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B. F. SCHWEIER, THE CONSTITUTION THE UNION ASD THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXVIII. MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PEXNA., APRIL 1. 1S74. NO. 13.
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1
I'oetry.
By avad By.
Whit will it mutter ay aid by
Whether my path btl.w was brlj ht.
Wittier It wound through dark or light,
ruder m fray tit g o'dea uay,
Wka I Ijok but oa It, by aad by
What will It matter by aad by
Whether, uaaslped, I tailed alone,
Daublof my foot araloet a stuaa,
Miwiag the cliarg of the aagel alg-h,
Biildiag me think of the by and by f
Wbat will It matter by aad by
Whrther with laughtaf Joy I weat
Dowe through the yean with a (lad coatent
Keeer belteviag, aay, aot Ia
Teara would be tweeter by aad byT
What will It K utter by aad by
Whether with cheek to cheek I're la a
Close by the pallid angel. Pule,
SMthine- myae:f through eob aad atgb ;
"ail will be eleewlM by aad by.
What will It matter? Xanght, If I
Only am .are the way I've trod,
Cioomy or gladdeaed, lead, to God,
Questioning not of the bow, the why.
If I but reach Him, by aad by.
What will I care for the uu.bared ilgh.
If, ia my fear of .Hp and fall,
Cloaely I've clang to Christ through all
Miudless how rough the path might lie,
Since be will smooth It by aad byf
Ah ! It will matter by aad by
JCothtag bat this : That Joy or Feia
Lifted me skyward, helped to fa ft.
Whether through rack, or smile, or sign,
Heueea home all in all, by aad by 1
31 !" 11 im.y.
Sir Samuel Baker In tent rati Africa.
When Sir Samuel Baker's expedition
reached Gondokoro, on the White Nile,
he opened out to the chiefs the objects
that had brought him to their country,
viz.. the suppression of the slave trade,
and the establishment of commercial
relations between their people and the
rest of the world. To one chief lie
"preached almost a sermon" upon the
evils of the slave trade, and the chief
appeared to be profoundly affected by
the discourse; liis emotion, however,
was but transient, for at the end of the
sermon he ottered to sell his son for a
spade, which, in tiie dearth of iron in
that country, is an article of considera
ble value. This story Sir Samuel
Baker gives an instance of the people's
obtuse uess; the best proof of friend
ship is n their estimation, that you
should help them to kidnap the women
and children of some other tribe.
At Masindi r?ir Samuel found alnrat
eight thousand men, anion? whom
could not le seen a single woman. This
was regarded as a bad sign, for when
ever you saw plenty of women among
the natives you were pretty sure of
peace; the absence of women was a
sure sign of liostilitv. Accordingly the
king, a very bad fellow, behaved most
treacherously, killing some men who
ha 1 been sent back to Fattiko, and
se idinjr into the "amp jars of a sort of
native cider, which was poisoned. The
result was that forty of the troops were
lying on the ground at one time, suffer
ing acutely. The next morning the
expeditionary force was attacked by
seven or eight thousand negroes.
Baker's men four hundred Egyptian
troops being well drilled, protected
the camp effectually, and the fifty
Snider rides with which they were
armed saved the expedition. With
their rockets also they set tire to and
destroyed the whole town. Uufortu
nately'the king escaped. This young
man "had distinguished himself by
murdering his family, under these cir
cumstances: When a king dies, his
lody is placed in a sort of huge grid
iron, and then is toasted by a tire kin
dled beneath. The ImhIv then lies in
state tin buried, and is the signal for
civil discord. The sons light until one
of them is victorious, and he sticks his
spear into the body of his parent as a
svmbol of victor'. Then the funeral
rites take place, corresponding with
those recorded of the ancient Scythians.
A large pit is dug in which some of
the deceased king's wives are put, and
the corpse is lowered down till it rests
on its knees. Then there is a raid on
some neighboring villages, and the peo
ple' captured are brought to the brink
of the pit, where their arms and legs
are broken.aud in this mutilated condi
tion they are thrown down to the
corpse beneath. Then the earth is piled
upon them, the people stamp it down
upon this mass of writhing humanity,
and the horrid rites are complete,
feuch had been the ceremony observed
at Masiudi, and the son who had suc
ceeded to the throne then invited his
relations to dinner and caused them all
to be massacred.
On their arrival in the territory of
Rionga IJaker Pasha "exchanged
blood"' with the chief a process which
consists in drawing blood from the
arm of each of the contracting parties,
who takes a drop of his friend's blood
on his tongue. This ceremony not
onlv gives you an ally, but renders
him faithful unto death; you belong
thenceforth to his family.
The Last Words ef the Dying;.
The last words of the dying are
cagcrlv sought alter, and enshrined in
memory's bosom, by loved ones. The
hero, standing ujKn the field of battle,
amid the booming of caunou and the
rattle of musketry, is stricken down,
and, tlving, he utters some sentiment,
which tells the living he fought
bravely, and died loving his country.
His words, thus uttered, are chanted in
his praise, pass immediately into his
tory, aud are preserved to be handed
down from generation to generation.
The mother, liending over the couch
of her dviug child, eagerly listens for
its last words. As the heart's pulsa
tions grow feeble, the respirations
lecome more lalorious, she silently
listens. Now the pale lips are parted,
and she draws nearer, until her ear
comes in contact with the cold breath,
when she catches the last faint murmur
of the dying one. Oh, how she treas
ures in her pure heart that last "Good
bye," that last token of going home to
heaven!
The husband, through weary days
and nights, has been watshing at the
bedside of his darling wife, until, now,
the dread moment approaches when 6he
shall be wafted Iteyond the river of
death. Under no pretence will he now
leave her, and why f Ah! he is waiting,
and listening, for "the last whisper. As
she speaks her words echo and re-echo
through the chamber of his soul, and
remain there throughout the mystic
future.
As a young lady reads over the list
of the slain in battle, and her weeping
eves rest upon the name of her lover,
almost her first though t is, "Did he leave
me a dying message f
. The "sweet sister of a shipwrecked
brother impatiently awaits the arrival
of 6ome one rescued from the wreck, to
learn if her brother, as he was swept
beneath the dark waves, sent her a dy
ing word.
Yes, dving words are those most
sought after and cherished by the hu
man heart. Amid all the cares and
dLsapno in tents tJtat may surround us
in hie, we never can forget the last
faint whisperings of the dying.
One of the most curious of natural
S reductions is said to be woman who
i not carious.
THE IROX JIOXK.
Drip, drip, drip, the rain is plashing
into the tiny lakes and rivers in the
sodden gardenbeds. Through the open
window comes the faint, sweet smell of
the damp earth that moist, spring-like
odor, which nothing else resembles. A
soft twittering comes from under the
leaves, where the happy little feathered
lovers who yesterday were flying about
in the sunshine, building their wee
house have taken shelter. Under my
window a great black snail is leisurely
promenading. In the kitchen Jean is
whistling (all out of tone) some popular
air. Lisette has been Bcolding him.
Good stupid Jean stares at her, says
nothing and goes on whistling. These
good people love one another; bnt
Lisette is quick, eager, self-reliant
Jean is slow and plodding. "He has
no thought, " she says sharply, in her
quick, brisk utterance. Jean smiles
doubtfully, and goes off to his work. I
speak of his goodness, his kind heart,
and Lisettd's black eyes filled with
tears.
Yesterday, I found two slender sprays
of the fragrant lily of the valley the
wood will be full of them soon. They
sway about in the soft air, their tiny
waxen cups filled to the very brim with
sweetness. My grandmother dreamed
of them the day she died, waking sud
denly, with an exclamation of delight.
"What is it?" I asked. "Ah! mon
enfant," she answered, with a sigh, "I
was gathering lilies at the old chateau."
The last disappointment in life of
sorrow ! Do her hands gather their
sweet blossoms in the gardens to which
she has now gone? I hope so, in
deed. 1 am not so yonng an I was, and this
quiet life suits me. When the heart is
content, it needs little to give ns plea
sure. It is happiness to bresthe the
sweet air, and listen to the soft patter
of the rain. IIow steadily the drops
full on the gravel, and with what petu
lant laughter they splash out upon the
stones. What a day to be lazy in 1
Jean can not possibly ask me to-day.
If Lisette will but let me alone she
looks with an evil eye on those long
quiet hours of dreaming. Ah, me 1 my
fate is coming ; I know it in the firm
decided sound of the advancing foot
steps. "Will Mademoiselle please enter the
salon ?"
Once there, I listen patiently to her
exclamations of horror over the dust,
and the filmy webs with which genera
tions of spiders have bestowed the old
pictures. At last, I am brought to con
less that Jean is idle to-dav, and 1 con
sent to his dusting the dirty faces of
my ancestors, if it so pleases him. It
does not please him bnt it pleases
Lisette, and I am released. L'sette is
happy. A ladder is brought brashes,
clothes. I retreat in dismay, carrying
with me the remembrance of a face
which, it seemed to my fancy, looked
reproachfully down upon me. A man
in the prime of life, with bold, haughty
features, an eagle eye, and a firm, proud
mouth. He is in full armor, over which
hangs a monk's robe, and in his mailed
hand he holds a crucifix, grasping it
like a sword. The "Iron Monk" he is
called. The face haunts me ; fiery pas
sionate, it accords ill with the humility
of the monk's habit. "What a history
that man has 1" I say to myself. My
eye falls upon the little leather box, my
grandmother's words recur to me ; "In
it yon will find the life secrets of many
of your race." Why not that of the
Iron Monk I open it eagerly. Under
many others, I find a paper in my grand
mother's writing ; the ink is faded, but
I read the title, and joyfully draw forth
my prize. The rain is still falling gently.
I settle myself back in my chair and
begin
TOT LEGEXD OF TOT EBON MONK.
There are many legends concerning
the Iron Monk in which truth and error
are so mingled that it is almost impos
sible to separate the real from the false;
but this I have tried to do, thinking
that some one besides myself may
wonder over the strange story of this
unfortunate man, so deeply sinned
against.
Once I do not know the year there
were twin brothers born at the chateau.
Their father, proud and fiery, was slain
in some fierce quarrel within a month
after their birth. His gentle wife soon
followed her lord, leaving her children
to t he guardianship of a distant relative,
then in Paris. Ten years passed. He
brought his motherless daughter to the
chateau ; after that he seldom left it.
Crafty, subtile, he soon saw that with
the bold Victor his influence was little.
The young lord knew his power, and
was jealous of interference. His proud
lips would curl with a contempt nous
smile while listening to the commands
of his cousin, not one of which he ever
obeyed. From the first they hated and
mistrusted each other. Meanwhile,
over the gentle Louis the guardian's
power increased day by day. With
passionate sorrow, Victor saw his
brother drawn farther and farther away
from him. Weafc, easily flattered,
Louis soon yielded himself heart and
soul to his wily kinsman. And Victor
too proud to "complain, yet suffering
intensely lavished his warm love on
the littie Antoinette. Four years older
than she, he was the protector as well
as the playmate ; brother changed to
lover and life smiled once more on the
yenng Victor.
The cross was raised, and the earth
shook with the tread of armed men ;
bugles were ringing, pennons flying,
and from every hill and valley came the
shout, "For the cross ! For the cross !"
With the blood of his race leapiDg hotly
in bis veins, Victor prepared to join his
countrymen. He was of sge, none
sought to stsy him, and it was in the
soft eyes of Antoinette alone that he
saw grief at parting. Proudly, coldly,
he bade adien to the home of his fath
ers. With a firm step he crossed the
court His brother started forward as
if to throw himself into his arms, but a
hand detained him ; a few whispered
words and he stood motionless. Vic
tor's hand was on his horse's bridle, his
troop wss waiting, when a light step
sounded behind him, and Antoinette
flung herself sobbing on his heart A
dark scowl settled on the face of Louis,
Tenderly Victor soothed her, as with
hands she fastened a rich
scarf about him, on which she had em
broidered the word, "loujours.
"Ah ! Mignon," be said, sadly, "will
yon love me always ?"
