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