blood and disfigure his mouth, and then knocked his head against the eorner of a counter in order to prodnoe the "maahsd skull" result Htstorie Lace. Historio lace, that is, lace which has belonged to any celebrated personage. and to which an exact date can be assigned, is of the greatest interest to the student, bnt unfortunately of rare occurrence. Perhaps the oldest speci men known, if tradition is to be be lieved, is a part of a pnest s vestment, preserved under glass in the cathedral of Prague, said to be the work and the gift of Anne of Bohemia, queen of t.--T 3 TT .ST I J Ti ibiuuuu ii. ui xuiguuiu. as is a piece of embroidery, into which cntwork is introduced, and very like, in workman ship, coverlets of many centuries later ; Duiacr-ragne it has always remained carefully treasured as the work of "Good Queen Anne," as the English were wont to style her. Some years since a por tion of the vestment waa taken off and washed, when it fell into holes, and was set aside in the sacristy. From this washed piece, a specimen was procured by a traveler, and is now in the South Kensington Museum. In the Musee des Dentelles, at Le Puy, is preserved gold lace, which goes back to the Yalois Kings of France, to Henry IL and his sons, and in the Musee de Cluny, at Paris, are the wire mounted ruffs of Queen Marie de Medi ois, or flimsy, ill-made geometrio lace, which, if they are to be taken as a spe cimen of the art of that period, are little to boast of. The blood-stained shirt of her oonsort Henry IT., worn when he fell by the knife of the assassin Ravail lae, has passed into the collection of Madame Tnssand. It was among some Sroperty onoe belonging to Cardinal lazarin, and Charles X. is said to have offered twelve hundred dollars for the relic. It is ornamented with cntwork round the collar and breast, probably similar to one which appears in the ac counts of his first wife, Margaret Queen of Navarre, "four breadths of point conppe to make a trimming for the shirt of my love the king, at 18 livres each." Christening-suits are handed down in many old families to which a precise date may be affixed, and we are told that a mantle trimmed with outwork. said to have been nsed in 1301 to cover "the infant Anne Boleyn on the occa sion of her being christened, has been preserved for many genera tiona in a Welsh family, lineal descendants of Sir Thomas Boleyn, father of the ill-fated queen. A vestment enriched with cntwork. worn by Mary, Queen of Scots, at her execntian, is carefully kept as an heir loom at iSuckland, Berks, seat of Sir William Throckmorton, where it is shown to all visitors to the castle. The lace round the neck and sleeves is de scribed to be a "sort of point or needle made lace, besides which there is an insertion down the front and on the shoulders a kind of drawn-work in the linen." The lace-edged vail worn by Queen Mary at her execution, which we see represented in her portrait ia described by a contemporary aa "a dressing of lawn, edged with bone-lace." It was long kept as an heirloom by t!ie exiled Stuarts, until Cardinal York bequeathed it to their faithful adherent Sir John Cox Hippesley. On one occasion, when exhibiting the vail at Baden, Sir John thoughtlessly threw it over the head of the Queen of Bavaria. Her majesty shuddered at the omen, and precipi tately withdrew from the apartment evidently much alarmed at the incident, and could not be persuaded to rejoin the party. In the honse at Stratford npon-Avon where Anne Hathaway, Shakespeare's wife, was born, is to be seen, preserved in an oaken chest, according to the an cient fashion of the country, a pillow case and a large sheet, made of home spun linen. Down the middle of the sheet is an ornamental openwork or cntwork insertion, about an inch and a half deep, and the pillow case is simil arly decorated. They are marked "F. H. ," and have always been nsed on spe cial occasions by the Hathaway family. This insertion, or "seaming lace," as it was called, appears about that period to have been universally used for unit ing the breadths of linen instead of sewing a seam, a custom which still lingers on in many parts of Europe. The wardrobe aocounta of King James I. and his son. Prince Charles, abound in tha employment of "seaming" lace employed for sheets, shirts, and other articles of linen. The shirts worn by King Charles L on the day of his execution, for the weather was cold and he wore two, one over the other, are, we understand, richly seamed and trimmed with lace. One la in the possession of the Earl of Ashbnrnham, the other of Herbert, Esq. Some years since one of these two was exhibited in the Loan Collec tion at South Kensington. There is also much good lace on the waxwork effigies in Westminster Abbey. King William wears a rich lace cravat and ruffles, and his consort, Queen Mary, has a lace tucker and double ruffled sleeves of the finest raised Venetian point King Charles wears the same description of lace as Queen Mary. The Duchess of Buckingham, daughter of James IL, has also fine raised lace ; but the figures having been so often re dressed, it is difficult to assign any historio proof of the lace having be longed to the individuals on whose effigies it is placed. -An Bala" at Tronville. In his "Normandy Picturesque," Henry Blackburn says of the bathing at Tronville : "A book might be written on costume alone on the suits of mot ley, the harlequins, the Mephistopheles, the spiders, the 'grasshopper's green,' and the other eccentric costume de bain culminating in a lady's dress trimmed with death's heads, and a gen tleman's, of an indescribable color, after the pattern of a trail of seaweed. Strange, costly creatures popping in and out of little wooden houses, seated, solitary, on artificial rocks, or pacing np and down within the limits pre scribed by the keeper of the show tell ns something about their habits ; stick some labels in the sand with their Latin i-ames ; tell ns how they manage to feather their nests, whether they ruminate' over their food and we shall have added to onr store of knowledge at the sea-side I It is all admirably managed ('administered' is the word), as everything of the kind is in France. In order to bathe, as the French under stand it, yon must stndy costume ; and to make a good appearance in the water yon must move about with the dexterity and grace required in a ball-room ; you must remember that yoa are present at a bal de mar and that yon are not in a tub. There are water velocipedes, canoes for ladies, and float for the unskilful ; a lounge across the sands and through the 'EUblissement,' before an admiring crowd, in costumes more scanty than those of Neapolitan fish, girls !" Stroag-Hiadecl Women. Yoa must not think, the woman 's rights movement is a new idea. It dates back aa far as the davs of Theseus. when Hypolita, the Queen of the Ama zons, was vanquished by the Grecian hero, who compelled that strong-minded women to marry him. Shakespeare, in the "Midsummer Night's Dream," has made a very charming use of that an cient tradition, as, no doubt, all onr readers well know. Even in the present generation these female warriors exist in the Kingdom of Dahomey; their principal drill con sists in yelling, firing, and then tanning at run speed out oi danger. The ancient Amazons, however, seem to have been of a far superior race of oeings to tne oiaca heroines oi Africa, if we may judge from what Herodotus says oi the Amazons. "These Amazons," says Herodotus (Book iv., 110-117), "the Scythians call Aiorpata ; and this name in the Ureek means man-slayers, for they call a man aior, and pata means to kill." He goes on to tell ns that with a lively, womanly inry, tnese Amazons, being captured by the Greeks and taken away, "aa many as could fill three ships, rose against their captors, when asleep, and cut them all to pieces. But when they had done that, they could not navigate the ships, and were carried at the mercv of the winds to apart of the coast of Scythia. The Scythians, a herd of whose horses they stole, thought they were a set of smaller and more impudent men, and gave the impertinent creatures a beating, till, by their dead bodies, they found that their enemies were women. They then changed their tac tics, and sent ont only the young men to make love to them: and so these cruel man-slayers were subdued. It is a very pretty story. There are two or tnree masterly touches in it that raise it in onr esteem, while, at the same time, they prove the truthfulness of the Father of History. Who that knows men and women would not swear that this was true? Herodotus, who visited the descendants of these Ama zons, is accounting for a corrupted speech. 1. The men were not able to learn the language of the women, but the women soon acquired that of the men. 2. The Sauromatae (their descen dants)use the Scythian language, speak ing it corruptly from the first, since the Amazons never learned it correctly. Ask any of the teachers at the ladies' colleges if that is not the touch of a master. 3. When the women under stood .the men, they (the men) spoke to them as follows: "Ve have parents and possesssions (that' s men all over) ; let us, then, no longer lead this kind of life, but come to our people, and live with them ; and (here they put their arms round the warlike young ladies) we will have you aa our wives, and none other." It is a very pleasant episode.and would make a fine picture. The ladies, how ever, were equal to the occasion. "We could live with you," they said, "but not with yonr womankind. What would they think of us ? We ride, shoot, throw the javelin, kill people and wild beasts : they sit at home, or ride in wagons, and mind household affairs. If yon desire to prove yourselves honest men, go to your parents, claim your property then come back and marry us, and let ns live by ourselves." Herodotus does not tell ns what the Scythian young ladies said as to a whole potte of their bravest snd most mar riageable men being thus carried off. The young men, taking their sweet hearts' advice, went home, claimed their fortunes and goods, and came back to their warlike brides ; but, having got thns far, it was not in the Amazon, or woman nature, not to go further. The