B. F. SCHWEIER, IHB CONSTITUTION THE UNION AND TUB ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. VOL. XXVIII. MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., NOVEMBER IS, 1S74. ft n I 51 1 I"?llV I ML (UI S STKtTtliLH -A TIRK IMI TALK. A pious widow's cottage chanced to stand Hard by tue alif x palace; and he sought i or but ou uw, to buy her bit of land: tint all iu vaiu Uie land could not be bought! "It wan my husband's home." the woman said: Who, dy.ni,'. left it to hiH loving wife; Here will I dwrll. in honor of the dead: Nor with it part until I part with life !"' The haughty Calif n auger knew no bound. That thiu the dame withstood him to bin fae; I'.y force be razed her cottage to the ground: And built a grand pavilion in its place. Straight to the ( wit, then, the widow goes. And axks for juatice at bid honor's baud; 'T-eave me awhile," the Cadi said, and rone; "Allah m preat, and hears your just de mand !" Then, with au empty sack, be took bin way To the pavilion: where be chanced to meet The I if at the door. H i reat Sire ! I pray A little of the earth beueath your feet. Kiiough to till." the ' said, "this m-L "Ta granted!" said the Calif, laughing loud, "Now. please toput the load iin my back: Moat potent Prince!" and reverently bowed. Nay," naid the Calif, honld surely fail Should I essay to hft a load so great; For such a task my strength would not avail : A porter would be crushed beneath the weight ':" "Prince of believers!" said the Ca-ti, then; "If this.be even sobow wilt thou fare In the great day of final judgment when The weight of all thi lan-1 thou hat bear!-" to The Calif, stricken with remorse, exclaimed, "Allah is Allah ! be his name adored ! For wit and wisdom, thou art justly famed; This day shall see the widow's land restored. And. for the wrong I did tbe woman's land. In tearing ddwn her house, I thus atone; This fine pavilion in its place shall stand: For, with the soil, the building is her own !" 3 1 i j c? 1 1 a n v. In Antwer to at teller. Br a. grto. Some one down in Alabama wrote me tbe other day, and wanted to know why I didn't write like Victor Hugo, or W ilkie Collins, or Dumas, or somelndy else. Thai's it, why don't IT Now that it has been sug gested to me, I guess 1 w ill. Here goes : THE VRTOB HI'Ci) STYLE. It was night ! It was a dark night ! The wind sighed ! The rain Ml drearily ! A cloaked figure skulked across the prcat square ! It was that of a man ! It was De Land ! lia! ha! ha! Several more ba's! Iu bis right baud he clutched a dugtrer ! In bis left a phial of poison ! His eyes shone like coals! He gnashed his teeth ! He as iu-ane !!!!!! THE WILKIE COLLINS STYLE. Mr. Bostwick sighed heavily as he rne V... t . Mi, mental ..(.!.. had been .' calmed by h,s profunday of .bought, but : the carallel was shattered by the ghiuiuii-r , ". ot a moonbeam sliding silently across the floor of the deserted hall. The dreamy, in- active life which he bad led for the ,,a-t several year-, bad enfeebled his mind, nuiil its impairment was observable to any alien-1 live observer. The prospective palliation , of his uniutentioual offense against progres- ( vive principles, was shadow slight. j Till ill MAS STYLE. "S'death I" Alfonso leaped tbe garden wall and stood under the fair Isadores latiiced window. Lurking tinder a willow tree, not far away, was his implacable enemy, the Span iard, who had been watching for him. Isadore! Isadore, t by lover is below! Speak to me, dearest one, even if but one word!" He heard the window gently raised, and as he strained his eyes for a sight of Isi dore's fair face, the shadow moved nearer and nearer, until it was close behind him. -Is that thou, Alfonso?" whispered the angel girl, from the window. Dearest of angels, it is it is !" he re j.licL At that moment the Spaniard thrust with bis dagger, and the keen steel pierced Al fonso's heart. He fell to the ground, with tbe name of Isadore on his lips. She fell from the window and broke her neck, and a stroke of lightning killed the Spaniard in liis ttacks. . They buried the threw-rn one grave. THE BATAf-D TATXOa STYLE. Yes, sir, I am Bayard Taylor, sir. Yes, sir, Bayard Taylor has traveled, sir. Yes. sir. Bayard Taylor is the greatest of American travelers. "lie has been further, seen more, heard of more, written more. and been heard of more, than any other American out of his grave, and yet he is only in the prime of life. There's Vi ashing tnn, sir, and Hancock, sir, and General Jackson, sir, and Henry Clay and Daniel Webster, sir all good fellows enough, but none of them a Bayard Taylor, sir. America is a great country, as you say, sir; but who made America I Who prevents a collapse ! I da, sir Bayard Taylor, sir. THE GEORGE TBASCIS TBAIX STYLE. Whoop ! I'm Train! Forty thousand miles in forty days ! Bound for the White House in lfeTG ! Own half of the real estate in Omaha, and the press of America can be bought for fire dollars! '.., , Bastiled in England, jailed in Ireland, kicked ont of Scotland, and declared insane iu America! , Sever say die tip, boys, and at em Train and equal rights for all ! If the Alabamian wants to contract for his winter's supply of any of these styles he can secure ten per cent, off of regular rates by ail dressing me any time this month. A True Jinn. Show us the young man who can quit the society of the young and take pleas ure in listening to the kindly voice of age ; show ns a man who is ever ready to pity and help the deformed ; show ns a man who covers the faults of others with a mantle of charity ; show us a man who bows as politely and gives the street as freely to the poor sewing-girl as the millionaire ; who values virtue, not clothes; who shuus the company of such as gather at public places to gaze at the fair sex. or make unkind remarks of the passing girl ; show us man who abhors a libertino ; who scorns the ridicule of his mother's sex, and the exposure of womanly reputation ; show no a man who never forgets for su in stant the delicacy due woman, as a woman, in sny condition or class and you show ns a trne gentleman. AX KKKOR AU IT OXKF- I1 Ltl.K, BT H. T. C. One bright laorning in tbe month of May, Henry Duval, a handsome youth of fifteen entered the house of his guar dian, Monsieur de Ceran, and throwing his school books carelessly Uon the hall table, he rnpidly ascended the stairs leading to the library, and with out knocking, opened the door sud denly, and to his surprise fonnd himself not only in the presence of Monsieur de Ceran, but in that of a woman of rare beauty, whose noble and lovely face was suffused with tears. On seeing the lad the lady uttered a half-smothered exclamation and was about to rise, but at a quick glaLce from De Ceran, she sank upon her seat, covering her face with her hands. Henri glanced inquiringly at his guar dian. "Henri," questioned De Ceran, with confusion, "why did you enter this room without permission?" "My friend,' replied tbe boy frankly, "never until now have you forbid me so doing?" "Oh, monsieur," e x.-laiineJ the lady, in a voice f nil of entreaty, "have pity !' "Not another word, madame," inter rupted Do Orau. "I forbid you to speak," he added, and rising quickly he grasped her arm, as though dreading Uie words sue might utter. "I will obey vou," she murmured. "Moreover, madame," continued the lawyer, with evident control, "an ex plauation is impossible to-day. I have already told you that important busi ness demands my immediate attention. "For the last ten years," replied the stranger, bitterly, "1 have asked in vain for an interview, but vou have been deaf to my prayers. You have even forbidden the approach of your home. Through submission to vour wishes I have hoped to obtain mercy, but it is useless, for you have remained inexorable. To-day, Monsieur, I do not come to petition, but to insist on your listening to me." At the age of twenty-five Octave de Ceran had been one of the most bril liant as well as most courted young man in Paris. At that time he had a brother Henri de Ceran, to whom he was ten derly attached. The love of Octave de Ceran for Mile. Eugenie de Benaville, the rich heiress of a noble house, was generally known to his friends. Also, that this unit had been declined by the family of Eugenie, who had other views for their daughter. When a happier rival became the husband of Mile, de Benaville, the despair of Octave was so intense that his life was endangered. By th advice of the attending physi cian, Henri removed with his brother to an estate they possessed near Paris. Grief is not eternal. De Ceran, wearied of solitude and useless regrets, at length returned to Paris. Nothing remained of hi nnfortnnate passion but a quiet melancholy. Soon, how ever, happiness was restored to him by a young and lovely woman, also named Eugenie. Her gentle sympathy, musi cal voice, tenderness and loveliness soon healed the wounds that had been inflicted, sud iu the rich, full love of Eugenie Dtstanges, Mile, de Benaville was forgotten. One year alter his msrriage Octave was blessed with the promise that a child would soon strengthen the bond ' which already bound him so wholly to i his young and beautiful wife. In the ; midst of his happiness a sudden decline threatened the lile of his lieloved t ! I)1)Vsi(,iaas aft(.r long nnmw.nii n.ull.ili..iui, frankly , i-i j acknowledged that they did uot nuder- . , . " ., f ,-, j:HaJt, anJ stan1 t he nature ol tlie Uineasf. and prescribed change of air. 1'lncing Eugenie under the care of his mother, Octave de Ceran left Pans with , his brother, who, after one brief month of constantsiifle.riugauddehit,ion,breitthed his last On the night of Henri s death Mon sieur de Ceran had remained alone with him. It had been observed that during the last eight days of his brother's life Octave declined all assistance. His grief, moreover, though intense, found no utterance in words, and no tears stained his pule checks, or moittened his troubled eyes. As soon as Henri was dead, Monsieur de Ceran, much to the surprise of every one, scarcely had issued orders for the burial, ere he started for Paris, appar ently in a state of indifference. From that hour a profound mystery vailed Octave's life. Two or three days after his return to Paris he left for Italy, accompanied by Mine, de Ceran, and for seven long years no tidings were received. Time passed. At length the parents of Mme. de Ceran died, and De Ceran alone returned to Paris, pale, sad and dejected, while his manner ever re pelled those who would have questioned the wuereaoonts oi ins wne. The general supposition was that Eugenie was dead, but at the same time there existed a mystery that all attempts at solution were finally abandoned. Having retired to his estate, some six leagues distant from the capital, he devoted himself to the education of s little boy of eight years, whom he called Henri. After a lapse of some years, Monsieur de Ceran removed to Paris with little Henri, then a lad of about fifteen years of sge. All that Henri knew respecting his family was that he was born in Italy ; of his childhood he had a confused recollection and remem bered no parents. At a tender age he had been placed at school. This was his earliest and most vivid recollection. After several years of isolated life, Monsieur de Ueran, whom he then saw for the first time, had come to claim him and take him to France. The tender solicitude evinced for him had "Forgive me, forgive me, my Henri, for I am so unhappy," he would mur mur, clasping the lad to his heart. 'Oh, why are yon not ray son ?' he would often add with a wild burst of sorrow. Thus had Henri Duval's life passed audits fitful fever had taught, even while still s child, the deep meaning and cruel pain the portion of mortal existence. The scene which had just transpired before his eyes had aroused his sensitiveness, and he yearned for the sight of the stranger, whose eyes had lingered so tenderly in their wistful gaze. , During eight days which elapsed after the meeting Henri was quiet and thoughtful, and De Ceran watched him anxiously, for he saw that the soul of the boy had awakened to new life, and that the honr was not far distant when Henri wonld come to him and say, "Now that you have given me educa tion, have pointed out a path for future, I must go out into the world, but 1 must first know what claim I have to the name 1 lear, I must know who was my mother?" What answer should he give? On the dav on which the scene al given the boy new life ; but Henri often saw that De Ceran was anxiously pre occupied, and it was evident that some titx1 V great affliction had left ita impress npou his souL At times his suffering ap peared great, and he wonld order the boy from his presence with inexplicable harshness, evincing almost hatred. Such display of feeling ever awakened the deepest grief in Henri, which quickly recalled De Ceran to himself, ready mentioned bad transpired, Henri retired to his room. Monsieur de Ceran had given him a Oreek transla tion to accomplish, which would occupy some hours. The boy seated himself to the task, but his brain was burning hot and his ideas confused. At length, discouraged and weary, he determined to resign the task ; but on attempting to leave his room he found the door locked. The hot blood Hushed his cheek, and his spirit replied at the restraint placed upon his movements. Angrily he shook the door, which sud denly yielded to his touch. Rushing uown stairs, uenri ran into the open air ; it was evening, and the stars shone clear in the heavens. A feeling of re- gret for the anger he had displayed urged the boy to return to his room ; this he was about to do, when suddenly ue stopped, t or one moment he fan cied himself the mere plaything of a vision, but the next instant he saw that it was no fancy, and that a woman at the extreme end of the path was wend ing her way toward a pavilion which he himself had never entered. Impelled by one of those irresistible desires which do not allow time for thought, he followed the stranger and saw her enter the pavilion. With stealthy foot steps he approached a partially open window, where he could both see and hear all that transpired. A single lamp burned dimly within. Near a table Monsieur de Ceran was seated, and directly in front of him stood the shadow which Henri had fol lowed the sad and beautiful face which had haunted tbe boy's thoughts. Mon sieur de Ceran was speaking, and Heuri listened eagerly. "Madame," said De Ceran, "you have desired an explanation. Need I say it is useless ? You have written me that I tmri.l wnnr .riatoncA bnt vou, what have you done with mine? Would you revive in my soul the remembrance of sorrows which onriit to have killed and which time simply weakens without destroying ?' "Be merciful," murmured the woman, in a scarcely articulate voice. "Do you wish to kindle thst hatred which ought to have been buried in grave ?" continued De Ceran. "May God forgive you," replied his listerer, "for you are unmerciful and cruel." "No, madame," resumed Monsieur de Ceran, "no, I am less cruel than you have been, less unrelenting. Listen to me. You destroyed my happiness when I surrounded you with love ; you brought dishonor upon my name when I knelt to you in the wildest worship, the most passionate love ; you deceived me when I placed all confidence in your virtue. I have suffered too much to forgive you madame. I have loved yon too dearly." "I do not ask for your forgiveness, I only ask for justice." The words were uttered proudly. 'I, whom you have so cruelly wronged, seek not for revenge. I alone despise you, yet there have been hours in my life when the thirst for revenge has been great. Alone in this room with yon, the thoughts of the past crowd wildly upon me, I again see Henri dying. I hear him calling upon you in his raving, and again he reveals to me your husband, his brother, your love." As he spoke, De Ceran arose, his eyes gleamed with a fierce light, and his breath came hot and fast through his parted lips. 'My Ood I have pity upon me,' ex claimed his listener. 'It is false I swear that it is false,' she added, rais ing her eyes with a ilrm, full gaze. 'Ton believe me mad, then,' con tinned De Ceran, that I should credit the words of a dying man in preference to your own ? Again, I tell you, bis words are burned into my memory, buried in my heart, which they have broken. In one brief honr I lost all, and, in a moment of rage, of despair, I could have killed him with my own hand, but I remembered that he was my brother, and through days of tor ture I stood beside him. When death's hand had chilled him I came to you. You were about to become a mother. Out of the great love I bad once felt for you I found room to pity you. I separated you from your friends. I took you to Italy ; there I had courage to wait, and it was only when your son, whom you dared to call by the name of Henri, no longer needed you, that I told yon all told you that I despised you." "And then, as now, I told yon I am innocent 1 I knelt at yonr feet, clung to you, but you were deaf to my words. You have east me from you ; you have condemned without hearing what I have to say in my own defence." y, V. 'i , T 1 zrz:Trzz--rrzij-l 'Speak then, if you will responded De Ceran, fiercely. 'I was not guilty,' continued the woman, 'and yet I have been forced to hide myself under an assumed name, tears my only refuge. For six long years I wandered around the house where my son dwelt to catch a passing glimpse of his dear face. At length yon learned that this one joy remained to me, and in your blind and willful bate you robbed me of that Tou took my child from the school. I followed you until yon reached Paris. Unseen I have watched over my boy. Octave de Ceran you have deprived me of his love, you nave denied me bis caresses. ; and yet you have never called him your ! son. vou have never Broken to him of his mother. 'Never 1' was the firm response. 'And yet he is vour son I At this moment cry was heard with out the pavilion. "Mother ! mother ! j exclaimed Henri, as pale sud trembling he entered the room and threw his arms : aronaJ the tremblmg woman whose Toice nXd oulv faiutlv murmur the words : "My sou 1" as she clasped him to her breast. "Father I" exclaimed Henri, as he gently extricated himself from her em brace, "my mother, oh 1 give her back to me !" "Octave," responded Mine, de Ceran feebly, "through vour sou the voice of Heaven speaks. Hear me when I re peat that i am innocent 1" Monsieur de Ceran stood pale and trembling. Before him kuelt the woman he had so loved, and beside her the son he had refused to acknowledge. Overcome by the violence of his emo tion, De Ceran leaned for support against tbe paneling near which he stood ; suddenly it yielded to the pres sure of his body, and tnrning, he per ceived through the opening a package of papers carefully sealed. At a glance he recognized the hand writing of his brother. Seizing the package. Monsieur de Ceran glanced i towara tne moiner ana ner son : wis the. bethought was the proof of her ff?llt- Thf eyes of Henri were upon j aim. With shudder he advanced to- i wara nKnl. na Mtendea ms nana j to burn the fatal papers. In an instant Eugenie was beside him. "Those papers !" she exclaimed, "are ' my last hope. Bead them, I implore you. "It is your wish?"" inquired De Ceran. "It is." As she spoke he broke the seal The package contained papers and a por trait. Te portrait was that of Eugenie de Benaville. The letters were signed Eugenie de Benaville. AU was clear. The error alone lay in the name, and Eugenie de Ceran, the pure, the honest wife and mother, had for fifteen long years, suffered lor the enme of another. "Father 1" exclaimed Henri. "My son !" responded De Ceran. .Leading his father to the mother who had suffered so bitterly, Henri de Ceran left him kneeling at her feet, and closed the door upon their happy reconciliation. A M tfFew Wwrds. "Waiter?" "Sir I" replied the waiter. "Waiter, I am a man of few words, and I don't like to be continually ring ing the bell and disturbing the house ; I'd thank you to pay attention to what I say, and to remember that although there are three ways of doing things, I only like one way in those who have subordinate stations and minds. In the first place, bring me a glass of brandy and (cold), water a little sugar, and also teaspoon ; wipe down this table, throw some coals on the fire, and sweep down the hearth; bring me in a couple of candles, pen, ink, and paper, some wafers and a little sealing wax ; tell the hostler to take care of my horse, dress him well, stop his feet and let me know when he is ready to feed ; order the chambermaid to prepare me good bed, take care that the sheets are well aired, and glass of water in the room ; send the boots with a pair of slippers that I can walk to the stable in ; tell him I must have my boots cleaned and brought into the room to night, and that I shall want to be called at 0 o' clock in the morning ; ask yonr mistress what I can have for supper ; tell her I should like a roast duck, or something of that sort; desire yonr master to step in, I want to ask him a few questions ; send me the directory ; change this $5 worth of stamps into bills, none of them worn ; when does tbe mail arrive with the letters, and what time before midnight does the mail leave ? just tell me whst time it is by the clock on the landing, and leave the room." This portrait ia from life. Mrs. Partington declares that she does not wish to vote, aa ahe fears she couldn't stand the shock of the elec trical franchise. main sxhibition builping. irq,' THE CKXTEXXIAL OF The Msiat Exhibitiaa Baildiatg. See llltutralion. GENERAL IESIGS. This immense structure, which will form the great centre of attraction dur- in 187G, is located immediately east i of the intersection of Belmont and Elm Avenues, on the great Lausdowne l'la- team It will stand 170 feet baek from i the north side of Elm Avenue, the area j between the building and the Avenue 1 : beiug used for special products, which j may he exhibited in the open air. ' There w ill also be a space 300 feet in ' width between the building aud the Art flallery on the north side, which will lie ornamentally treated as grouud for special puqioses. ine uuiuunr is iu t.ie lorm ot a Darallcloirraui. exteuilimr ensl ini.l uvd ! 1,C8.S feet in length, and north ami; Private offices for the various Foreign south 4C4 feet in width. ,! state Commissions are introduced The larger portion of the structure is . upon the "round Moor and iu the second one story in height, and shows the ; story ou either side of the Maiu F.n maiu cornice ution the outside at A ! trances. Thev are arranged in such a ! Innl .lf. , 1 . . a . . . 1 !i..t.. mi mane iuc iuuiiU) lilt; luiri IIJI height being 70 feel. At the centre of the longer sides are projections 410 feet in length, and in the centre of the ! shorter sides or ends of the buildins are projections 21tJ feet in length. In these , projections, iu the centre of the four! sides, are located the main entrances, ! which are provided with arcades up-u plete provision ling made for protec the ground floor, aud central facades lion against fire. extending to t.ie height of W feet. I Colni)iete Sanitary arrangements, The East Eutrance will form the easy of access, w ill be located at six principal approach for carriages. The , different points. South Eutrauce will be the principal. The arrangement of protlncts exhibi spproach Irom street cars. i te1 is known M ie l)u:,l System ol The Main Portal on the north side Classification, and will lie applied iu communicates directly wilh the Art j this building as follows : Gallery or Memorial Building, aud the ; Every product exhibited will le cou Main Portal on the west side gives the ' sidered as belonging to one of the lol main passage way to the Machinery lowing ten Departments : and Agricultural Halls. j),.,,,. t. Materials in their un- Upon the corners of the building : wrought condition. Mineral, vege there are four towers 75 feet in j table, and animal, height, and between the towers an.I T)opt. n Materials and Manufac the central projections or entrances, ; tures? the reMilt of extractive or corn there is a lower roof introduced show-; hjnjn, processes. ing a. cornice at - leei aonve me ground. In order to obtaiu for the building as a whole, the roof, over the central part for 11 feet iinnrp una iuidti mun a iuirn Tim k 1 1 r rounding portion, and four towers, 48 ieet square, rising to 120 feet in height, have been introduced at the corners of the elevated roof. The areas covered are as follows : Cmnnd Floor 7vl.iSl iq. ft 17 W Meoaa " ia projection 3l,Z'xS " " .74 " ia lowrn.... ,! " .14 IS (W GROCND rLAX. The general arrangemcut of the ground plan shows a central aveuue or ; nave 120 feet in width, and extending I uu .-uui..H 1,640 feet in length. On either side:'? 'or e ""K,T. ,V. .!.:.. j i,,a r ... ot this nave there is an avenue 100 tuet by 1,640 feet in length. Between the nave and side avenues are aisles 48 feet wide, and ou the outer sides of the building smaller aisles 24 feet iu width. v i . i i -i . i .i r In onler to break the great length of the roof lines, three cros avenues or transepts have been introduced, viz., a central transept 120 feet in width by 416 feet in length, with oue oa either side of 100 feet by 416 feet, and aisles between of 48 ieet. The main promenades through the nave and central transept, are each 30 feet in width, and those through the centre of the side'avennes and transepts , 15 feet each. All other walks are 100 either end. t. e it .11 - .i :. ..: The following table gives the pnuci- , ,. .i . jr . , , . UIU1CU31UIU VI Ulll CI I 111 I the building DIMENSIONS. Measurement taken from centre to centre of supporting columns. La(t of Balldlaf Wiau of BailJiaf Cealral Avaaaoor 5lai Lat WiaU He l hi le to of appurttaff ouImim. . Height to nd of root Oatral Traaaepc Lracta wwu Height to top of cvtaaaa-. Met-tit lo flog, of root... ..1 Irri. .. 4 - ..!' .. I3 " .. 4t " 41 13 44 To 140 I0U 4A ai 4i Sid Avoaaoa. Loagta wwfta Height to top of colaaMa Height lo rutg of roof Side TraaMpu, LemU.M .awiaHaawaav t t waan M A I 1 a Width Height to lup uf column Height to r)l(f of roof Oatral AUIn. Length at aat ead -' at wm( aa WlJth Hrlilbt to roof bids Ainls. Length at eatt ad " at went nd Width I1ubt to roof Centre Spars or Pavilkm. Gfunnil Plaa Height to tip of npportlDK' columns.. Height to ridire ot roof Towers over Courts. Gronid Plaa Height to roof .' ., Coraer Towers. Urinid Pisa Height to not..... Iii 4.1 . 4S 4.'.2 STJ , 21 , 24 . 4 1JU MATERIAL. The foundations consi.-t of piers of j masonry. The superstructure is composed of : wrought iron columns which support i wrought irou roof trusses. INTERIOR ARRANGEMENT. ; manna. f 1 . t ..nil lmniuumn mm . . iai ir..ii.r.iu iiiuf have its office iu close proximity to its ! own exhibited products. Buffets or Restaurants for light refreshments are introduced at four j prominent points. Water will lie supplied freely- through- j out the entire bitililius, the inost roiii- I Tv.... Trr t i tr.t.-.. ! brics. Apparel, costumes and orna a central feature i mcnt for il.n ,x Jy Fnrn;ture anJ nlaufac. lureg . cra, use ia roniltructioll BIHi in dwellings. Dept. V. Tools, Implements, Ma chines and Processes. Dept. VI. Motors and Transpor tation. Dept. VII. Apparatus and methods for the increase and diffusion of knowl edge. Dept. VIII. Engiuceriug, Public! Works, Architecture. j Dept. IX. Plastic aud Graphic' Arts. Dept. X. Objects illustrating ef- . ... . - . p.t. IM. ; sieai, inieiiet'tuai auu jiurui vouuiuuu ; . . J 01 "Uan- j Iq " nwiu Fxhibitiou Building ; will be l.icated portions of all the above Departments except No. VI., which will be placed in the Machinery Flail, and No. IX. to which the Art " . . , , r7 p.m.y u.u. The departments will be arranged in parallel zones lengthwise of the Build ing, the zones being of different widths, according to the bulk of the products exhibited in the particnlar department. The Countries and States exhibiting will be arranged in parallel zones cross wise of the Building, these zones also being of different widths, according to the amount ot space required for the i exhibits of each country. Between ecn Department and each Country will be passage ways distinctly mark- . " j j ing the limit of each. The result will be that any visitor or student desiring to compare products of the same kind from different parts of the world, may do so by passing through the Building lengthwise, keep ing in the zoue devoted to the particu lar Department, or any one desiring to examine only the products exhibited by any particular Country or State may do so by passing through the Building crosswise, in the zone devoted to the particular Country or State. The Eugiueers and Architects of the structure are Messrs. Henry, Consult ing Engineer U. S. Centennial Com mission, aud Jo. M. M itoo, Civil Engineer. - Sevea Jful. In tbe discovery of metala men first asser ted their mastery over nature ; yet the dis covery is still progressing. Before the fif teenth century only seven were positively known. They were each held sacred, among tbe ancients, to some ruling deity, tiold indestructible, malleable, the richest in color ing, tbe most precious of decoration was consecrated to Jupiter, or tbe sun, and had already assumed the supremacy which it has nerer lost. It was coined into tbe heavy dairies of Persia and the aureus of imperial Rome. It was used to gild temples and statues, was wrought into rich jewelry, and woven in delicate threads that enlivened the flowered stuff of Bahvlon. Gold mines and gold-bearing streams were found in Arabia, tTria, Ureeoe, Italy, and pain and the pursuit of the precious metal was carried on with varied success by count less throngs of miners. The richest mines, at least in later ages, were those of pain ; and the enormous productiveness of the Spanish soil was slowly exhausted by the successive labors of the Carthaginians and tbe Romans. So successful was their industry hat but little gold or silver can now be fouud in a territory where tbe precious metal onre lay scattered in boundless profusion on tbe surface of the earth. Silver ranked next to gold, and was named from the soft light of Ine moon. The richest silver mines were those of Spain. It was wrought into cups, vases, lamps; adorned the helmets and shields of warriors; and formed the costly mirrors with which the Roman ladies shocked the austerity of Lactantius and Jerome. The beautiful silver coins of the Ureek and Roman cities fill modern collections. Five other metals iron, copper, mercury, lead, and tin were em ployed by the ancients for various purposes: I bey made steel by a rude process, and brass without discovering tine. For many ages no addition was made lo the sacred seven. Three thousand years passed away before it was suspected that tbe number could be increased a memorable example of tbe slowness of human apprehen sion. At length, in 14'D, antimony was added to the metallic family ; and not far off from the period of the discovery of a new world, the chemists were about to enter upon fresh fields of science less boundless or inviting. A second melal, bismuth, came in almost with the Reformation. Zinc, perhaps tbe most important of the sew family, may have preceded the others, it was certainly des cribed long before. It is, indeed, quite curious to notice how tbe bright metal had been constantly forcing itself upon the atten tion of careful observers, and had yet been wholly overlooked ; had been nsed by the ancients, in the form of an earth, to color copper into brass, and give it a shining sur face like gold ; was seen dropping from the furnaces of the Middle Ages, or melted in rich flakes from their walla. Two magicians, or philosophers, at last detected the error of ages ; and Albertos Magnus and Paracelsus, probably both dis covered that line was as indestructible and as free from foreign substances as gold. It seemed a pure element. Paracelsus, who was fond of penetrating to the source of things admit thai he could not tell how the bright metal grew ; nor in the height of their magic renown was it ever foreseen that the rare substance the sorcerer's had dis covered would one day shed knowledge, in tongues of fire, from Loudon to Japan. Two centuries followed, during which no metallic substance was discovered. Para celsus found no successor; Albertus, almost the first man of science in Europe, was re membered enly aa a sorcerer. It was not nntil 17&, that the vast field of metallic dis covery began to open upon man. Two valuable and well-known metals platinum and nickel among several others, first ap peared about the middle of the eighteenth century. Tbe number of the metals now rapidly enlarged ; galvanism lent its aid to dissolve tbe hardest earths, and at length, in the opening of tbe nineteenth century, a cluster of brilliant discoveries aroused the curiosity of science. Each eminent philosopher seemed to pro duce new metals. Benehus discovered three; Davy, the ParaceUns of his age, is the scientific parent of five potassium, sodium, barium, strontium, calcium. The numbers advanced, until already more than fifty etals, of various importance, have been given to tbe arts. Tbe new experiments in light have added caesium and rubidium ; and limit can now be fixed for the metallic family, which tor so many ages embraced ea!y seven members, the emblems of the rating gods. THe l'a 4f Pie tares. It is hardly possible to measure the influ ence exerted upon a people by its pictures. They go hand in band with it civilisation. Born uf the same inspiration which gives us music and poetry, it is higher in its asthetic culture, just as it ia more complex, subtle and refined in its modes of expression. In the tripartite series, music comes first, poetry aext, and painting last of all. It is the crowning glory of the world's highest culture. Sculpture is but the same idea of beauty expressed ia marble. The rude drawing of the primeval man on the frag ments of bones at Dordogne, and the beauti ful creations of Raphael or Leonardo da Vineci are but mile-atones along the great highway of art. One is as much the expres sion of tbe art-culture of the age aa the other. The love of pictures aad tbe power of appreciating theia are ia direct ratio with the progress of a people ia intelligence and refinement llIltlt!-4. When a young lady gives herself away, ahe naturally loses her self-possession. Do not choose yonr friend by his looks ; handsome shoes often pinch the feet. Science is the trunk of a mighty tree, the roots of which are nuknown, and the branches flourish in the useful arts. He is happy whose circumstances suit his temper ; bnt he is more happy who can suit his temper to any circum stances. China has streets paved with granite blocks laid over three hundred years ago, as good as new. The contractors are dead. Nothing is more precious than time. Never be prodigal of it. As every thread of gold is valuable, so is every minute of time. It is much better to decide a differ ence between enemies than friends ; for one of our friends will certainly become an enemy, and one of our enemies a friend. A man who pretended to have seen a ghost was asked what the ghost said to him. "How should I understand?" replied he. "I am not skilled in any of the dead languages." In these lives of ours, tender little acts do more to bind hearts together than great deeds or heroic words, siuee the first are bke the dear daily bread that none can live without, tbe latter but occasional feasts beautiful aud memorable, but not possible to all. I They have found in Holeonib Valley, I California, a mineralogies! marvel, a mountain of gold bearing quartz, it is twelve miles from Bear Lake, above which it rises 300 feet. The crown of tbe mountain is said to be a mass of gold bearing rock, 3o feet high, list feet wide, and about two miles in length. The assays have yielded $10 a ton. A brother of the Ashantee King Kof fee named Aguasi Boachi, who was taken from Commasse by some Dutch man at the age of nine, brought np in Amsterdam, and afterward sent to the School of Mines at Freiberg, is now a director of mines in the Dutch colony of Batavia. He speaks three or four European languag.ta, is intelligent and fond of study, and generally respected. The first live specimens of the Rus sian fish, the sterlet, having just been brought to England from St. Peters burg. Twelve of them were placed in a large deal tank in St Petersburg, and only three died in the nine days, journey to London. These fish are very handsome and graceful in their movements, and are esteemed a great delicacy in Knssia. They have been placed in the Brighton aiinirium. Among the mountains of Virginia and fonnd many wild hogs, which do not hesitate to attack the traveler, and are without donbt the moat dangerous deu izens of the mountains. They are nsn ally found in herds of from five to twelve, and the sight of a human being is the only signal for attack that they reqaire. The intruder has then noth ing left him bnt to outrun them, or climb a tree and wait for them to leave. Fisherman in some parts of Europe and of this country kill fish with a knife or bludgeon as soon as they are taken from the water, because fish thus killed are found to be better than those which have long gasped and struggled before dying. The Dutch, for example, de stroy life by making a slight longitudi nal incision under the tail with a sharp instrument. Ou the Uliiue they kill salmon by thrusting a steel ueedle into their heads. I'mb may be easily kiLUsI by striking them a qnick, sharp blow with a small stick on the back of the head just behind the eyes, or by taking them by the tail and striking the head qnickly against any hard substance. Two plants have recently been found possessed of useful medicinal qualities. One is a plant of Brazil, named Jabor andi. It has a suJoritic virtue un equalled by any medicament hitherto known. It is very suitable for those maladies which are treated by cutane ous exhalations, such as rheumatism, sciatica, chills, and virulent diseases like smallpox and measles. The second plant is tuberous Ailantus, which is ca pable of checking stubborn diarrh and especially dysentery. It ia the bark of the root which has this virtue in highest degree. This is bruised in a mortar, with a little hot water, and, after sifting, the extract is administered in teaspoonfuls. The aged Swedish poet llnneberg, while sick at Helsingfors in Finland, for several years past has been study ing the habits of birds, and specially with regard to the cause of migratiou. His theory is that the longing for light alone draws the birds southward. When the days shorten in tha north the birds go south, but as soon as ever the long northern nights set in, with all their Inminons and long drawn hours, tbe wanderers return to their old hannta. It is generally supposed that they move southward to get more abundant food ; but why, asks Iinneberg, do they leave their rich hunting grounds to return to the north ? The central regions of En rope are in every way more desirable than tbe waste of Hcandinavia. Duly one thing is richer there, and that is light. About two years ago a bntcher in Ber lin was greatly distressed by the loss of 2,000 thalers, which he had placed in a secret drawer of his desk at home. It was impossible to discover the thief and Payments falling due at tbe time the utcher was uuable to meet his obliga tions on account of the loss of the money, and was forced into bankruptcy. Not long after this the butcher's wife be came insane and was taken to an asylum, where, after remainingeighteen months, she died. After his wife's death the butcher received her clothing from the authorities of the asylum. He found sewed in between the lining of one of her dresses the long-lost sum of money, and in addition some bank notes. Evi dently the woman, who had been very avaricious had taken the money in a moment of aberration and sewed it in her dress. The war of 1870 cost France 171,000, GOO, to which 173,00t),00) may be ad ded as the value of the ceded territory. Of course the cost to the North German Confederation was much less, as their troops operated in the enemy's conntry and the eommissarit was much better managed than with the French. The cost to Germany has been officially stated as X 17,000,000, but when peace was concluded the treasury was empty, and had it not been for the French in demnity a new loan would have been necessary. The 6,000,000 of the Ger man war chest and the 58,000,000 of the war loan must, therefore, have been exhausted. Compared wilh other mod ern wart, the cost of the Franco-German vakr, on the whole, was moderate, inasmuch as private compensation is in cluded seven millions on the German and twenty four millions on tbe French side. i. i i ' 4 Pi f it 5. - is f 1 ft I h it 1 1 7
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers