T
B. F. SCHWEIER,
THE CONSTITUTION THE UNION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXVIII.
MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., JUNE 17, 1S74.
NO. 24.
: i r -
I'oetry. wiasiso a xew dress.
E.IBL HlLDASti DAIttHTEK.
It was Eari Haitian daughter.
She look'd across the water.
AuJ long and loud laugh'd she;
--The locks of six princesses
Munt be nrr marriage fee.
So her. bontiy boat, and bo, bonny boat!
Who comes a-wooiug me !"
It was Earl HaMau'a daughter,
She walked along the sand;
When she was aware of a kuight so fair.
Come sailing to the land.
His sails were all of velvet.
Hit mast of beaten gold.
And "bey, bouiiv boat, and ho. bouuv boat '.
Who sailetli here so bold ?"
"The lucks of live princesses
I won beyond the sea;
I whore their golden tretwea
To fringe a cloak for thee.
One handful yet is wanting.
But one of all the tale.
So. hey. bonny boat, and ho. banny boat !
Furl up thy velvet sail !"
He leapt into the water.
That rover young and bold;
He gript Earl Haldan's daughter;
He xhore her lot-ks of gold :
tJo weep, go woe;i, proud maiden.
The tale is full to-day.
Jk hey, bouuy boat, and ho, bonny boat !
Sail westward, ho, and awav V
rI isct'ilnny.
tiiraraurrs I gal lint lliut.
The history of English l-w contain
few more startling judicial tragedies
than that to which the statute? against
u'.irler owsd snch hnmue amendment
as to make the fiudiug and positive
identification of th lxJy of the slaiu
pt-rsou essential to the conviction of the
murderer; aud as the same remarkable
cie had a peculiar innr.il ami social
insignificance for the young lovers of
all times, who, in their passionate de
votion to each other, are altogether too
apt to disregard the fortunes of every
body else in the world, it may be
replied appropriately for modern
reading.
Upon the death of Mr. Guorge Per
kins, a widower of considerable prop
erty in London, it was fonnd that bis
will appointed a brother of his, living
near Epping Forest, the sole guardian
of his only daughter, and directed that
said guardian should inherit the whole
fortune devised in case bis young ward
should die either unmarried" or without
children. Implicit confidence in bis
brother, who was a middle aged bach
c or of limited nieaus, had of course
inspired the dying man to make such a
will; but a number of family relatives
pronounced the document an extraor
dinary piece of servile fatuity and
darkly hinted that harm would ensue
from it. This feeling caused an aliena
tion letween the occupants of the Ep
ping Forest residence and the aforesaid
prophets, and made the latter become
the bitterest persecutors of the dead
man's brother in the strange and tragic
succeeding events which have been
described as follows :
Uncle and niece were both seen one
day walking together in the forest, but
the young lady suddenly disappeared,
and the nncle declared that he had
sought her as soon as he missed her,
and knew not whither she had gone or
what had besome of her. This account
was considered improbable.anJ appear
ances being clearly suspicions, be was
arrested and taken before a magistrate.
Other circumstances, hourly coming to
light, rendered his position serious. A
young gentleman in the neighborhood
had been paying his addresses to Miss
Perkins. It was stated, and gencially be
lieved, that he had gone.a few days be
fore she was missed, on a journey to
the north, and that she had declared that
she would marry him on his return.
The ancle had repeatedly expressed his
disapprobation of the match, and Miss
Perkins had loudly reproached him
with his nnkindness and abuse of his
authority over her as his ward.
A woman named Margaret Oukes was
produced, who swore that about 11
o'clock on the day on whieh Miss Per
kins was missed she was passing
through the forest and heard the voice
of a young lady earnestly expostulating
with a gentleman. On drawing nearer
the spot whence the sound came. Mar
Caret Oaks testified that she heard the
lady exclaim: "Don't kill me, nncle,
don't kill me !" The woman was greatly
terrified, and ran away from the spot
As she was doing so she heard the re
port of firearms. On this combination
of circumstantial and positive evidence,
coupled with the suspicion of interest,
the uucle was tried, convicted of mur
der, and almost immediately afterward
according to the custom of those days
was hanged.
About ten days after the execution of
the sentence npon the nucle, the niece
reappeared, aud stranger still, showed
by the history she related, that all the
testimony given on the trial was strictly
true. MihS Perkins said that, having
resolved to elope with her lover, they
hud given out that he had gone on
a jonruey to the north, whereas he had
merely waited near the t-kii ts of the !
f rest until the time appointed for the
eloiement, w hich was the very day on
which she disappeared. Her lover had
horses ready saddled for them both.and
two servants in attendance on horse
back. While waiting wittt her nncle,
he reproached her with her resolution
to marry a man of w horn he disapproved,
and, after some remonstances, she pas
sionately exclaimed : ri
"I have set my heart npon him. If
I don't marry him it will be death to
me; and don't kill me, nncle, don't kill
me !"
Just as she proclaimed those words
she heard a gun fired, at which she
started, aud she afterward saw a man
come from among the trees with wood
pigeon in his hand, which he had shot
On ipproaching the spot appointed for
a meeting with her lover, she formed a
pretence to induce her nncle to go on
before her. She then fled to the arms
of her lover, who had been waiting for
her. and they both mounted their horses
tad immediately rode on. Instead,
however, of going to the north, they
retired to Windsor, and abont a week
afterward went on tonr of pleasure to
France. There they passed some
months so happily that in those days,
when newspapers were scarce, when
there was no very regular postal com
munication, and no telegraphs, they
never heard of their nncle's sad fate
until their return to England.
In numerous letters to her family and
friends, the Duchess of Edindurgh de
scribes her life in England as one of
perfect happiness. She speaks with
great gratitude of the cordial
friendly reception she has met with from
all with whom she has come in contact
the Queen, the royal family, and the
court at large.
"Such a beautiful new silk as Mrs.
Leith has got," exclaimed Tom Vernon's
" they were eating breakfast
xhe loveliest shade of a lavender, and
trimmed with lace that must have cost
at least three dollars a yard. It's iust
exquisite 1"
"Of course," laughed Tom ; "I can
foresee what all this enthnsiasm is
leading to. My little household di
vinity has an idea in her head that she
wonld look well in lavender silk."
