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.
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