"Always, Victor."
Twelve years passed. One day in
summer, in the twilight, a tired horse
slowly climbed the hill overlooking the
chateau. His rider, knight with his
visor down, looked esgerly from side to
side. Lights were beginning to glim
mer among the trees. A workman
passed him singing.
"Tell me, good friend, who lives
yonder," said the knight, pointing to
the gray walls beneath him.
"Oar good lord and lady," answered
the man, gazing curiously at the tired
horse aad his armed rider.
The knight started. "Who it tout
lord ?" he asked, huskily.
"Count Louis," said the man, won
deringly. "He had a brother r
"O, the brother, God rest his soul,
was killed in battle ; though some say,
added he, mysteriously ; "the devil flew
awsy with him.
The stranger laughed harshly. Throw
ing the man some gold, he set spurs to
his horse, and galloped down the hill.
That night the monks in the neighbor
ing monsstry were roused by a loud
knocking at the gate. A strange voice
dem nded speech with their Abbot
Bolts were drawn, bars unbarred. A
tired krone was stabled beside the
Abbot's well-fed palfrey and a strange
guest at the Abbot's table. Midnight
had tolled long since, and still the
Abbot and his guest sat talking, in low,
earnest tones.
"And now, good father, for your
story," said the knight, lifting his flagon
of wine to his lips.
"If it would be your pleasure, my
lord," and the Abbot hesitated.
"It is my pleasure," was the authori
tative answer, and shading his face with
his mailed hand, he signed to the Abbot
to begin.
With a nervous tremor in his voice,
the churchman obeyed.
"Four years after yon had left ns, my
lord, there was a private marriage at
the chateau. How it came about, I
know not, bnt so it was. Ton were
gone, and the Lady Antoinette's memory
was short Tidings of you came but
seldom. Occasionally some wandering
minstrels sung of daring deeds.
" 'He will be killed, one day,' said
your kinsman.
"A twelvemonth afterward messen
ger arrived. He bore tidings of your
death. Count Louis commanded masses
to be said for yonr soul, and took pos
session of your lands.
"One evening, a lady, thickly veiled,
sought speech with me. She placed a
packet in my hands. 'By the love you
bear Count Victor, send this to him.'
Her voice trembled with emotion.
" 'Lady,' I said, gravely, 'does your
husband sanction this ?"
"She shuddered violently."
"You will keep my secret ? Yon loved
Count Victor you are his kinsman
for the love of God pray him to return.'
"I sent the packet by the hand of a
wandering friar."
"It never reached me," said the
knight hoarsely.
"I guessed as much. Your consin
died, died as he had lived," and the
Abbot crossed himself. The fearful
and appalled Count Louis, as he is
called," and he looked deprecatingly at
his companion.
"Call him so," said the knight with a
bitter smile.
He is haunted by the fear of your re
turn. He has grown old before bis
time. Three children have been born
to him ; two are dead. Life is a harden,
and death is feared.
The knight sighed heavily.
"Are yon fatigued, my lord," said
the Abbot kindly; remove that cum
brous armor."
"Good father, "interrupted the knight
"I made a vow to doff it not until I
enter my father's halls. We shall not
part company for many a long day, me
thinks." The Abbot started. "But, my lord,
bethink you "
"I have bethought me," and he rose
as if to end the conference. "I have
bethought me. The man yonder" and
be shook his clenched hand toward the
chateau, whose walla rose faint and dim
in the gray of the morning, "is not kith
nor kin of mine, but I can not bring
disgrace upon my father's name."
Nothing more was beard of Count
Victor; but one day the Lady An
toinette found upon her table a blood
stained scarf, on which she traced the
word, "Tonjours."
When the leaves began to fall, "a new
brother" was admitted to the Order of
St Benedict
The villagers around the chateau
whispered together, as the Iron Monk
strode past their doors, his stern face
shaded by his cowl. And as ever and
anon they caught the glimmer of steel
beneath his flowing robe, the more fear
ful they crossed themselves devoutly.
None questioned him. "I have made a
vow," tie said, simply, when any one
marveled at this strange attire. Fear
ful tales were told of crimes committed
in the Holy Land. When they reached
his ears he smiled scornfully.
One day, pacing slowly np the dusty
village street be saw a gay cavalcade
issue from the gates of the chateau.
Drawing his cowl further over his face,
he paused to let it pass. The eyes of
Count Louis turned curiously upon
him ; he, too, had heard of the Iron
Monk.
"I pray your blessing, good Father,"
he said, with a courteous smile.
"Benedicite," muttered the monk,
hoarsely; and the Count's cheek
blanched as those fieroe eyes burned
upon his face. Had he looked back, he
would have seen a steel-gloved hand
clinched threateningly.
One day came the tidings that the
lord of the chateau was dying. His
confessor was absent "I will go," said
the Iron Monk.
The Abbot started, but said nothing.
Drawing his cowl over his face, the
monk followed the messenger. Enter
ing the room of the dying man, he
closed the door. What passed between
them, none knew. As he again crossed
the threshold, the Lady Antoinette
placed herself before him. He threw
back his cowl.
"Victor!"
He passed on ; but she flung herself
on her knees, and grasped his robe.
"Victor, pardon I"
"Woman, pray to God!" was the
stern answer.
She signed te an attendant, who
placed her baby in her arms.
"Victor, do not corse my child," she
said, pleadingly.
His face softened. Taking the infant
in his strong arms, be gazed long on
the tiny features. The baby opened its
blue eyes and smiled. Signing the
cross upon its forehead, he pressed bis
lips to the sacred symbol, then gave
back the infant to its kneeling mother.
That night the death-bell tolled for
Connt Louis.
The Iron Monk was absent from the
midnight prayers. In the morning he
was found kneeling by the narrow case
ment bis face turned toward the cha
teau, where, dead alike to praise and
blame, with elay-oold lips and fast shut
eyes, his brother was lying. Death, the
great peace maker, had united the
brothers again. Together they had
entered the world, together they had
left it, and the fair-haired baby in his
mother's arms was heir to the broad
lands.