next morning, they cried out "Alarm and fear are upon us (poor Amazons !) ; we have deprived you of your parents, them of you. What will they think of ua f But since you consider ns worthy to be your wives, let ns leave this e nntry which we have invaded, and, having crossed the River Tanais, let ns live there." The poor men yielded; and hence, says sly old Herodotus, the descendants speak bad Scythian just as Mrs. Malaprop or Mrs. Partington might speak bad English, never having caught the by-words cleverly adding, a Sauromatian virgin may, not marry until she has killed an enemy. "Some of them, therefore, die of old age. with out being married, not being able to satisfy the law. Economy 1 Wealth. It is a very common remark that one who has money can make more money ; but that does not always follow, for it depends upon the individual. However, almost everybody can save money, and even a small sum will produce gains by putting it where it will accumulate, after some years, to an amount that may be invested to some purpose. In this wsy a good deal of suffering and poverty that now exists would be avoided, if habits of economy could take the place of some other habits that a large class of humanity are prone to. Though they are diligent in their daily labor, some men never pnt anything aside for a rainy day. I am aware it requires often a good deal of self-denial to carry such an object into effect bnt if people would consider to what a small sum saved daily will amount in twenty-five years, placed at interest at six per cent in banks, where, as a general thing, it is figured semi-annually, they would be surprised at its results. In this way they could be replenishing their own coffers to the diminishing of many others, that would be a double benefit to the community at large. In the fol lowing figures are the results of small sums saved for a period of years. Let young and old begin, and the day will come when yon will be thankful you tried the experiment The table of principal and interest on sums saved daily, with interests compounded semi annually, would be as follows: IS Teara. Veers. M Tears. 3eenta...... SM.1 93U,t Sl.4,iai cents lio. le cents ttiM l.Tsi.ti ..ue Iterate...... Cai.Ta M47J1 10l - SO cents Ml. 04 M30.M K.iwusl 3 cents lSlK 4,40, IS xa,MAa) Let the experiment be practically tested. Workingman. "There was present at the tea-party," says a Philadelphia paper, "a Mrs. Finch, who is a daughter of Mr. Bush rod Washington, who was a nephew of General George Washington. Mrs. Finch is about forty years of age, and is the nearest living relative to onr first President with the exception of an aunt The first-named lady brought with her a quilt made from the various dresses worn by Mrs. Martha Washington da ring the receptions at the Executive Mansion during the term of office of her husband, she also brought with her, and placed on exhibition at the Connecticut table' a pair of eye-glasses and a snuff-box once belonging to Presi dent Washington." Youths Column, Tag Dark Darnstorest. Six hun dred Tears before the birth of onr Lord and Savior, there lived in England a queen by the name of Garhceven. She hated the king of Denmark, and de termined to inundate his dominions. At those times England and France were united by a strip of land seven miles long, with a high ridge of moun tains, called by an old Uermau. word. "Hoeveden." And it took seve hun dred men seven years to dig through tne "iioeveden. Where, on tne wes tern coast of Sleswic, now is the Risum moor. there waa then a mishtv forest called the "Dark Darnsforest' Great wild bears and wolves had their dens in it ; and if any one went into its depths he never retained, for the wild beasts had torn him to pieces. Mow, there was a little boy, who lived with his mother in a miserable hut close to the Dark Darnsforest The mother said. "Pick me this little mug full of ber ries, then I will cook a soup for dinner, and put honey in it too." And the little boy ran into the forest ; for he thought there surely he would find plenty of berries. He had never been here before, and did not know who lived in the forest Up in the twigs of the dark firs sat the 'little birds, and sang of the grand trees, and the little flowers, and of the white eggs in their nests. . When they saw the boy their voices sounded mournfully, and they sang, "Go back ! go back I Here live bear and wolf I Xou have no wings to fly away, no nest high np in the branches to hide yourself !" But the little boy did not understand them. He only said, "Oh, I can sing like a bird !" And then he sang loudly, and went farther into the forest On the ground, on the withered leaves, lay a little spotted snake, with a small golden crown on her head ; and as the boy went by. she said. "Return home ! return home ! In this forest no human being can live." The boy was delighted to see the snake, with her beautiful little crown ; but her language he did not understand, and so he went on singing merrily. And the bright little bugs that flew around him, the twigs that grazed his garments. and the flowers in the moss, with their nodding