"I did not ay anything of the kind."
said Mrs. Vernon ; but Tom knew by
the way she said it that he had guessed
pretty near the truth.
"And the way in which she got it
makes it all the more enjoyable, she
says," went on Mrs. Vernon. "Yon
know Leith's always telling how easy it
is to get the start of a woman in a joke,
or anything of that kind. It seems Mrs.
Leith got the start of him in some way,
and he felt so cheap over it that he
promised to get her the prettiest dress
in town if she'd keep still in regard to
it That's the way she earned her
lavender silk."
"Poor Leith 1" laughed Tom. "I
don't pity him, though. He ought to
be able to hold his own with a woman.
I'd like to see a woman get the start of
me !"
"I'll tell yon what I'll do." said Mrs.
Vernon, with a merry twinkle in her
eye, and a view to business. IU agree
to get the start of you in some way if
you'll get me a lavender silk."
"Agreed !" responded Tom. "But
I'm afraid yon won't have your new
dress very soon, my dear."
"See if I don't" said Mrs. Vernon,
wisely. "It isn't such a hard thing to
get the start of you men as you think
it is. We could do it any day if we
cared to try."
"Oh !" laughed Tom, giving her a
kiss as he spoke, we are not conceited
at all, are we ?"
"Not the least," answered his pretty
wife ; "you wait and see how the case
stands by and by."
"Well, I'll wait, answered Tom, rush
ing round distractedly in search of his
hat" "Where the dickens ? I hear
the train coming, and I've only three
minutes to get to the depot in. Oh,
here it is ; good bye, Kitty, and remem
ber, I predict that yon will lose your
new silk dress," and with another kiss
he was off.
"Rather a poor show for comfort,"
thought Tom Vernon, two or three days
after that, as he entered the crowded
car, and looked about him for a vacant
seat
Every seat was occupied. The poor
fellow thought he had got to make the
best of it and take a standing ride
homeward, when a yonng lady, at least
he considered she was a young lady j
from her style of dress, but couldn't be
certain of anything, because her face
was hidden under a brown veil,
beckoned him toward her, aud offered
him half her seat j
Tom was always very snsceptible.
The fair sex had Kept his heart in a
continual flutter before he married.
Kov, he felt sure that there wasn't a
woman like Kitty in the world, and yet
he couldn't overcome his susceptibility.
A pair of bright eyes bewitched him for
the time being. A smile from a pretty
face was too much for him to resist I
Therefore, when this veiled lady,
offered him a seat beside her. Torn,
with a face that was very expressive of
the pleasure with which he accepted
the offer, came forward and sat down, j
wondering who it could be behind the
brown veil. Some young lady who
knew bim by sight, he was pretty sure,
because there was something in the
trim little figure that seemed rather
familiar to him.
The train started with a jerk, and the
yonng lady was nearly twitched off the
seat. Tom helped her to become settled,
and in some way his hand got entangled
with hers, and he didn't try to disen
tangle it The young lady didn't seem
to have any very serious objections to
the situation, for she permitted Tom's
fingers to cling to her own daintily
gloved one under cover of her shawL
Tom said something once or twice,
but the lady didn't seem inclined to
talk much.
It was perhaps a half hour's ride from
the city to the place where Tom got off.
A half hour doesn't seem very long, but
it was quite long enongh for Tom to get
np a silent flirtation with his young
lady companion. Once or twice he
wondered what his wife would say if
she knew all abont it But then it was
just to pass away the time, and there
wasn't any harm in it. Merely an inno
cent amusement
Jast before reaching the station where
Tom lives, the train passed through a
tunnel.
Into this tonnel plunged the train
on this memorable evening. The lamps
had not been lighted in the car, aud of
course everything was wrapped in mid
night darkness.
"May I have a kiss ?" whispered Tom,
leaning toward the brown veil "J out
one," he pleaded.
There wasn't any reply in words, but
Tom, whose arm had stolen about the
silent young lady's waist felt a cunous
tremble shake her. He didn't know but
she was langhing at lain. .
"Silence gives consent said Tom,
and pulled away the brown veil and
plumped a whopping kiss somewhere in i
the vicinity of her ear. ....
Just then the train dathed out ol the
tunnel, and Tom hoped to see the face
of his queer companion. Bat the brown
veil was down.
The train stopped, and Tom got np
to get off.
So did his companion.
A cold shiver ran over him. What if
the story should leap out !
He hurried out of the car. and looked
around at the door, to find the brown
veil close behind him. '
He made a plunge for the platform,
bnt he couldn't escape his fate, lne
brown veil followed him.
"Who the dickens can it be ? thought
Tom. "If it's any one who's going to
stay here awhile, Kittie will be sure to
hear of it, and I don't know how I could
explain it to her satisfactorily. W omen
are so particular." . .
"Hello, Tom !" called out a fnend,
coming np jast then. "J ast from the
"'"Tea." said Tom, who was meditating
a hasty retreat "Who . that woman
n the brown veil. Bernard ? She came
np on the train with me.
That woman in the brown veil ?
said Bernard, looking about among the
crowd ; "I don't see any.
Tom breathed freer.
"I don't see her now. I didn t know
who she was. bnt there was something
kind of familiar in her appearance, 1
fancied. Good gracious I"
Tom's last remark was DJ
the appearance at his elbow of the iden
tical lady in the brown veu.
"i'dltte to walk home
youWno objection,- she said, with
a qneer little tremble in her voice, as if
a laugh was not far back of it
"With me !" cried Tom aghast "I
that is" v
'Oh, it doesn't make any difference,"
laughed the lady, and Tom s eyes were
something worth seeing when he heard
that laugh. "Dear, dear! It's too
good to keep ! Oh, Tom ! Don't yon
know me?"
Up went the brown veil, and there
stood Kittie, her face perfectly con
vulsed with merriment
"I'll be shot if it isn't my wife !'
cried Tom, looking as if he wanted to
faint or do something equally divert
ing.
"Didn't know your own wife I" cried
Bernard. "I declare, if that isn't the
richest joke of the season. I say, Tom,
I mnst tell the boys abont that Oh, I
must real!,.
"Just one." whispered Kittie to Tom,
with her eyes full of mischief. "Silence
gives consent". "Wouldn't yon like
another one ?"
"Tom's face was as red as the rose in
Kittie's hat
"Iyon'll keep still about that"
"Yonll get me that lavender silk,
finished Kitty.
"Yes, I'll do it." cried Tom. "Just
say it's a bargain."
"And you'll never do so again?
added Kittie.
"Never, as sure as my name's Tom
Vernon, said Tom silently.
' ell. on those terms, I agree to say
nothing abont it, but it was so rich !
and Kittie couldn't help langhing till
she cried. "Oh, Tom, to think of it !"
Tom declares now that he knew who
the lady in the brown veil was all the
time, hut he can't make his wife be
lieve it She got the laveuder silk, and
the transaction bids fair to be a lucky
one for her, because if she wants any
thing she has only to say : "J ust one 1'
and 'Silence gives consent 1" and Tom,
looking decidedly sheepish, is sure to
come to terms.
The Itombardmeat of Bilbao.
A correspondent of the London timr.
who was in Bilbao immediately after
the raising of the siege, says many of
the inhabitants have pale, famine
stricken looks, bnt the majority have
suffered less than might have been ex
pec ted, although their privations have
been very severe. A room was shown
to me in which many persons were
huddled together, among them a women
in child-bed. I heard another family
which for seven weeks lived in a cellar
sleeping in their clothes. Many have
naturally suffered from want of light
aud air ; food also was scarce and bad,
and for the last five days there was no
bread, and garbanzos and maize cakes
were nsed as substitutes. Cats and rats
are said to have been eaten commonly.
Horseflesh was 4s. pound, veal 8s., one
egg Is., a cabbage 3s, There was little
wine, and that of bad quality.
"The inhabitants deserve the highest
credit for their resolute endurance.
They declare they were prepared to hold
out another month. Few lives have
been lost ; less than thirty. Great pre
caution was taken, doors and windows
being fortified with sand bags and
planks, and watchmen placed in towers
to observe the besieging batteries and
blow horns warning people to retire
within doors whenever a gun was fired.
The destruction of property, however,
was terrible ; scarcely one house has es
caped, the interior of many being de
molished. One received forty-two shells,
another twenty-five. Scarcely a whole
pane of glass is to be seen anywhere.
The Carlists bombarded thirty-nine
days and threw C.OOOshella of old spheri
cal pattern. In addition to the destruc
tion inside the town, numerous houses
were set on fire by a portion of the
Bilbao Volunteers, who were angry with
the occupants for sympathizing with
the Carlists. Many farm Houses ronnd
Bilbao are still in flames. Three bridges
in Bilbao have also been destroyed by
floods. The river is now clear, and the
first steamer that arrived since the siege
was loudly cheered by a large crowd.
The Carlists left behind three spiked
guns. Their precipitate retreat is said
to be owing to four battalions refusing
to fight,
The Light
Moot Fiavor-able to
Beauty.
Wincklemann relates that the young
girls of Borne, after they have been
promised in marriage, are seen by their
lovers for the first time in public, in the
rotunda of the Pantheon, because the
light enters there by a single opening in
the roof, and the light from above is
most favorable to beauty. Women are
the judges and from their decison there
is no appeal. Man being the only one
among living beings to whom the up
right attitude is natural, it is fitting he
should receive the light from above, as
this enchances all the graces of the hu
man figure, of which bight is the domi
nant demension. The contrary is true
of the scenes of nature. The moun
tains, the hills, the trees, the rivers, the
ravines and the other accidents of the
landscape, lose a part of their character
and their form when lighted perpen
dicularly. Thus a field is never more
interesting for a landscapist Mian when
it is traversed obliquely, almost hori
zontally, by the rays of the rising or
setting snn. In a gallery whose open
ings are made on the slope of the roof,
statues produce the most agreeable ef
fect and have the most dignity. A sheet
of light extends itself over the breast
enlarges it visibly, effaces the lower
part of the ribs, lessens the projection
of the abdomen ; but it is the hnman
head above all which under the light
from above reveals all its beauties. The
eyebrows become more prominent the
eyes more brilliant under the dark
cavity hollowed by the arch of the
brows, the cheek bones slightly raised,
the nose simplified and lengthened,
marked by a luminons line that sup
ports the shadow thrown where the
black of the nostrils is softened and
lost Let the light come from below,
all the beautiful order is overthrown.
Ideal eeu
The celebrated anatomist Professor
Hyrtl, of the Vienna University, re
cently opened one of his lectures to his
class with the singular question:
"Which is the uiost beautiful foot con
sidered from the anatomical stand
point f aud then said : "It is remark
able that there can be so many diver
gent opinions on this subject hile
the sous of men look upon a small,
slender and graceful foot (if a lady's
foot) as an ideal one, the anatomist ut
terly rejects it as beautiful, and only
the large, long and broad foot is the
ideal one in his eyes. Even the great
est classical writers of antiquity
Horace, Catullus and others who had
great appreciation of feminine beauty,
never mentioned, in the description of
their beloved, their small feet The
people belongingto the CelOc race have
small feet, the Hindooa,especially,have
such small feet and hands that they
may be envied by many European
The rreatest beauties of
Europe the Italians have really long-
and broau ieeu
THE GEM OF THE BERKSHIRE HILLS.
There is a sense in which, of course,
every town has a history; but there are
comparatively few towns, even in our
most historic commonwealths, whose
origin stands so directly connected with
great movements of mind, and far
reaching plans of men, in both hemis
pheres, as that of the unpretending
town of Williamstown, in Berkshire
county, Massachusetts.