The celebrated enamel artist who has
retired with fortune of half a million
dollars, was addicted to coating to some
purpose.
The French Valleys.
A French Protestant, who.on account
of his religion, served ten years in the
galleys at Dunkirk, and was finally re
leased at the instance of Queen Anne
of England, wrote an account of his
servitude (1700 to 1710), and of galley
slavery in general. From this old
volume we learned that an ordinary
galley was almut one hundred and fifty
feet long and forty feet wide. She was
provided with masts and sails and
fifty rowers' benches, twenty-five on
each side, and was armed with five
cannons, all of which were placed in the
forward part of the galley. The oars
were fifty feet long, thirty-seven feet
without and thirteen feet within the
galley. Between the benches there
was a passage-way three feet wide.
The handling of oars was very hard
work. Each rower stood with one foot
on his own Itench and the other on
the bench before him, then he reached
as far forward as possible, raising his
oar and dipping it in the water, then
he leaned back, with his foot braced,
until he came down on his own bench.
If these movements were not made
with regularity, the rowers were in
danger of hitting their hands on the
oars before them.
The narrator says that this lalor was
sometimes exacted for twenty-four
hours, which, however, seems too much
for human endurance. At some times,
he says, a piece of bread soaked in
wine was, at intervals, put into their
mouths. If one of the rowers gave out,
he was beaten as long ns there were
any signs of life iu him, and then,
without further ceremony, he was
thrown overboard. Their daily fare
consisted of bread and beans; their
dress, of a shirt, breeches, red stockings
and cap, and a blouse, all of the
coarsest material. So long as the galley
was under way no one was allowed to
sleep; if she lay at anchor or in a harbor
the rowers crouched down between
their benches and slept. In winter,
wheu iiie galley was dismantled, their
only bed was a board. At this season
oj the year, they were variously em
ployed, and never allowed to be idle.
If any one of note visited the galleys,
the convicts were put through a series
of maneuvers as humiliating as they
were ridiculous.
At the first sound of the whistle a
whistle was used in commanding them
as the trumpet is in commanding dra
goons they all laid aside their caps, at
the second their blouses, at the third
their shirts, when they were ready for
the farce to begin. At a given signal
they now lie down between their
Itenches so that no one could lie seen;
then, at given signals, they showed,
first, a finger above the benches, then
an arm, then the head, and so on, until
they stood each in his place, when they
were put through a variety of maneu
vers, tatter calculated to disgust than
to amuse the spectator.
The punishment usually inflicted was
the bastinado. The unfortunate, after
being stripped to the waist, was made
to lie flat down,wliile two galley slaves
held his hands and two his feet and an
other laid on the blows. The latter
was also stripped; and behind him
stood the captain also with a bastinado
in his hand, which he used on the back
of the executioner if he showed any
disposition to spare the criminal. After
the tenth or twelfth blow the culprit
was almost -always speechless aud
motionless, still the punishment was
continued. From twenty to thirty
blows was the usual sentence for tri
fling offenses. The maximum number
was one hundred; this punishment,
however, few survived. For excep
tional offenses the criminal was sen
tenced to have his feet bound to two
different vessels, which were then put
in motion in opposite direction sand he
was torn to pieces.
A Comedy of Frrers.
A good many years ago, in a Vermont
country village, lived two gentlemen
who looked very much alike. One was
a minister, aud the other a violin
player, whose gifts and skill were at
that day in much request. This posi
tion of "things gave rise to the following
"comedy of errors."
As the minister was one day leisurely
walking the streets, a couple of negroes
approached him. One of them remarked
to the other :
"Dat's him now I know him, for I'se
seen him often."
"Well, speak to him 'den," says the
other.
"No, Pete, vou speak to him."
Noticing tliat they wished to hold
some intercourse with him, the dominie
turned round and said :
"Do you wish to seak to me T"
"Yes, ear; we want to know if yon be
particularly engaged next Monday
evening V
"No, I believe not," replied Mr. N,
the idea of a wedding fee presenting
itself, which was not to be slighted on
account of the color of the parties;
"what is it you want P
"We want you, if yon are 'customed
to 'ficiate for colored persons who
are willing to pay, next Monday even
ing, to the Bed House near the toll
gate." "Oh, yes. It's not my practice to
refuse any one on such occasions.
At what hour do you wish me to
come f
"Early candle-light, massa, if you
please. We've not had anything of the
kind in a good while."
"Very well I'll be there," replied the
dominie as he turned upon his heel
thinking that the remark that they had
nothing of the kind in a good while
meant that no wedding had transpired
among them in some time.
True to his appointment, dominie N.
was at the house designated in good
season. The door opened into the
principal room of the house, around
which sat some twenty or thirty of
Africa's sable children, dressed iu their
best According to the instructions
they have received from one of their
number, they all rose at his entrance.
He took a prof erred seat, which was
behind a little desk at one end of the
room, for a moment, and then re
marked, if the parties were all ready
they had better immediately take their
places.
In a moment all was bustle and con
fusion. While some removed the chairs
from the room, eight couple formed as
if for a quadrille. The dominie stared
round in utter amazement, when he
who had been spokesman in engaging
him at the village a few days before,
coming np to him, his mouth grinning
from ear to ear, said :
"Massa Fuse, haben't you brought
your fiddle with yout We haben't got
one here."
"Fuse! Fiddle! What doyoumennT"
exclaimed the dominie, the whole
affair beginning to dawn on his already
quick mind. "Isn't it to be a wed
ding V
"O, no, Massa Fuse; we should hab
the dominie here fust if we hab a wed
ding." The dominie saw at a glance that he
had been sold, and simply giving his
name and occupation, which had alout
the same effect on the darkies as if a
bombshell had suddenly dropped
among themdie rushed from the house.
Bright Hide.
One of Judge Waite's ancestors wss
Thomas Wayte, a member of Parliament
in Cromwell s dsy. and one of the judges
who beheaded King Charles. The
family seem to have been addicted to
the judiciary cosiness tor a long ume.
An Impreved Illnmlnatlng Oas.
The London Mining Journal of a late
date sneaks hitrhlv of an annaratus re
cently devised and tested in London for
the manufacture of illuminating gas.
It is devised as simple in construction,
yet of extraordinary efficacy in accom
plishing its work of doubling the volume
of gas now obtained from a given amount
of coal, rendering the gas of a much
higher llluniiuuting power, while its
purity is increased, the process also
effecting a great saving in lalior. The
virtue of the process is in saving much
of the refuse which now goes to waste,
decomosing it and uniting the consti
tuents with the gus given off by the
usual process of roasting the coal in the
retort, l nree retorts ot iron or clay,
though a greater number may be em
ploved if required, are placed in the
ordinary manner in a setting, and coal
is charged in to the ltottom one, the
next retort being tilled with chalk, and
the upper one with coke. The three are
connected, so that the gas eliminated in
the lower one is made to pass through
the chalk and coke retorts aud finally
after leaving the coke into the hydraulic
main. The gas as it issues from the
ltottom retort.comingthrough the incan
descent chalk in the intermediate retort,
has its constituents, tar and oiumonical
water. lost in its usual process, converted
into illuminating gas. A steam boiler
heated by the same furnace which is
used for the retorts (and the fuel for
which maybe said to 'cost nothing) is
placed alongside, and is conveyed from
iliiiiouie luiemicuiaie rciorr inrongn
a pipe placed iu the tire and of sutlicieut
lenirth to thoroughly decompose the
steam, resolving it into its gaseous con
stituents, which act as carrying gases.
1 Ins drives the tar and liquor out of the
chalk, the earn ing gases and the drv
tcam reabsorbing them and carrying
forward the highly illuminating projier
ties thev are known to possess. The
coal-gas aud water-gas combined then
pass through the incandescent coke in
the top retort, where the steam, having
facilitated the union of all the illumi
nating elements eliminated from the
coal, passes on. Tests made at tempo
rary works show that the illuminating
power is greatly increased, while the
ga is almost wholly free from sulphur
and without ammonia. The lalor is
diminished one-half, and part of the
plant ami apparatus is dispensed with,
so that the cost of works is essentially
cheapened, and the wearand tear greatly
reduced. Coal mis consumers M ill re
joice that they are to be freed from the
i -i r 1 1
curonic evil oi ioor gas, unu nave a
material lightening of gas bills.
The Llvlns Fire.
When night fell on Jerusalem, and
the tide and hum of business had ceased
and one after another the lights were
extinguished, and all fires quenched in
the sleeping city, one was kept alive
the tire that burned on God's holy
altar. "It shall not be put out." Fed
by such logs as blazed on the hearths
and roared in the chimnevsof olden
times, yet this had not been kindled by
man's hands, or blown iuto dame by
his breath. Like God's love in a lost
world, or His wrath on the head of His
dvini? Son. it had descended from the
skies. "There came," it is said, when
Aaron ami his sous were ottering their
first sacrifice, tire out from lctore the
Lord and consumed the burnt-offering
aud the fat, which, when the people
saw they shouted anil fell on their
faces." Whether slumliering in its
ashes or flaming with the fat of sacrifi
ces, the fire burned up night and day
on the altar, nor was it till after the
lease of nearly a thousand year.3 that it
went out quenched, hissing in the
blood of priests who fell in defence of
the temple at the first captivity. Now
in that old altar on which the sacred
fire was always burning, but where
sacrifices were not always ottering, we
see the heart of a devout believer. He
is not always proving; but within His
bosom there is a heaven-kindled love,
tires of desire, fervent longings, which
make linn always ready to pray and
often engage Him in prayer. And thus
he who engages in devout meditations,
and holdscommuniott with God through
His word and also throngh His works,
may, iu resjM'ct of his habitual prevail
ing" frame of mind, as well as of his
frniifiit nravra 1m to "lirav with
out ceasing,'' "always to pray;'' he is
like an .r.oiian narp, on wnose strings,
by night onlay, the wind has but to
breathe to wake up sweet and plaintive
music.
Cape Breton Driving.
Our conveyance was a onc-horse
wagon, with one seat. The horse was
well enough, but the seat was narrow
for three people, and the entire estab
lishment had in it not much prophecy
of liaddeck for that dav. But we knew
little of the power of Cape Hreton driv
ing. It ln-eame evident that we should
reach Uaddeck soon enough if we could
cling to that wagon-seat. The morning
sun was hot. The way was so uninter
esting that we almost wished ourselves
OaCK ill .OVU OCOI1U. uuc ouun iwu
was bordered with discouraged ever
irreens. through which we had glimpses
of sand-drifted farms. If Baddeck was
to lie like this, we had come on a fool s
errand. There were some savage, low
hills.and the Juilique Mountain showed
itself as we got away from the town.
In this first stage, the heat of the sun,
the monotony of the road, aud the scar
city of sli-ep during the past thirty-six
hours, were an uniavoraoie 10 our keep
ing on the wagon-seat. We nodded
separately, we nodded and reeled in
unison. But asleep or awake, the driver
drove like a son of Jehu. Such driving
is the fashion on C'ajie Bretou Island.
Esjecially down-hill, we made the most
of it ; if the horse was on a run. that
was only au inducement to apply the
lush; speed gave the promise ot greater
possible speed. The wagon rattled like
a bark-mill; it swiiledaud leaped about,
and we finally got the exciting impres
sion that if "the whole thing went to
pieces, we should somehow go on such
was our iuietus. Bound corners, over
ruts and stones, and up hill and down,
we went jolting and swinging, holding
fast to the seat, aud putting our trust
in things in general. At the end of fif
teen miles, we stopped at a Scotch farm
house, where the driver kept a relay,
and changed horse. Atlantic Monthly.
Love of the Beautiful.
Place a young girl under the care of a
kind-hearted, gracef nl woman, and she
unconsciously to herself grows into a
graceful lady . flace a boy iu the esta o
lishiuenr of a thorough-going, straight
forward business man, and the boy be
comes a self-reliant, practical, business
man. Children are susceptible crea
tures, and circumstances, and scenes.
and actions always impress, as you
influence them, not by arbitrary rules,
nor by stern example alone, but in a
thousand other ways that speak through
beautiful forms, brettv pictures. &c.
so they will grow. Teach yonrchildren,
then, to love the beautiful. If yoc are
able, give them a corner iu the garden
for flowers; allow them to have their
favorite trees; teach them to wander in
the prettiest wootUets ; show them where
they can best view the sunset; rouse
them in the morning, not with the stern
"Time to work." but with the enthusi
astic "See the beautiful sunrise !" Buy
for them pretty pictures, and encourage
them to decorate their room in his or
her childish way. Give them an inch,
and they will go a mile. Allow them
the privilege, and they will make your
home pleasant and beautiful.
A RasaiM Bath.
Men never can understand why women
have a disinclination to new-fangled
baths, Turkish baths, Bussian baths,
and the like. Women are naturally
cleanly ; ergo, they ought te like bath
ing; ergo, they ought to like baths
which bring the cleansing process np to
a point of absolute perfection, and
which enable the bather to luxuriate in
a sense of delightful ease snd comfort,
much more than ordinary bathing. The
process of reasoning is all right ; one
naturally replies, "Of course they
ought" Then says the reasoner, who
has gradually become exasperated,
"Why don't they?"
Sol try, good friend. There are three
reasons why women have not as yet
taken very kindly to the foreign methods
of bathing which have been introduced
in our midst One is thst they are
afraid of everything to which they are
not accustomed ; another, that they
have no hereditary inclinations or in
stincts to gratify by so doing (baths of
any kind are a modern improvement in
America) ; and, third, they have not
much money.
I confess to sharing the general lazy
disinclination to being subjected to the
drying or steaming process, and only
yielded a reluctant assent to trying the
Imperial Bussian baths because I felt
stupid and had a cold and a headache
and was going to a ball. A brisk walk
on a bright morning stimulated me
somewhat, and my courage rose as I
entered the handsome establishment
but sunk again as I followed the atten
dant down-stairs through narrow pas
sages lit with gas to one of the many
little rooms which are used for dressing
and undressing. I noticed, however,
the finish of the panelled wood-work,
the softness of the velvet carpets, the
perfect cleanliness superadded to the
elegance of the fitting-np and general
surroundings, and concluded that it
was not so bad, after all. There was a
tempting little lounge in the dressing
room, and, af terdisrobing, I was tempted
to lie down and "make believe" I hail
had my bath, but the attendant knocked
at the door, and I folded my sheet tight
about me and followed her along the
dimly-lighted corridor. The misty at
mosphere and my scant white drapery
suggested the difference between myself
and the Ghost in "Hamlet ;" but while
I was endeavoring to solve the conun
drum we plunged into a sea of vapor,
and my mental as well as physical
organs of vision became more obf us
Oited than ever. I weakly climbed up
on a slab, as I was told, lay down at full
length, like a small cod in a fish-kettle,
and silently resolved that if I got safe
out of this it would take more than the
ordinary inducement to bring me back
again. The attendant supplied me with
a can of cold water and a sponge to
place to my mouth and occasionally
bathe my face, and went awav saying
she would be back shortly. I entreated
her to make her absence very short, as
I did not think I should continue to
exist over five minutes ; but at the end
of that time I found myself very com
fortable ; in fact I rather began to like
it. and had msde up my mind that
steaming was not at all a disagreeable
operation. Then I had to take np a
recumbent position on snother slab and
be brushed "curried" I suppose would
be the proper term all over with a fine
lather, which is afterwards washed off
with tepid water. Then I was taken to
the cold-water room, and having a fancy
to see all there was of it, I requested
that it might be "turned on" without
limitation. But good gracious I I had
no idea from how many different direc
tions cold water could be made to come.
It spouted up through the floor ; it fired
at me like shot-guns from the walls ; it
poured down in torrents over head and
shoulders, until I cried Hold, enough !
and went to work with dry towels vig
orously. Then came a period of deli
cious repose in a curtained apartment
enveloped in sheets and blankets ; then
a rubbing and a kneading and a bend
ing of the joints, which reduced them
to a condition of wonderful flexibility ;
then a syringing all over with delightful
perfume ; then a prosaic dressing, but a
feeling of marvellous lightsomeness and
content
I went out into the fresh air; my
headache had disappeared, I felt amia
ble, and might have been brilliant had
there been any one upon whom to exert
my recovered vivacity. 1 will not say
how much I enjoyed the lunch that fol
lowed, the dreamy afternoon ieta, and
the ball in the evening but I would
seriously advise women out of sorts,
young ladies going to balls and who
love to dance, to prepare for it by taking
a Bussian bath. It is quite a new
luxury, and that is a good deal in this
blase age, when so many girls exhaust
life before they have entered upon its
cares and duties.
Real Meaning of the Bankrupt
Law,
A correspondent of the Providence
Journal thinks that in the present state
of business it may be a relief to the
community to know what the Supreme
Court of the United States has decided
the bankrupt law to mean with refer
ence to sales and mortgages made by a
person who, within six months after,
goes into voluntary or involuntary
bankruptcy. In the case of Tiffany
against Lucas, the court says that "aU
sales are not forbidden. The interdic
tion applies to sales with a fraudulent
object, not to those with an honest pur
pose. It is for the interest of the com
munity that every one should continue
his business, and avoid, if possible,
going into bankruptcy ; and yet bow
could this result be obtained if the
privilege were denied a person who wss
unable to command ready money to
meet his debts as they fell due, by
making a fair disposition of his prop
erty in order to accomplish this object
It is true he may fail, noth withstanding
all his efforts, in keeping out of bank
ruptcy, and in that case any sale he has
made within six months of that event is
subject to examination.
Two things must concur to bring the
sale within the prohibition of the law :
The fraudulent design of the bankrupt
and the knowledge of it on the part of
the vendee, or reasonable cause to be
lieve that it existed."
A rear "Behlnsea Craaos.'
A South Sea Islander, the "monarch
of all he surveved," was recently found
on the small island of Bellinghausen.
in the South Pacific. The man could
not speak a word of English, and was,
therefore, perfectly unable to explain to
his rescuers how or in what way he had
become a Robinson Crusoe. He had
received some injuries, which tend to
the supposition that he had been
brought from one of the cluster of the
Polynesian Islands, and left to famish
ifter being first maltreated. He had
lived by eating cocoanuts and oysters,
and but for his discovery would proba
bly have been able to sustain nature
some time. He was taken to London
and thence transferred to Liverpool,
where he is now working as a laborer
at Uie docks.
Youths' Column.
A Little Mcsiciax A hundred years
sgo it wss that an old wheelwright in
Bohemia used to play his harp on holi
day evenings while his wife sang the
songs of her girlhood, and both of them
watched with wonder and delight to see
their little five-year-old Joe run for a
stick and a bit of board, and fiddle
away in time with the music. The
father and mother laughed sometimes,
in spite of themselves : but the little
musician was solemn and earnest and
never made the smallest mistake in time
or cadence.
"Wonderful I" said his cousin, the
old schoolmaster and organist. "Give
the boy to me and I will make him a
great musician."
The parents were glad of the chance ;
and poor little Joe was given over to
the tender mercies of the crusty old
schoolmaster, who gave him plenty of
floggings, but very little to eat or wear.
He would have run away, but for the
music he loved so welL
The Dean noticed his clear voice, snd j down, bnt he wishes she wouldn't take
when his friend Von Kenter, the musical i it np.
director of St Stephen s Cathedral C.mparison of our present estimates
came from Vienna to vwitLim, he sent jof 8UndarJ works & literature with
for little ; Joe to sing betore him. The thosJ formed by ns in earlier life, is
hungry little fellow cast such long.ng ' recommenJe)l by Proctor as the best
looks at a plate of cherries upon the ; te8t of the ot mbA
Dean s table, that on Benter s heart
was touched with pity ; ud, emptying! Boyalty not nnfreqnently gives evi
them all into his hat, he bade him sing j dence of cravings of mind which empty
his best which you may be sure he did i honors cannot satisfy. King Oscar, of
in a voice so clear and sweet that Von '
Beater cried, "Well done !"
It all ended in Joe's going to Vienna
to sing in the choir of St. Stephen's,
and receiving the best of instruction in
violin and piano-forte pUyiug. With
plenty to eat, no more floggings, and
his beloved music from morning till
night, he was as happy as a boy could
be until, at sixteen years of age, his
voice suddenly failed him, and he was
sent from the choi r in tears and distress.
But his courage did not ful him. He
managed to earn a little by giving music
lessons ; and while he lodged in a gar
ret, and lived upon bread and water, he
faithfully studied the works of the great
masters, and practiced composing melo
dies, which made him forget cold and
hunger. He made himself master of
the Italian aud Latin Luiguages ; and at
last the path of famn aud honor was
fairly open to him. His reputation be
came world-wi.le and Lis wonderful
oratories seem divinely inspired.
So the little boy who was starved and
flogged at Uaimburg, and won by a gift
of cherries, who struggled through diffi
culties and misfortunes without losing
his trust in Uod, is kuown all over the
world as Joseph Hadyn.
How would yon have liked being a
guest at a feast iu Pompeii, eighteen
centuries sgo ? Let me see : The hour
would have been about four in the
afternoon, and, if you were a lady, you
would have passed the whole morning
at your toilet, assisted by a retinue of
slaves, each of whom had a separate
duty to perform. If you were a gentle
man, less time would have been neces
sary ; but even then yon must have
slaves to wash you, rub yon, scrape you
with a little curry-comb, and perfume
yon with unguents ; the barber to shave
you, clip and brush your hair, and,
above all, to attend to yonr nails with
pincers and penknife ; for no Koman
with the least self-respect would have
trimmed his own nails. The dignified
Horace condescends to make sport of
an eccentric fellow who used to pare his
own nails. When you reached your
friend's house, yon would have left your
shoes at the door, had yonr feet and
hands wakhed by a servant and taken
your place upon an elegant couch, be
fore which was a table, upon which the
slaves placed one duity after another.
and served each guest a portion, laid
upon a piece of bread. Put it in your
mouth with your fingers, and then
throw the plate upon the floor, where a
slave waits to gather it np. So the
feast goes on ; and, after each course.
the slaves bring you a bowl of water.
into which you dip your fingers, and
then wiDe them on a naukin which von
brought in your pocket ; or, if you be
. - . . - "
dainty, on the hair of your cup-bearer.
hen the feast is over, all the guests
strip off the wreaths from their heads,
throw the leaves into a goblet of wine,
and pass it around for all to taste.
Don't be a grumbler. Some people
contrive to get hold of the prickly side
of everything, to run against ail the
sharp corners, and find out all the
disagreeable things. Half the strength
spent in growling would often set
things right. Yon may as well make
up your mind, to begin with, that no
one ever found the world qnito as he
would like it ; but you are to take
your share of the troubles, and bear
it bravely. Vou will be very sure to
have burdens laid upon you that belong
to other people, unless you are a shirs
yourself; but don't grumble. If the
work needs doing, and you can do it,
never mind about the other boy who
ought to have done it and aid n't.
Those workers who fill up the gaps,
and smooth away the rough tpots, aud
finish np the jobs that othcis leave
undone, they are the true tieace-uiak-trs,
and worth a whole regiment of
growlers.
Beware of that ennning rascal, "Oh,
Had I Learn to make tna best of
what you have, and not lay the blame
of careless, clumsy work upon your
lack of tools. 'the most exquisite
fabrics that the world has ever seen, are
made in easteru countries with the i
simplest of looms, and the clumsiest j
contrivances for spinning, l'oa will ,
find that the people who are always j
wishing for something more and better,
are the very ones who make the poorest
use of what they have. Uaydu Com
posed some of his most wonderful melo
dies with no better instrument than an
old, cracked piano.
Thk&K is an egg-shell in the Museum
of the Jardin ties Plantes which holds
eight and three-fourths quarts ; and a
French merchant claims to have seen,
in Madagascar, one which held thirteen
n 11 .rl. HpMtll., I li j n tKiM. it ..... .mu
o rare, are the eggs of the Brazilian
humming-birds, wiueh are of the size
of a sw-11 white beau. The daiutv
Utile nest which holds them ia wovu
of tine, atlkv tib-r .m.l l,k- h-..
to me loucn. ine young birds are
only of the bigness of bumole-bees, and
sometimes fall a prey to the ugly
spiders, that drag them off for a juicy
feast
Tot is at the window pane,
Watching little drops of rain ;
Down the glass they pitter-patter ;
Totty wonders what's the matter.
Thoughtfully she lifts her eyes
Upward to the darkened skies ;
Earnestly and long she gazes ;
Very sad her little face is,
As she tarns and questions, "Why,
Mamma, do the angels cry ?"
"Varieties.
Idleness is never a virtue.
If yon wish to strike high, aim high.
The Carlista have that little BO, bnt
they'll surely find it a boa.
Tale University has this year 79 in
structors and 970 students.
Colored hosiery is coming into favor
among the New York belles.
A Lincoln monument is to be erected
in London, at a cost of $35,000.
The first white men who trod on
Pennsylvania soil, came down the Dela
ware. A naughty boy recently referred to
some of his sister's music as her "whin
ing sheet"
Although the father of our country
never told a lie, he could be at times
very cutting.
A poorunfortunate who was "assisted"
out of doors the other night ssvs he has
I no objection to hia wife nnttinir her foot
aweuen, nas lnvemea a ure-eecspe wmcn
has proved a success.
Howard Glyndon maintains that the
truth of the epigram that "woman's
work is never done" depends very much
upon the fact that women do not train
themselves to economize either their
strength or their time.
The Saracens are credited with origi
nating the custom of weaving orange
blossoms into bridal garlands. The
orange branch was to them an emblem
of prosperity, because of its bearing
flowers and fruit at the same time.
In Chicago recently, a man was
brought np on a charge of burglary, and
by the advice of his counsel, pleaded
guilty. The District Attorney, however,
declined to prosecute, and the Judge
discharged the self confessed thief.
A steamer recently hauled np in New
London was fonnd to be covered with
barnacles, in some places two feet thick.
The vessel had been in the water little
more than a year, and during that time
had been used as a ferry boat running
almost constant sixUen hours daily.
A Virginia girl, sixteen years of age,
recently ran away from home, and has
since been employed in a Philadelphia
shooting gallery, where she dresses in
boy's clothing. She was probably am
bitions, and chose the companionship
of those who do not lead an aimless life.
The excitement of the recent accident
to young Merrimen, of Danbury,
whereby he was thrown against a fence
and broke both of his legs, brought
together two estranged families and
four estranged single parties in the
neighborhood, and they are now friend
lier than ever.
Sir Samuel Baker recently delivered
an address upon the subject of the slave
trade in Africa, in which he said that on
one occasion, after having lectured a
chief at great length, upon the horrible
nature of the slave trade, the chief con
cluded the interview by offering to sell
his son to Sir SamueL
A Frenchman who recently died, left
in his will a provision that his body be
given to the Paris Gas Company to be
put into a retort for the manufacture of
gas,- giving as a reason that as he had
always nsed his mind for the illumina
tion of the public, he desired his body
applied to the same purpose.
Attempting to suppress a sneeze haa
just proved a serious matter to a lady
of Springfield, Mass. A partial par
alysis was caused by the effort, by
which one side of the face has become
so distorted that her intimate friends
so uiswrteu tnat ner intimate mends
fiul recognize her features, and it is
considered doubtful if they will ever
rilDII ni u thai, natnual B r-vmn n n iu
resume their natural appearance.
They have got a pair of edible Chi
nese dogs in Paris. The puppies are
hairless and fat and live on vegetable
food, and it is very hard to keep the
epicures from devouring them alive.
Who knows wbat profit and pleasure
would result from their introduction to
this country ? There are lots of puppies
here, it is true, but then they are not
exactly toothsome.
Professor John Stuart Blackie writes
to a foreign journal that since Latin is
going ont of use as the language of
universal communications between
tavant and other learned authorities,
Greek is the tongue best fitted to suc
ceed it The latter embraces a larger
and more varied field of culture than
the English even, and is the basis of the
technical terms of ail sciences, down te
the very latest
It has lately been asserted that the
oldest person living was found to be a
woman in Brazil. This may be so ; but
according to the Los Angeles Express
California contains the next oldest in
habitant. She is a Mexican lady, and
resides at San Gabriel. She has reached
131 years, and was always an inveterate
smoker, or, it is argued, might have
preserved more youth in her appear
ance, and perhaps added to the years cf
her life, though there are as yet no
signs in her case of immediate dissolu
tion. A Paris correspondent writes : "The
Vaudeville was brilliantly illuminated
the other night with a gigantic '100' in
letters of fire blazing above its portals,
in honor of the one hundredth night of
'Uncle Sam,' which charming play is
mightily relished by the Parisians on
account of the 'singular truthfulness to
nature of the American manners therein
presented.' They swallow it all, these
benighted Parisians the steamboat
that runs between New York and Chi-
! cago, the fashionable watering-place of
Newark, the young lady who goes
thither to spend a con pie of weeks in
company with the gentleman to whom
she is engaged, and all the rest of it"
L..T"1 ot ha ,Amen5n
I F,sh uItn,8is Association furnished
i nc of h Pld Pr"Kr?M wh,d
b made in the artificial propaga-
I 'ion of flh within the last two or three
years. 1 be salmon oi Caiilornia nave
been transported to New England
waters, and the shad of the Hudson
snd the Connecticut now swim in the
Columbia and the Sacramento. The
time is evidently approaching when the
rivers' and ponds of America that are
now destitute of fish shall bloom, so to
speak, with the trout and blosom with
the black bass. The result of fish-cnl-tnre,
if energetically managed, will un
doubtedly be to render the best varieties
of fish so cheap as to bring them within
the reach of every one. This is a result
that will commend itself alike to the
practical philanthropist and the disci
ples of Izsak Walton.
1 .
! ' "i