heads, all cried to him, "Flee, flee ! here lives the wolf ; here lives the bear I" The boy had now gone far. and not found any berries yet His singing he had stopped long ago. He was hungry and frightened, ihe farther he went the darker the forest and the rougher and colder the air grew. And there wolf and bear lived. There they came running, clothed in their thick furs, with eyes like coals, and long red tongues. The boy screamed, and his mug fell, and fear made him unable to move a step. Suddenly it became dark around him darker than at midnight the roaring of the wild beasts ceased, and the boy aaw nothing more. The trees crashed so strangely, and the air grew dull and heavy, as in a deep cellar. then the child closed his eyees. and sleep came and took him into his arms. When the Hoeveden had been cut through, terrible floods submerged the western coast of Denmark, and from Iceland came swimming a great moor (Risummoor), and covered the dark Darnsforest Many hundred years had passed since. On Risummoor lived people in villages ; but they knew not that a forest was buried under them. One day a man dug peat in the moor, and when he came to a considerable depth, he found trees with mouldering branches ; and deeper yet he found big bones of wild beasts. And the people, when they heard of it became excited, and talked only about the strange news ; and hoped they might find gold and silver, too. So three men began to dig Li the moor, and when they had come so deep as sixteen feet, they saw glimmering something white through the black branches of a fir tree. And they saw that the branches had twisted themselves into a basket, and in it lay untouched by the black moor a child as delicate as wax, in strange looking clothes, and beside him a little broken mug. His eyes were closed, and no breadth heaved hid bosom. The men carried him to the light, and as the sunbeams fell upon him his heart began to beat again, and his breath returned. He opened his eyes and looked around him astonished, and finally he began to speak. Hat nobody understood nis language, for it had become extinct long ago. The little boy looked on the land, now so level ; at the houses standing on their wharves ; at the high church steeples rising np agaist the sky : and far off he aaw the water of the ocean glittering in the sunlight All this was strange to him, and he cried and wailed loudly, but no one understood his sorrow. They sent for a wise woman by the name of Hertje, and she told them they must carry the child to "Allmensdoor (AUemannsthuer, an old name for church door)' and there God would give them a sign how to act Now a number of old women made a great cry, and said the church-yard would be profaned by bringing a heathen child thither, and the people ought to born him to death. But lo I suddenly two other children, in white robes, with wings on their shoulders, and a shining mm bus around their head, appeared. and they said, We will take him up to heaven, where his home is." And so they flew awsy, carrying the strange child with them ; and no human eye ever saw him again. Word Square. An animal living in water. An island. To shut violently. A plant Answer: F 1 s h Isle Slam Hemp. Penalty of Gallantry. A story is told of a prominent politi cian which now for the first time finds its way into type. Some years ago this gentleman and Senator M were in New York, and about to embark to Al bany on the Drew. An old German emigrant woman, loaded down with baggage, happened to reach the gang plank at the same time. The noise and confusion of the scene as the boat was about to start bewildered her. Onr political friend, a gallant man, taking in the state of affairs at a glance, imme diately relieved her of the load and re quested Senator M to give her his arm. The upper deck was crowded with people, many whom recognized the gentleman in question. Mr. P then marched them the whole length of the boat gracefully waiving his hand, and exclaiming: "Clear the way! Make room for the bridal party !" Harper' Magazine. "Via riot ies. There is no public school in Raleigh, N. C. A Chester county man boasts of a rat 23 years old. Automatic tt'Iegmth machines sre being introduced. The Spanish Republic is believed to be firmly established. The oldest tombstone in Trinity church-yard, Neir York, is dated 1681. The New York churches are said to have a total seating capacity for 308,500. What is the champion conundrum ? Life because every body has to give it up. The death is announced in England of Mason Jones, a well known political orator. Young ladies use powder, perhaps, because they think it will make them go off. The river Amazon if said to be 1500 feet wide at a distance of 2800 miles from its mouth. David Clark, a wealthy citizen of Hartford, Conn., furnished Christmas dinners to 120 poor families. A young ladv in Somerset County. M.I., fell head over heels down-stairs the other day a somerset in short If yoa want your neighbors to "know about you," give a party and dou't in vite the folks who live next door. Dr. Livingstone thinks he will come home if he lives long enough. His