In the museum of Bowdoin College,
Maine.there may le seen a curious relic
in the shape of a bell half imlediled in
the stock of a tree. This bell belonged
to a Jesuit chapel, built at Norridire
wock, on the Keuuebec, by Father
ltale, who was there as a French Mis
sionary to the Indians certainly as early
as 1UU3, and whose t-hapel was pillaged
and burnt iu 1724 by a party of English,
under the ln-lief that French and In
dian hostilities airaiiist the New K in
landers were stimulated and aided by
this Jesuit priest. He himself was
killed at the same time, several chiefs
who endeavored to protect him sharing
his fate; aud his body was disgracefully
mutilated by those who hud shot him,
but was afterwards tenderly buried by
the Indians Itcneath the spot where he
used to stand before the altar. The
Is ll of the chattel in some way fell into
the embrace of a growing tree, which
preserved it till, iu our own time, the
woodmen found it at their work, and
sent it where it will be preserved till
the end of time.
The death of this last Catholic mis
sionary in New England, and the con
sequent almndoiimeiit of Indian mis
sions, hud licen preceded anil was fol
lowed by a I a lire emigration of the
Indians, who had ls-cn under French
influence, to Canada. They left their
hunting grounds ou the Keneltee, the
Andro.M'ogjrin and the C'oiiiiiiticiit.und
sought new homes in the North aud
West; but the remembrance of their
former seats still remained; they were
full of indignation against those whom
they regarded as intruders; and it
needed only a war l-tveen France anil
Lus;laud to furnish them justification
and employment iu predatory excur
sions of their own against the frontier
English settlements, or ill act in;; as
guides, tlironh a region with which
thev were lM-rfcctlvacquaiiited.to other
and more distant Indians. Such a war
was declared iu 1744.
No sooner u as thisdecluratiou known
iu the New World than the frontier
settlements of Massachusetts were ex-
IKised to incursions from Canada by
lostile French aud Indians. Their
favorite nut lis from the St. Lawrence
were eitlier by Luke Champluin, up
Wood aud litter creeks, across the
highlands of Vermont dowu Wells and
White rivers to the Connecticut, or by
Ijike Keortre, across the earn ing place
to the headwaters of the Hudson, and
thence up the Hoosac and across the
watershed now pierced by the Hoosac
Tunnel (almost directly over which
rnns the old Indian path) to the lh-cr-
lield Kiver. Towards the settlement
these routes converged, and the egress
of the war-partii-s was pretty sure to
e somen here between Jtrattlelxtro on
the Connecticut aud the ba.se of Saddle
Mountain, near the headwaters ol the
Hoosac. :
lu the very year in winch Hale was
shot, and to cover the towns iu the
vallcv of the Connecticut from the at
tacks of the Indians, Fort Mummer had
leen erected on the site of what is now
Hrattlelioro'. and liecame the first Enjr-
lish settlement within the limits ot the
present State of Vermont, i In the first
news of the declaration of war lietwccii
France and Kii'-land. the provincial
government of Massachusetts author
ized the construction of a line of small
forts from Fort iMiinmer to the valley
of the Hoosac. at the foot of Saddle
Mountain. These works were in what
are now the towns ot liernnrilston.
Heath. Howe, Coler.ime, and North
Adams, and were, all built in the sum
mer of 1744. under the superintendence
of Kphraim Williams, after whom loth
it-:n I n-:li: . .,..11
vi uuuiusiow ii ami iiiiains v oiu c
are named. He commanded also, with
the rank of captain, this line of de
fenses, having his headquarters at Jrort
Massachusetts, the westernmost aud
principal of his works. Again aud
aniin was this fort attacked by the
r rench anil Indians; and lit August,
174)i. while Captain Williams was ab
sent on a military expedition to Canada,
it was captured after an obstinate de
fence by a party of eiirht hundred men,
and the garrison carried prisoners to
I annua. Just two years atter.it was
attacked again by three hundred and
thirty French aud Indians, Captain
Williams lieing present, but this time
the assailants were driven off with
loss.
The peaceof Aix-la-Chapclle brought
back his prisoners from Canada, and
gave Captain Williams leisure to at
tend to the wants of his companions iu
arms aud to the interests of the Upper
Hoosac. At his instance the General
Court of Massachusetts appointed, iu
jl74'J, a committee "to survey and lay
out two townships on Hoosac Kiver,
each of the contents of six miles square
iu the U-st of the laud, and in as regu
lar a form as may be, joining them to
gether,nnd return a correct plat of said
townships;and also to return the course
and distance of said towns from Fort
Massachusetts. The next year the west
township, now Williuiustown, was laid
out iu detail by another committee,
who were directed "to grant us many
lots as they should think proM-r to the
soldiers of the garrison of Fort Massa
chusetts." Williams himself received
a graut of one huiidredand ninety acres
iu the east tow uship.now North Adams,
and thus became owner of the large
meadow ou which the fort was built,
aud on which is now growing, to mark
the very site of the old fort a F'lorida
elm tree planted a few years ago by
one of the professors of Williams Col
lege. The peace of Aix-la-Cliapelle was
little more than a truce. The French
were in undisputed possession of the
great valleys of the St. Lawrence, the
Ohio aud the Mississippi; they hud the
friendship of the Indian triltes. except
the Six Nations; their territory en
closed, in thw form of an arc of a cir
cle, all the English settlements; they
were bound at least to maintain entire
the possessions which they had.even if
they had not determined to bring to
gether the horns of their cresent and
thus fliug the English into the sea. The
great thoughts of the great men of the
old world were directed to this great
question of the new world. 1 he must
prominent political problem of the
middle of the hist century, which all
statesmen were straining their minds
to solve, was whether France or Eng
land were to control the vast terri
tories and resources of this continent
In the meantime the colonists them
selves became full of enthusiasm, over
this practical question, and, before an
other formal declaration of war was
made between the two. countries, two
expeditions against the two most im
portant French forts bad set out with
nigh hopes, one led by a British Major
General, who had George Washington
for one of his aids, against the fort at
the forks of the Ohio; and the other
commanded by Sir William Johnson,
but consisting mainly of militia-men
from New England. Both failed in
their immediate object; but as the
scenes of Braddock's defeat were the
foundation of Washington's fame, so
the fight at the head of Lake George,
in which Ephraim Williams was killed,
consecrated another name to nnending
remembrance. For Williams, on his
way to the battlefield as Colonel of a
Massachusetts regiment which was
made up in part from his old comrades
at the fort, made his will at Allmny,
and devised all his property to the
founding of a free school in the west
township on the Hoosac, provided that
when the Itoundary lines were drawn
between New York and Massachusetts
the township should fall within the
latter and should be called illiams-
town. Both these conditions were met,
and the free school lecame Williams
College in lVJ-i, and the town has been
proud of the geuial memory of its
founder from that dav to this. The
sword and the watch of Colonel Wil
liams. both of them on his person when
the fatal bullet struck him, now hang
as memorials in the trustees' room of
the college.
The town is equally remarkable for
the quiet Iteanty of its valley, and for
the Itolduess and variety of the moun
tain scenery about it. It is, indeed, as
Kufus Choute once expressed it on the
sMt, "surrounded bv an eternal poem
of hills." "Baptized in the blood of its
founder, and surrounded by an eternal
mem of hills,"was the whole expression
of that mngiciun-orator. Aside from
the collcire. now approaching its cen
tennial, whose reputation draws young
men trom a very wide circle ot country,
Williuiustown is liecoming more ami
more noted as a place of summer re
sort. Formerly, there was a great lack
of suitable hotels for the accommoda
tion of strangers, but this lack has now
bceu abundantly supplied.
Uurial Better than C'rcuiatio n
Dr. P. H. Holland, a British Medical
Inspector, writes in opposition to ere
mation, to a London journal. He
says :
"it the advocates ol cremation con
fined their efforts to trying to persuade
those who prefer it to adopt the prac
tice of cremation, I for one should not
think it worth while to oppose them,
being well assured that so very few
wonld follow that advice that little
practical inconvenience would result;
though if, contrary to all reasonable
expectation.tbe practice should become
common or even frequent some very
troublesome precaution would have to
be taken to guard against the destruc
tion of evidence of guilt or, what is as
important, of innocence, in cases of
suspected marder.especially by poison.
S.ime of the advocates for cremation,
however, not content with asserting
that the dead might be burned without
creating any nuisance, which I do not
donbt is possible provided great care
be taken and no cost spared,also assert
what is quite untrue, that by no amount
of reasonable care can the practice of
burial be continued without great risk
of injury and the certainty of danger;
and one of them has even ventured to
adduce, as proof, that well situated and
well managed cemeteries are or mnst
become pnblic nuisances, because, for
sooth, overcrowded burial grounds
were so when clost-ly snrronnded by
dwellings, and in which the remains of
the dead were constantly being dis
turbed before decay was completed.
As well might it be contended that be
cause a dung heap in a close conrt is a
dangerous and disgusting nuisance,
therefore a cultivated garden, rendered
fertile by the same sort of manure,
must necessarily be a source of danger
to all near it Many of the recently
established cemeteries are in effect or
namental gardens, mnch nsed as favor
ite resorts for air and exercise by large
numbers of persons who have no easy
access to other such places, and it is
simply incredible that they would be
so nsed if they were, as has been rashly
asserted, offensive and disagreeable.
It is, of course, essential to safety that
the situation for cemeteries should be
well chosen, and that they should be
very carefully managed; but to assert,
as has been asserted, that when so
situated and so managed they are
causes of reasonable apprehension to
all residing near them, is too absurd to
be believed by any one but an enthu
siastic advocate of cremation obliged
to nse bad arguments, being short of
good ones.
"As the alleged economy of the pro
posed change, the answer is very sim
ple. The cost of raising to a white
heat a chamber seven feet long and five
feet in diameter, in which it is stated a
corpse may be reduced to ashes in an
honr, mnst be mnch more than for dig
ging a grave, and as in most places
cemeteries have been already provided
which mnst bt paid for whether nsed or
not the cost of the grave itself can but
rarely be saved; but even if all cost of
burial itself could be avoided, the ex
pense of funerals would be but little
reduced, unless, indeed, the people at
large could be persuaded to forego all
costly ceremony in the disposal of the
dead. They are, indeed, gradually
learning that undertakers' display is
vulgar and tasteless, as well as waste
ful, but its diminution would not ne
cessarily be effected by the substitution
of burning for burying, while it might
be mnch diminished if provision were
made, as it easily might be, for avoid
ing fnneral processions from the dwell
ings to the cemetery and confining the
ceremony within the precinct of the
cemetery itself. If the coffiu were con
veyed previously to a place of reception
at the cemetery, the funeral party might
assemble there with as little trouble or
cost as if they were going to church; by
which plan the temptation to make
funeral display would be removed with
the opportunity of doing so. Of course,
such a change in established custom
can only be effected gradually; but, if
once tried, its great convenience would
insure its rapid adoption. One of its
advantages would be that those living
near the roads leading to cemeteries
would not be annoyed by the sight of
funerals now sometimes so frequent as
io be a serions subject of complaint"
A Manner.
No man, however low down in the so
cial scale, but has some redeeming
quality. Our friend whogavethe chnrch
members a well merited rebuke, ac
knowledged the "corn" as to his failing,
and took particular pains to show np
theirs , They bail a parish in onr chnrch,
writes a New England correspondent,
and the great question of the salary of
the pastor of Blank was np for discus
sion. But the debate was like the han
dle of a pitcher all on one side, nearly
every one taking the ground that would
be impossible to go beyond the present
starvation point At length, to the sur
prise of all, a poor old man who was
never known to speak in meeting, rose,
and holding on by the pew to steady
himself, said : "Mr. Chairman, they
call me a droll fellow, and so I am ;
they oall me a drunkard, and so I am ;
they call me a swearer, and it is true,
and I'm ashamed of it ashamed of all ;
bnt I ain't half so mnch ashamed of it
as I am that I have to live i a town
where the people are to stingy to give
the minister a decent living. The ef
fect of this short speech was very happy.
It shamed the people into duty and
decency, and the salary was increased
by the unanimous vote of the congregation.
The Paris papers announce the death
of Baroness Michaela de 1 ontalba.
native of New Orleans, and the late
owner of princely estates in that city
tne daughter ot Von Andres Aimenas-
ter. the Spanish intendant of finances
of the colony of Louisiana, who founded
the cathedral in New Orleans and sev
eral charitable and religions institn
tions, and who died, leaving his daugh
ter the wealthiest then this side of the
Atlantic.
In those days, and indeed long after
ward, the fair demoiselles of the colony
finished their education at the convent
and made their debut in society and the
fashionable world at a very early age.
And, indeed, marrying at fourteen and
fifteen years of age was no rare thing
for them to do. As Mile. Almenaster
was married in 1S12, at the age of nine
teen, to her cousin, the Baron de Pon
talba, it was some time ere that date
when she reigned a belle in the parlors
of the old Creole aristocracy, and where
she met the celebrated John JleDon
ongh, the New Orleans millionaire. Of
marvelous beauty, and an heiress, the
young merchant fell an easy victim to
her charms, and his subsequent lonely
life and asceticism were attributable to
the early and crushing disappointment
01 nis love.
Yonng McDonongh. from the cul
tared society of Baltimore, obtained an
easy enlre in the privileged circles of
the southern capital, where his gay and
dashing habits and luxurious living soon
made him a noted personage. It was not
long however before the bewildering
Spanish beauty led him captive. He
proposed marriage, bnt the answer he
received was as decisive as it was mor
tifying. He was not rich enough to
marry tne heiress ol JJon Andres Al
menaster.
In his bitter anger McDononch vowed
he wonld live and work until he was
richer than all the Almenasters and
Pontalbas put together. He kept his
word. A recluse from the moment of
his rejection, the energies of his pow
erful mind and indomitable will were
absorbed in money-getting. He accu
mulated eight millions of dollars, and
died in a lonely house, opposite New
Orleans, with only servants for attend
ants, a comparative stranger in the
city where he had lived all his life, and
of whose property he was so largely the
owner.
In his death-hour he talked incohe
rently of his early disappointment and
desired that a small painting on ivory,
supposed to be a likeness of his early
charmer, be bnried with him. It was
done, and so failed from the world his
romance and his life.
lftmu aid Home.
Woman i. r.t civilized woman may
be defined as a housekeeping animal.
The girl of three summers busying her
self with the cares of an automaton
family dressing, undressing, and re
dressing her doll-children, making her
baby-house beds, arranging her minia
ture chairs and tables, setting out her
mimic tea-set, boiling her dwarf tea
kettle, and regulating the general econ
omy of her Lilliputian household is
ODly a type of the dignified matron who
shall one day unless nature is cheated
of her true vocation preside in a home
of her own, governing with a gentle
sway, and diffusing around her that
quiet felicity which more than compen
sates for the loss of Eden.
Heaven did not intend women to be
the inmates of boarding-houses. They
are out of their element in all such
abiding-places. There are erratic ex
ceptions to the general rule, but the
true sphere of really womanly woman
is her own home her true "mission"
to make her husband and her children
happy. Her heart more than her head,
"marshals her the way she should go."
Her affections, her wifely and motherly
love, instructs her intellect, sharpens
her perceptions, and gives force, en
ergy and precision to her plans and
purposes. Such a woman prateth not
of her sex's rights mourneth not over
its wrongs. She attends no conven
tions, covets not the double-barrelled
garment demands not a scat on the
bench, a post in the State, or a vote
through the ballot-box. Content with
the position assigned to woman by the
Almighty at the creation, and which
the prophets, patriarchs, apostles, and
the Saviour himself, have declared to
be most meet and seemly for the
"weaker vessel," the good wife never
attempts to overstep the limits of her
appropriate sphere, but makes that
sphere a charmed circle, within which
the husband and father is disburdened
of his business cares, and enjoys a full
ness of placid happiness which the out
side world can neither give nor take
away. Fortunate is he who hath such
a woman to wife; for she shall not only
smooth the roughness of his earthly
journey, but lead him gently by the
hand toward heaven.
Poznarions Pilgrim.
At the "holy place" at Bethlehem
(says the t'olttane Uazcttc of May 3,
quoting from the Acne Freie J'renst )
the Christian pilgrims nave caused a
violent fray. According to a ens torn
introduced some years ago the Latin
Convent formed in spring a religious
excursion to the Jordan, in which the
pilgrims who have arrived from Europe
are accustomed to take part. On their
return they attend generally a Te Deum
in the Grotto of the Nativity. On the
8th ultimo the multitude of pilgrims,
which this time was particularly nu
merous, returned from the Jordan to
Bethlehem and wanted to enter with
with flying banners and in a great pro
cession to the Grotto through the so
called "Iron Gate." The Turkish mili
tary in charge of the Temple at Beth
lehem, in order to keep the Christians
of the different confessions from break
ing their necks against one another, ex
plained to the leader that the Latin
clergy had, it is true, the right of pas
sage through this gate, but that under
present relations they mnst take their
way through the portal of the Latin
Convent which leads into the chnrch
itself. Thereupon the mass of pilgrims
fell npon the troops, struck the officers,
and maltreated the soldiers. When the
District Superintendent appeared and
was about to interfere he did not come
off much better.
A Scho-I for all.
When I look npon the tombs of the
f;at, every emotion of envy dies ; when
read the epitaphs of the beautiful,
everyinordinate desire forsakes mejwhen
I meet with the grief of parents upon a
tombstone, my heart melts with com
passion ; when I see tne tombs of the
parents themselves, I reflect how vain
it is to grieve for those whom we must
quickly follow ; when I see kings lying
beside those who deposed them, when 1
behold rival wits placed aide by side,
or the holy men who divided the world
with tbeir contests and disputes, i re
flect with sorrow and astonishment on
the frivolous competitions, factions,
and debates of mankind.
Youths' Column.
A swIh Baby's Lallaby.
Slepp, bit imTunjt ! Clrwe thine ryea
In una t AY-iim partdwe !
S. above 'the, pile of snow,
brvatbe Ih- cover's Moom below ;
W'hfn 1 m Mav-time.
ChiUlm'a piav-tini.
Strong' aud ruddy, oow UiJ grow !
I will hnld thee, aoft tod trw.
Aa the Maj-beU hold toe dew ;
- See. above Uiee awallowa fly ;
Hear the wimpUng brootM aih ;
When 1 is May4ime,
Cblldreu'a play-tune.
That' their beaa tune, ao any I.
To my heart, O. ranirele near ;
That aball bring al-i' aug-1 Here.
He will wafi ftky-dream to tnee.
Lull thee, like the hmuUwlm ;
Sweetly aiuging,
Softly wuiKmK.
Cooling tne uin mj knee.
Soi
thoa rhnttest np thine eyes.
Vtiuir off to eai
1 a ill bear thee soft away.
rauim
Aua in quiet ebamoer lay ;
Wurn 1 i. May-time.
Children's play-time.
That's the best tune ; aleep away
A K.vioirr of thk Leoion o Honor.
He was a quiet, awkward fellow, and
when be hrst came into Deacon Brer s
drug-store the other clerks set npon
him for a "greeny," and played all
manner of sly tricks upon him. They
nad to be careful, tnougn, for tne dea
con was a good friend to Sam ; he nsed
to know his mother when they were
botn children, and went to school cross
lots, down at Cherry Valley. Sam was
a "greeny," to look at. His clothes
were homespun, with a kind of country
cut ; and he had a slow way with him,
as if his thoughts were always wool
gathering.' He brushed np a little, after a while.
and looked more like other folks : but
tho boys kept np their jokes, because
they'd got in the way of it ; though,
bless you ! Sam did n't mind 'em, any
more 'n so many flies ! He kept steady
about his business : and. whenever he
had a snare minute, he would pull a
ragged old book out of one of his
coffee-sacks of pockets, and yon might
fire a torpedo under his nose and never
start him. v
The deacon's store was iust over the
bridge by the cotton factory. Most of
the hands traded there, more or less ;
and it was curious to see, that, while
the other clerks never troubled them
selves to remember the names of any
but the forman, Sam knew every fellow
by name in three weeks, even to old J
lien hpafford. who never could lot hard
cider alone, and got discharged and
taken on again about once a month.
One day, I remember it was October
and the trees below the mill were color
ing splendidly I'd been into the store
after some little notion for my wife, and
stopped by the door to see what the
school-children were in snch an nproar
over. Sam came and stood by me. He
was the only one in the store ; nearly
every one on the street had gone to
dinner, for we are old-fashioned folks
at Warrentown, and eat onr dinners at
noon, which is the sensible time for
dinner, I take it.
Well, what should we see bnt the
whole troop of those little savages tear
ing down the street after uncle Ben's
Joe a poor little half-starved fellow.
that never had seemed quite right in
his head since he had the scarlet fever.
I do n't think they meant to hurt him.
It was just a little rough fun. set on by
that ngly, savage streak, that seems to
be at the bottom r.t so many boys' na
tures, alter all.
But Joe was as frightened as if a
horde of wild Indians were after him.
He ran past the door before we could
stop him, screaming, and looking right
and left, like some hunted animal. Half
the factory hands were at the windows
for the mill was stopped some of
them laughing and cheering the boys,
when, quick as a flash, Joe darted upon
a narrow plank that lay across the mill
race. Whether it was fright at the swift
running water that turned him dizzy,
or whether he had a fit, as he sometimes
did, nobody can say ; but the little
fellow staggered, and threw np his
arms, and, in an instant, I was alone at
the shop-door. In fact, I am sure Sam
mnst have foreseen what was likely to
happen, and started as soon as Joe
turued towards the race. At any rate,
there he was, lying flat npon the edge
of the flume, one arm around a post,
and his cool gray eyes fixed upon the
water. An instant more and he made a
plnnge forward, and brought up little
Joe by the hair of his head. It was as
much as he could manage, bnt he had
him ont before I could reach him.
How the women cheered and waved
their handkerchiefs, and how the men
rushed ont after him, as he carried little
Joe, in his deliberate fashion, up to the
store, where the frightened school-boys
were waiting, with pale faces, to see
what had come of their cruel fun.
"Coward .'" was all he said, as he
walked past them, but it came out with
a sting that made them tremble.
"Can you swim, Sam ?" I asked, as
we two worked over little Joe, and
brought the color back to his white
face.
"No, sir," said Sam, "I'm sorry to
say I ean't."
'What if he had pulled yon in? I
thought for a while he would."
"I do'nt know t" said Sam simply ;
"pe:haMi you would have saved ns
both, Mr. North. But at any rate, there
was no time to measure chances, you
know."
"Good stock I good, brave stock I"
said the deacon, nodding his head, and
flourishing his bandana, as we talked it
over. "He comes of the old Scotch
Covenanters. Why, bless yon 1 I've
seen his mother, wnen she was no higher
than this counter, charge npon a couple
of little wretches to rescue a sick kitten
they were tormenting ; aud Sam, why,
I do n't mind telling you, though it 's a
secret, but he 's wearing his old clothes
and scrimping every way, to help his
youuger brother take drawing-lessons
of the best teachers, because, you see,
the little fellow is a genius, while Sam
is only a good-natnred, plodding fel
low." But I can tell yon, as I told the
deacon, I call Sams something better
than a genius. 1 call him a knight of
the Legion of Honor ?
Thk Rope. Two young, rigged boys
whose names were Guy and J tck, found
an old rope lving in the ro td, over the
possession of which they disputed long
and loud. Ony snatched oue end and
Jack the other, and both pulled with
all their force to get it. Suddenly the
rope broke and both fell backward down
into the mud, presenting a pitiable
appearance.
A passer-by said to them, at this very
moment. "Behold what happens to
qnarrellers I Eor the most worthless
trifle they become angry at each other ;
and what then results? They cover
themselves with ridicule and shame
before the eyes of everybody, just as
you now stand before me covered with
mad and dirt."
"Study to keep the peace ; for discord
always brings evil in its train.
aru-ties.
Why is a sword like beer ? Bdcau
it is of no nse till it is drawn.
Richard Grant White is said to be
the tallest writer in America.
What length ought a lady's petticoat
to be ? A little above the feet.
I had rather have newspapers with
out government than a goverment with
out newspapers. Jtfftnon.
It is a remarkable peculiarity with
debts that their expanding power con
tinues to increase as vou contract them.
Chicago dogs are great epicures.
They won't eat beef when they can get
live babies. This fastidiousness seri
ously affects the growth of population.
Skepticism has never founded em
pires, established principalities, or
changed the world's heart. The great
doers in history have always been men
of faith.
They who in their age approve of the
career of tbeir youth, have generally
had the wisdom of age in their youth,
and have generally the vivacity of youth
in their age.
Quiet confidence in God is the only
way to obtain deliverance fromdarkneas.
They who in times of distress forsake
the mercy-seat, and rely on their own
devices must "lie down in sorrow."
A will is registered in Waynesbnrg,
Pennsylvania, which contains the fol
lowing remarkable clause : "I also give
to my beloved wifo one red cow. one
three-year-old colt, and the remainder
of the kitchen and household furniture."
A Cincinnati seamstress uses a gray
squirrel as a motive power for running
her machine, and well he docs his work,
not only sewing straight seams, but
hemming and gathering a rattle as neatly
a could De done by numan bands.
Pasigraphy, a method of writing re
cently adopted in some parts of Europe,
is abont to be introduced into this
country. Instead of words figures are
nsed m this svstem. Thns: 2.sJ7.
3iV, 7lW, 24IM, l.--,, isa-,, 1112, 7r,
17-2H, 5.11, 1153, 7i, 4itt, 3-Mi, 2ol.
U. lranslated into iazlish. this
reads: "Dear Sir: When you call here.
I have some small books for vou. Yours
trnly, Samnel Birch."
Ladies who imagine themselves mnr-
trys to tyrannical husbands should pity
their sisters in India. Among other
restrictions, the Hindoo Bible forbids a
woman to see dancing, hear music, wear
jewels, blacken her eyes, eat dainty
food, sit at a window, or view herself iu
a mirror dnring the absence of her hus
band ; and it allows him to divorce her
if she injures his property, scolds him.
quarrels with another woman (think of
tnat !) or presumes to eat before he has
finished his meal.
The smallest and oldest State in
Europe is San Mario, a Republic iu
Northeastern, Italy. Its area is twenty
fonr square miles, but little more thau
double that of the District of Columbia.
Its population is about 10,(. It was
settled in 4t7J by Marinns, a Delmatinn
hermit, who established a community
whose independence has remained uu
distnrbed through all subseqnen changes
in Europe. It is snrronnded by former
provinces of the Pope, and its insigni
ficance has hitherto shielded it from all
aggressions. Popes and dukes, French
viceroys and Austrian niarshalls have
alke respected its integrity.
European florists force plants for com
mercial purposes much more than ours
do. Last year there were mtny mora
thousands of the lily-of the- valley forced
than the year before. With the Freuch
gardeners mnch attention is given to
forcing the lilac. Houses are also bnilt
without glass, as the forcing is done in
the dark in order that the flowers may
be white. Plants thus forced are a long
while in recovering, and in gardens,
where space is valuable, it will hardly
pay to try to resuscitate them. Hence
garden plants that are forced into bloom
for sale in the market, and by peddlars,
are nearly useless to the purchasers
until they have grown a year.
Some Local Floods Not Soon to be
Forgotten. Some of our readers will
be reminded by the Leeds reservoir
calamity of the breakimr away of the
railroad embankment at North Benning
ton, some twenty years ago, by which a
considerable portion of the viilitge wait
flooded, several houses carried away
and many lives greatly endangered, and
some, we believe, lost. Itiere was a
terrible panie in the village for several
hours. Of course, it did not begin to
reach the magnitude of the Leed
disaster, bnt we are assured it was suffi
ciently appalling. And so too was it
when five or six years ago, in the time
of a freshet the reservoir on the moun
tains several miles above Bennington
burst and the flood came tearing
through the village, undermining many
houses and destroying several Uvea.
The elephant at the Zoological
Gardens, Dublin, innocently got his
keeper into trouble recently. Staff Sur
geon Lnckle, who had been in the
Ashantee war, dropped in the gardens
a ring, taken among the African spoils.
The elephant saw the ring drop, put
forth his trunk, and picked it np. Being
in the habit of giving to his keeper coins
and "other indigestible presents made
to him by admiring spectators, he gave
the ring to his keeper. So far the
keeper was safe the elephant was the
unconscious thief. But the whole trans
action was seen by others ; and the
keeper being taxed with having the ring
in his possession, said he knew nothing
about it. He was then observed to
throw something away, which was found
to be the ring. He was fined twenty
shillings. The elephant appropriated
other people's good. The keeper was
tne receiver.
An audacious trick, says the Court
Journal, was lately played by a "sneak
to lei at a ljondon club, lie entered
the hall without attracting the notice
ot the porter, and proceeded to empty
the pockets of the great-coats he fonnd
ranged in a corridor. While selecting
a few of the best, he was interrupted
by a member, who, in astonishment,
asked him what he was doing. "Oh,
this is my regular bnsiness," he said.
'I am employed to clean the gentle
men's coats in several clubs. I take all
the grease ont of their collars." "In
deed," said the gentleman, interested,
thinking he had got hold of one he
could turn to account. "How long do
you take? "Why, I will be back with
these in an hour." "If so, you may as
well take mine," said the master, adding
his coat to the heap, and escorting the
"sneak thief" past the porter. "What
great conveniences you have in London!'
remarked this country gentleman to a
rtoud of his friends. "I have iust
given my eoat to a man I fonnd in the
corridor, who cleans coats for the club."
"To whom do you say ? cried two or
three. "The man I fonnd carrying the
coats ont. Wait I have his card.
Bnt the knowing ones did not wait ;
they harried ont to find the pockets of
some great-coats empty, and other coats
altogether gone.