stay ing away is anything but becoming. Bishop Heber wrote the popular hymn. ".Trom Greenland's Icy Moun tains, in aoout an hour, and gave it to the printer with only one correction. William Doctor, a colored man. was run over and instantly killed by the southern bound freight train on the Eastern Shore Railroad, near Crisfield, Md. A negro, after gazing at some Chinese shook his head, and solemnly said. "If de white folks be so dark as dat out dar. I wonder what s de color ob de black folks !" Wendell Phillips's "Glances Abroad" are of such a character as to suggest the propriety and wisdom of his Look ing at Home for some time, if not longer. Professor Proctor, the eminent astro nomer, insists that life exists on some of the planets. In Mars, he says, every leatnre with which the earth is endowed may be discovered. The provident hen not only gets a good living for herself, but saves for her future family. She deposits eggs, and thus literally lays np something for her children. s ... : t i - a. bbkh;iuu iiuauu vrsoii lias inven ted a lire-alarm which goes on at an alarming rate when the temperature rises five degrees. Nice to break in uvu Duma uiiusummer nigui a tin am. A New Hampshire farmer's wife fc-U into a well, and it was four days before he missed hrr and made a search. He said he thought the house unusually quiet, but he didn't know what made it so. Those who intend committing suicide by accidental drowning would do well to see that there is water enough in the cistern before falling in. One may take a death cold from a ducking at this in clement season. The Masaachuxrtt Flottrihman says the quantity of milk daily brought to liostoa by railroad is about l.aoo.000 qnarts. Of course very large quantities are brought direct from forms in the vicinity of the city. Out on the plains, recently, a party of hunters chased a large herd of buffa loes to the verge of a precipice, over which some sixty or seventy of the frightened beasts plunged and were killed by the fall, the precipice being about seventy-nve feet high. Sesselin, well known in Paris by the sobriquet of the "Emperor," is dead. Sesselin was a coachman, and gained his imperial title from the fact that he bore a most striking resemblance to Napoleon L He was very proud of this coincidence, and was careful to cut his hair like the great Emperor.and to wear a grey overcoat "Make way ! make way, good people! I'm exceedingly cramped for space 1" This was the exclamation of a poor worm, that had a whole field to himself, and acres to spare ; but he wished the impression to go abroad that he was ten times as large as he seemed to be. There are many people in this world who act just like this poor worm. Yon must elect your work. Yon shall take what brains you can, and drop all the rest Only so can that amount of vital force accumulate which can make the step from knowing to doing. No matter how much faculty of idle-seeing a man has, the step from knowing to doing is rarely taken. It is a step out of a chalk circle of imbecility into fruit fulness, Emerson. A company in Paris hss built a street for workmen which combines the work shops and the homes of the workers. It contains nineteen large bouses, to each of which motive power is supplied to the lower floors, and, if necessary, throughout the buildings by means of a steam engine of two hundred horse power. The principal business carried on in the street is that of chair-making, and the workman rents from the com pany his dwelling, workshop and the motive power for his machinery, thus reducing the capital required for com mencing a business requiring a mode rate amount of steam power. A New York paper says: "If women would not cry so mnch at theatres their presence would be infinitely more de sirable." This is nonsense. Above all things we like to see a play which To pensive drope the radiant eye beanllea. Tot beeutj's tears are lovelier Lhm ber smiles. We adore a woman who spends at least half her time on the cry, and if we could have found a rich and beautiful young Niobe forty years ago, or at any subse quent period, we would have been a married man to-day, and the father of a large family. I saw a tear ra CeMs's eye, Aad kissed tiie pearly drup away. and would like to do so again. The work of the photographic chem ist does not consist alone in the pro duction of pictures artistically true in tone through the medium of chemicals, for photography has become of late the handmaid, of the higher sciences, and the results of nearly every discovery in photographic chemistry have been util ized in some practical way for the bene fit of mankind. Photography has a still greater value as a cultivator of art tastes, for it puts in the hands of the poorer classes exact representations of beautiful scenery, or exact copies of fine works of art, instead of the vulgar prints and coarse daubs that were com mon twenty years ago. Such an art is deserving of recognition in the exhibi tion of a nation where it has obtained possibly its greatest development I i a t 'A 4 " f i .ii ' j I ' s U1 a
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers