If$is ' jk Siii $3i in" till itit
B. F. SCHWEIER,
THE CeXSTITCTIOS THB CSI05 A5D THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXIX.
MIFFLINTOWN. JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., JANUARY 27, 1S73.
NO. 4.
POETBT.
AX AI TC MSAI. DAT.
A living, pulsing glory fills the world.
And bids me break
My bonds, where slumber banners are nn
furled. And I awake.
Le aubtle wine of goo-glow fills the air.
And o'er the plain
The rising god of glory everywhere
H bowers golden rain.
Across the shades that dancing oak-boughs
fling.
The yellow tide
Crops on, and melts to gold the dusky ring
From its fsr side. .
The lauos leaves of the chestnut fleck the air
With emerald glow;
A thousand quivering Jewels flutter there.
And to and fro.
The haugaty maie, princess of the wood.
Is blushing red.
Because the pine bowed low from where he
stood
Ilia kingly head.
The sombre hemlock, silent and alone.
In garb of woe.
Mourns still for grief it never can atone.
In anguish low.
The slender birches sound their wonted tune.
Light, glad and free;
And send, as always, tides of sweet perfume
Across the lea.
The beeches, hoary, monumental, tall.
Stately and grand.
Laugh while the oak-kings quiver to the fall
Which they withstand.
The dome of God is blue from bound to bound
Unmeasured, vast !
A universe of circling worlds around
All ours at last.
A VIRL's FOREVER.
The mulberry flowers came drooping down
Sweet over the two that stood together,
farting there by the gateway browu.
Still and sad in the soft May weather,
lie held her close for a last, long kiss;
"I'll wait for you, dear.'' he said, forever
No later hour shall be false to this;
For mine is a love that can alter never!'
The mulberry flowers drop down once more
Sweet over the two that stand togetlier;
ISut not the two that stood before.
1'arting sad in the soft May weather !
For the earth has changed its bloom again.
And the love has chauged that would alter
never.
Hut a rear has come and gone since then !
Aud this is the length of a girls forever!'
xisn:i.i.T.
The Teeth aad Ibe strain.
Dr. Norman W. Kingsley read before
the New York Odontological Society,
recently, m paper on "The Teeth and
the Brain," of which the following are
the points he made :
In recognizing an antagonism I can
not bat be impressed with similar
contest going on more or leas fre
quently between the mental and physi
cal development, between the brain
and the body.
Laying aside all cases thai may be
dae to an inherited tendency to follow
or exaggerate some given type, together
with those which are manifestly due to
forces operating only after eruption,
the primary cause, so far as the indi
vidual is concerned, of any general
disturbance of the development of the
permanent teeth, showing itself par
ticularly in their malposition, is directly
traceable to a lesion or innervation of
the trigeminal nerve ; that it is an in
terference more or less prolonged with
one of the prominent functions of that
nerve, and operating at its origin ; that
while if a precocious or stimulated
brain in infancy urges on and crowds
the dental organs in advance of the
growth of the jaws, then a brain of
lareoliter or power wouid be likely to
have associated with it a retarded den
tition, but with abundance of room. I
examined the months of two hundred
inmates of the Asylum for Idiots on
Randall's Island, and I did not find a
single pronounced cae of a V-shaped
dental arch.
There were very few cases of nar
rowed palatine arch, only three or four
of saddle shaped palates, that is of a
palate approximated, in the bicuspid
region. There was very little irregu
larity in the position of the teeth ; very
few teeth were out of line, whatever
that line was, and the malformations
were generally confined to the six front
teeth. There was no more irregularity,
decay, loss of teeth, or neglect than
would be found among the same num
ber of youths taken at random from the
streets. Heoently, while spending a
few weeks in Switzerland, I devoted
some time to the examination of the
dental condition of the Cretans, and in
tbo asylums and hospitals in Paris. I
examined the mouth;of.a large number
of idiots, and the results were in no
way dissimilar to what I found on
Rindall's Island.
I visited one asylum in London, and
there found alarger number of V-shaped
arches than I had seen in other insti
tutions, perhaps about five per cent.,
but I did not see one so pronounced a
case as I have treated iu my private
practice, the patient having a full in
tellectual development. The fact of
seeing a so much larger number of de
formed when visiting the asylum in
London, was less puzzling after I had
learned the fact that nearly all the cases
that I had seen were offspring of the
nobility. No irregularity in the posi
tion of the dental organs is any evi
dence of idiocy in the individual.
Irregularities of the teeth in child
hood indicate more likely precocity
of mental development, and possibly a
more brilliant intellect in the adult. It
does prove a disturbed cerebral condi
tion at some period of the child's his
tory, or, if resnlting from hereditary
taint, shows such a condition in the
progenitors which has originated from
like causes, and unless checked will
become intensified by transmission
under similar surrounding conditions,
and the future history of that family
will be mental degeneracy.
Khow.
The world is crazy for show. There
is not one perhaps in a thousand who
dares fall back on bis real, simple self
for power to get through the world,
rnd exact enjoyment aa he goes along.
There is no end to the apeing, the
mimicry, the false airs, and the super
ficial airs. It requires rare courage,
we admit, to live np to one's enlightened
convictions in these days. Unless yon,
consent to join in the general cheat,
there is no room for you among the
great mob of pretenders. If man de
sires to live within his means, and is
resolute in his purpose not to appear
more than he really is, let him be ap
plauded. There is something fresh and
invigorating in such an example, and
we should honor and uphold such
plan with all the energy in our power.
The Old Actor's Daughter.
"I should be almost inclined to curse
you, Marie, if you did such a thing."
"Curse me 1 Oh, father 1"
There, there, Marie, do not weep. Of
course, I don't mean that. But only
wins, i or many years x nave neia a
regular engagement, and should have
saved money. If you should go to the
manager, aa you propose, and tell him
that we were suffering for food that
your old father was lying sick in this
miserable attic, be would tell you that
I had been improvident that I had
squandered my money, and that now,
in my helplessness, I must suffer the
consequence of my folly."
"Father, you accuse yourself wrong
fully. Ton have reared and educated a
family of three, and for many years
nave cared tenderly for poor mother,
even through all the varied stages of
consumption."
The old actor's daughter sat silent and
thoughtful for a time. She was revolving
in her mind scenes and incidents of
which ber father was entirely ignorant.
Let us describe them.
It was a period of three months previ
ous to the foregoing conversation. The
mother has just been laid in the cold
grave, and Uie father was, as now, una
ble to leave his room. The wolf was
hovering around their door ; and Marie,
timid in action, but brave in heart, had
resolved to assist the parent she loved
so dearly.
It was a bitter winter's evening when
she left her home with the purpose.
The sharp blast cut her to the very
heart as she drew her thin mantle around
her. But she had read in tbs papers
that girls were wanted for the ballet of j
one of the theatres. They were to ap- j
ply at the stage door that morning, but
she had been unable to leave her father's
side at that time. She feared she would
be too late : still she coald but try.
On reaching the stage door her heart
almost failed, but her borne again rose
np before her, and she ventured to ac
cost the doorkeeper.
"Want to see the stage manager.eh ?n
"Yes, sir, if yon please."
"Better wait till to-morrow."
"I tried to come to-day, sir but could
not"
"Indeed ? Oh, here he comes you
can apply to him now."
That functionary happened to be
passing, and hearing the words under
stood their import at once. He turned
a searching looking upon the poor girl,
and was about to pass on. But he
caught sight of her face in the gaslight,
, - ..- .a , 1 1. - -
and said. - -oi oaa-ioomug,u sue is iu
rags. So you want an engagement,
eh?"
"Yes, sir, if you please," replied
Marie.
"To play 'Lady Macbeth, I sup
pose ?"
"No, sir for the ballet."
"Oh ! Ever been on an stage be
fore ?"
"Only as a child, sir."
"Oh, onfy as a child. Do you sing?"
"Yes sir very welL"
"Very well so yon think I might
not. Do you dance ?"
Yes sir. Father was an actor, and he
says I dance very welL"
""Oh 1 then you can come to-morrow
and try it."
"Thank you. 111 come."
"Rehearsal will take place at half
past ten o'clock."
I will be here, sir."
'Bring your props with you."
Poor Marie hesitated, and the
manager observing this, said :
"Oh, perhaps you don't know what I
I mean by props. Well, they are your
feathers, jewels, ribbons, laces, tights,
slippers, gloves, and so on. We only
furnish the body of your dress."
The poor girl hesitated, when the
manager again asked :
"Can't you furnish your own props ?"
"I fear not at first, sir," was the timid
reply.
"Then we don't want you."
The manager turned away, and Marie
staggered toward, the door, half Minded
with grief and disappointment. But
ere she had passed it a gentle hand was
laid upon her shoulder, and a sweet
voice exclaims :
"My dear child, come and see me to
morrow as early as possible. Here is
my address."
Marie viewed the extended card and
turned her eyes toward the speaker.
She was a brilliant creature, and the
poor girl tried to stammer forth a re
ply, but could not She left the theatre,
and took her way homeward. She
could not help thinking of the beauti
ful lady and her magnificent dress
sparkling with jewels. What could she
want with her ?
Even bright pictures of the future
rose before her vision, and thus dulled
the sharpness of her grief at the disap
pointment she had met with. She did
not tell her father what she had done,
or that she had an engagement to meet
one of the great ladies at the theatre.
The next day Marie called at the
place designated, upon the card. Her
visit was a lengthened one ; but when
she emerged from the lady's presence
she looked comparatively happy.
One of the first things Marie did,
after returning home, was to find the
half-finished play, which her father was
writing ; and alone, in her own apart
ment, she passed much time over it
She was also from her home a great
deal, during which time her father
supposed her to be at labor in the
tailoring establishment where she occa
sionally found employment
But if she became cheerful immedi
ately after her first visit to the theatri
cal lady, it was not long before she be
gan to be thoughtful then sad. She
became very pale, and at the time the
conversation between herself and father,
described in the first part of this sketch,
took place, she looked as if she could
endure but little more either of physi
cal or mental exertion.
The father had observed the increas
ing paleness of his child, and it had
caused him much grief. But he had
said nothing of the matter, for he did
not know how he was to remedy it He
had been hopeful, but now had almost
given up to despair.
As evening approached poor Mane
grew still paler ; but she spoke words
of hope and comfort to the father, and
that parent could not but look npon her
in admiration as well as pity.
The hour came when business called
her away. She pressed her marbleold
lips to her father's brow. She held his
hand in herown for a moment, and tear
drops fell upon it Then she said :
"Father, the darkest time is just be
fore the dawn. Cheer np I I will re
turn in fe.w hours, and to-morrow we
will be richer than we are to day. ,
The daughter left that wretched
home. But no sooner had she taken
her departure than the father began to
think of her last words. They were
strange. What could they mean ? What
act did Marie contemplate ?
At first suspicion swept across nis
mind, vague, but gradually assuming
form. But as the thought pressed npon
his brain it began to madden him, and
for hours he tossed npon his bed of
pain, calling for his child praying her
safe return.
Midnight came and passed, and still
Marie came not Several timea had the
old actor resolved to arise and go in
search of her ; but he had not the
strength to do so, and as often would
fall back upon his pillow, groaning in
the agony of his soul.
Daylight came, and still Marie had not
arrived. But just as the sun began to
throw its golden rays over the city, a
carriage was heard to drive np before
the actor's house. He listened. He
heard a footfall npon the stairs, and he
recognized the footstep.
In a moment after Marie burst into
the room. She rushed to her father's
side and throwing her arms around him,
she wept
The old man did the same ; but he
observed that Marie's dress was now of
very rich material, and putting her
away, he contemplated her for a moment
with a mournful expression. Then he
said in a trembling voice : "Marie, my,
only child, your mother was a noble
Christian woman. She would die be
fore knowingly commit a wrong action.
She knows your struggles and tempta
tions, but will she approve of all your
acts"
"God and my sainted mother will
both approve them !" exclaimed the
girl, in so earnest and deep a tone that
it really startled her father ; and as she
spoke she fell on her knees and raised
her hands to Heaven.
"I believe you, Marie," said the
father, "and I trust you will forgive me
for harboring a suspicion for a moment
But tell me what has happened ?"
"I will, father. Bat you must promise
in advance to forgive me for all that I
have done without consulting you."
"I promise you."
"Well, then, I will commence by
reading an article in the morning paper,
which I procured as I came along."
"Does it refer to your affairs?;'
"It explains alL"
"Then, let me hear it"
"Here is the extract father."
"A Docblk TBrcwH. The new
play produced at the theatre last night
proved to be one of the greatest suc
cesses of the season. It name "The
Frozen Heart" is sensational ; the en
tire play abounds in beautiful passages
and start ling situations.
"The Frozen Heart," repeated the old
actor. "Why, that's the title of my un
finished play !"
"Your play was completed by myself.
dear father ; and it was your produc
tion and my Own which was brought
out at the theatre last night, aud with
sueh unlounded success."
The old man was stricken speechless
for a moment, and then the tears started
to his eyes. Bat it was only upon the
examination of the manuscript that he
could convince himself that such was
really the fact
After this point was settled, his
daughter said : "Father, will you hear
more of the article ?
"Yes; read."
"I wiiL Here it is."
"We must admit, however, that the
splendidly effective aud affecting acting
of the debutante did much to insure its
great success. With regard to Marie,
as she is called"
"Marie, Marie," repeated the old
man. "Was it my Marie?"
"Yes, dear father.you own poor child,
Marie, is the one here spoken of. And
if my triumph brings me great joy it is
because I can provide for yon now, and
repay you, to some extent, for the love
and tenderness von have always be
stowed upon me. '
It is not a wonder that father and
daughter both wept But those tears
were of joy and gratitude for the bless
ings bestowed upon them. Who would
snatch those blessings from the old actor
and his child ? Who would poison their
delights and turn their happy home
into a placeof sorrow ? San J-'rancinco
Golden Era.
t at or Thin.
A story is told about Perlet, the well
known Trench actor, whose leanness is
described as "something phenomenal,"
and who therefore naturally desired to
"get some flesh on his bones." A well
known physician advised him to go to
one of the bathing-places in the Pyr
enees. Perlet accordingly asked for
leave of absence from his theatre, and
went off to the prescribed locality,
where be drank and bathed with the
utmost zeal and perseverance. But
neither drinking or bathing seemed to
have any effect on him, and he re
mained just as much of a skeleton as
before.
"Patience!" urged the local doctor,
in reply to his expressions of disap
pointment. "There is nothing like the
water of our springs for making people
fat'"
One day when Terlet was perfectly
soaking himself in a bath in the hope
of an increase of weight, which seemed
in no haste to declare itself, he heard
a colloquy in the bathing cabinet next
his own, between the local Esculapius
and a ladv of enormous obesity.
"Doctor," remarked the lady, "I
am really losing heart and patience."
"Why so ?" inquired the doctor.
"Because, though I have been taking
these waters regularly for two mouths,
I am not one ounce lighter."
"Patience, madam," said the doctor,
in his most jiersuasive tones; "there is
nothing like the water of our springs
for making people thin !"
I'aeleM Worry.
Life has great troubles in store for
all of ns ; and few live to be men and
women without knowing terrible grief.
But fortunately, these intense moments
cannot fill all the years. Time helps
us to forget at least, the sorest of the
pain. To every one would come some
joy but for the little worries that hap
pen with the passing hours cares
about money and the cost of things,
small quarrels, petty jealousies, false
shame, and an awful dread of what
"they" will think if we take a little com
fort, and dress and eat to suit our
selves, and know people we like whether
they are "genteel" or not, and say what
we mean, instead of what is expected.
Worries eat the life away. They
gnaw and bite wrinkles into the face,
and bring gray hairs on the head, and
half the time they are not only abso
lutely needless but absurd. Why in
the name of all that is sensible, can we
not wait until the draught of sorrow is
forced to our lips, and not sup need
lessly at the cup of gall and wormwood ?
If every man could say to himself,
"Small worries shall most certainly not
lengthen my face;" if every woman
could refuse to fret over such trifles as
impudent cooks, and napkins with un
timely holes in them, more of ns would
live out the threescore and ten years
allotted to ns by Heaven, and we should
all certainly be much better company
while we lasted.
Hetty Sfarvia.
When the British and Tories attacked
New London, Connecticut, in 17 , and
set a price on the head of Governor
Griswbld, the latter tied to the town of
L . where his cousin, lire. Marvin,
hid him for some days in a secluded
farm-house. But at length the subtle
foe discovered his retreat, and one
sunny afternoon in May he was routed
from his hid in e- place "bv the tidinirs
that a band of horsemen were approach
ing to capture hiiu.
His onlv chance of escape was to
reach the mouth of a little creek which
emptied itself into the Connecticut
river, just atmve the entrance of the
latter into Long Island Sound. There
lie had a loat stationed, with two faith
ful attendants hidden beneath the htgh
banks of the creek. The distance from
the farm-house to the boat was two
miles by the usual traveled road. But
a little sheep-path across the farmer's
orchards would bring him to the road,
only a mile from the boat ; and save a
quarter's length of his fearful run for
life.
Just where the narrow path from the
orchard opened into the road, Hetty
Marvin sat with her dog Towser, tend
ing the bleaching of the household
linen. The long web of forty yards or
more, which was diligently spun and
woven during tha long winter months
was whitened in May, and thus made
ready for use. The business of bleach
ing was well economized, being usu
ally done by the younger daughters of
the family, who were not old enough to
spin, or strong enough for the heavier
work of the kitchen or the dairy.
The roll of linen was taken by the
farmer or bis stout "help" to a grassy
plat, beside a spring or meadow brook.
There it was thoroughly wetted and
spread npon the green tnrf, to take the
ltest heat of the sun by day aud the dew
at night. The little maiden who tended
it, would sit near it.
Thus sat Hetty Marvin, the young
daughter of Governor Griswold's
cousin, when her hunted friend sprang
Piist her, into the road, to escape from
Lis pursuers. Hetty was a timid child
of nixmt twelve years; yet thoughtful
and wise leyoiid any of her elders.
She was frightened ly the headlong
haste with which the Governor rushed
across the meadow. But she quickly
comprehended the scene, and instantly
quieted her faithful Towser, who,
though a friend of the family guest,
thought it liecoiuing to bark loudl at
his hurried steps.
Her wise forethought arrested the
Governor's notice, and suggested a
scheme to delude his pursuers.
"Hetty," he said, earnestly, "I am dy
ing for my lite; aud unless I can reach
my Imat Ik-fore 1 am overtaken, I am a
lost man. You see the rtad forks here.
lint you must tell those who are chasing
me, that 1 have gone up the road to
catch the mail wagon, w inch will soon
le alone, you know. Then they will
turn oil' the other way."
"Oh, cousin !" said the little girl, iu
an agony of distress. "I cannot tell a
lie; indeed 1 cannot ; why did you tell
nie which way you were iroingP
Hetty, dear ciniu, surely yon would
not lictray me to my death! Hark!
thev are coming I hear the click of
their horses feet. O, Hetty, tell them
1 have gone I I the road instead of
hows; and Heaven will bless you."
"Heaven never blesses those who
speak falsely, cousin ! But I will not
tell them w'hich way you go, even if
they kill lite; so run as quickly as
possible.'
"It's of no use ; unless I can deceive
them, 1 am a dead man."
"Cousin, cousin, hide under my web
of cloth ; they'd never think of looking
here for you. Come, get down as swift
as you can ; and I'll cover you, aud
stand sprinkling my liuen."
"It's my only chance, child ; 111 get
down as you say." And suiting the
action to the word, the Governor was
soon hidden under the ample folds of
the cloth.
Angry that their expected prey had
escaped from the house where they
hoped to secure him, the six mounted
Tories, headed by a l.ritish ollicer,
dashed alone the road in swift pursuit.
At sight of the girl in the meadow, the
leader of the party paused.
"Child," he said, sternly, "have yon
seen a man running away hereabouts f"
"Yes, sir,"1 replied Hetty, trembling
and Hushing.
"Which way did he goT"
"I promised not to tell, sir."
"But you must, or take the conse
quences."' "I said I wonldu't teil, if you killed
me," sobbed the frightened girl.
"I'll have it out of her," exclaimed
the furious ollicer with an oath.
"Let me speak to her," said his Tory
guide; "I know the child, I believe.
Isn't your name Hetty Marvin!'' he
asked pleasantly.
"Yes, sir."
"And this man that ran by yon a few
minutes ago, was your mother's cousin,
wasn't he I"
"Yes, sir, he was."
"Well, we are friends of his what
did he say tovou when he came along"
"He he told me that he was flying
for his life."
"Just so, Hettv; that was very true.
I hope he won't liave to fly far. Where
was he going to hide T you see I could
help him if 1 knew his plans."
Now Hetty was not a whit deceived
by this smooth speech. But she was
willing to tell as much of the truth as
would consist with his safety, and she
wisely judged that her frankness would
serve' her kinsman better than her si
lence. So she answered her questioner
candidlv "My cousin said he was
going down this way to the river,
where he had a boat: and he wanted
me to tell the men that were chasing
him that he had gone the other way to
catch the mail wagon."
"Why didn't yon do as he bid yon.
then, w'hen I asked you where he had
gone!"' thundered the officer, fiercely.
"I could not tell a lie, sir," was the
tearful answer.
"Hetty," again began the smooth
tongued Tory, "you are a nice child.
Everybodv knows you are a girl of
truth. What did your cousin say,
when yon told him you couldu't tell a
falsehood.
"He said he shouldn't think I'd be
tray him to his death."
"And you then promised him that you
wouldn't tell w Inch way he went, if you
were killed tor it!"
"Yes. sir."
"That was a brave speech; and so I
suppose he thanked you for it, and ran
down the road as quickly as possible."
"I promised not to tell where he went,
sir."
"Oh, yes, I forgot Well, tell ns his
last words, aud we won't trouble you
any more."
"His last words were, 'It's my only
chance, child, and I'll get down as you
say." Aud overcome by fright, and
the sense of her kinsman's danger,
should they rightly interpret the lan
guage which she had reported, she
sobbed aloud, and hid her face from
sight
tier tormentors did not stay longer
to sooth or question her. They had
got as they supposed, the information
whice they wanted, and pusued rapidly
on down to the river. Now the Gover
nor had aiTanged a signal with his
boatmen that a white cloth by day, or a
light by night, displayed from the attic
window of his hiding-place, which was
just visible at the mouth of the river,
should inform them if he were in
trouble, and put them upon the alert to
help him. As soon, therefore, as he
started from his cousin's the signal
floated from the window to warn them.
And when they saw the pursuing party
dash madly down the road to the river,
and recognized the British uniform of
the lender, they pulled swiftly out to
sea. The horsemen reached the shore
only in season to see the boat with two
men in it, nearly out of sight ; and sup
posing their destined prey had escaped,
relinquished the pursuit.
Meanwhile the hunted victim lay
safe and quiet, where the simple
shrewdness of the little cousin had
hidden him, until the timecame for her
return for supper. Then he bade her
go as usual to her home, telling her to
ask her mother to place the signal
lamp, as soon as it grew dark, in the
window, for the boatmen, and to send
him there some supper, with his valise
which, in the hurry of departure, he
had left behind.
The signal recalled the boat which
after twilight had ventured in sight of
the shore and the farm-house, and the
Governor quietly made his way to the
river in safety. When he rejoined his
father in a secure home, he named bis
infant daughter, which had been lmrn
in his alisence, "Hetty Marvin," that
he might be daily reminded of the
little cousin whose truth and shrewd
ness saved his life. Indiana Church
man. A a Old H omao't glory.
A singular trial for murder has taken
place at Massivria, and has ended in
the acquittal of the prisoners two
brothers, who were accused of the mur
der of their uncle, a rich old Odessa
merchant
The old man, having retired from ac
tive life and wound np his business, re
turned from Odessa some years ago and
settled down in Missivria, his native
town. Here he gave much in charity
to the poor, and behaved handsomely
to his two nephews, with whom he
lived, and whom he helped out of pov
erty into a respectable position in local
trade. Three years ago the old man
suddenly disappeared. No serious in
quiry, however, was made to ascertain
what had become of him. His nephews
made liberal donations to the churches,
and inherited, or rather appropriated
the old man's wealth. Probably they
would have been left undisturbed in
the enjoyment of their riches but for
a circumstance which, for a time, must
have caused them some trouble and
anxiety.
On a certain day in the early part of
this year, and old woman asked for an
audience with the cadi, and on being
admitted, made a deposition as follows :
"It was a dark, stormy night," the old
woman said. "The wind had several
times blown in my window sash, put
ting out my lamp, and causing the em
bers of my fire to fly about the room.
Suddenly amid the howling of the storm
I heard a shnea, then a moan, strange
sounds followed, which seemed to come
from the house of my neighbor, the
Odessa merchant 1 crossed myself.
and drank a little raki to keep np my
courage, and then I remembered that
there was a crack in the wall of my
closet, through which I could see into
the house of my neighbor the merchant
Thither I went, and applied my eye to
the crevice in the mud wall, and this is
what I saw.
"Two men were pressing down pil
low upon the face of another man, whom
they kept prostrate, and a woman was
holding a light The old man I rec
ognized him was very strong, for he
overthrew his nephews, although his
throat was cut, and blood gushed from
the wound. He would have escaped,
but the woman struck him in the face
with a chair. His head was bent back
ward, as though he could not keep it
in its place on account of the gash
across his throat Still his eyes flashed
life ; he staggered toward the window ;
but there he was again struck down by
his nephews. Then they sawed away
at his throat till the head was separated
from the trunk."
The accuser went on to say that she
threatened the murderers with a dis
closure of the crime which she had wit
nessed, but they promised her "hush
money ;" that, as she was poor, she
agreed in consideration thereof to hold
her tongue, and that she washed the
bloed from the floor of the room where
the old man had been put to death.
The "hush money," however, had not
been paid, and as she was starving, she
determined to make known her story.
The story was told in March or April,
but no proceedings were taken until
August The accused parties were
then arrested and confined in the Zup
tieh "Oda." The old woman, too, waa
put in prison, and was flogged and half
smothered between mattresses night
after night until the trial ended, and
the persons whom the vox populi still
stigmatizes as murderers were declared
innocent From the Levant HeratcU
The Scientific Frog A Fable.
A discontented and curious frog, see
ing a couple of men sitting under the
shadow of-a tree by the side of a stream
of water, and engaged in conversation,
hopped np the bank, and seated him
self before them to learn something
from their conversation.
One of the men was a scientific quack,
and was just now warmly advocating
"the development hypothesis." "We
know nothing of God, he said ; "this
stream flows on becanse water runs
down hill ; the winds blows because na
ture makes it blow ; the snn shines and
the plants grow, all as the result of law.
Who sees any design in it f A man is
a fool to bebeve what he cannot see.
What are we men ? Only higher devel
opments of some lower animals, such
as fishes and frogs I" And then the
men departed..
Thenceforth the frog was a philoso
pher. He held np his head with pride,
and endeavored to hop only on his bind
legs. He was not particularly proud
of his ancestry, but entertained great
expectations of his numerous families
of polliwigs. One of them, at least, he
hoped would develop into a little man.
After this he determined to travel
and enrich his mind by observation.
The first place he visited was a saw-mill
of which he had often heard his father
speak. He seated himself upon a log
with his back toward a revolving saw,
and began to soliloquize.
"Now this saw-mill," said he, "my
father told me was designed by a higher
power for the purpose of making boards
Nonsense ? There is no euch thing aa
design. This mill made itself. It
was developed by nature and law. How
foolish to believe in what yon cannot
see."
In the meantime the miller let on the
water, and the log began to glide
smoothly along and the saw to revolve,
and while the frog was absorbed in
meditation the saw reached him, and
presto ! he was cut asunder, and that
was the end of hia travels and philoso
phy. Moral : It is not well for frogs or
men to pretend to know too much, for
excess of knowledge and stupidity are
sometimes the same thing.
Power r Beaaty.
"A woman is only as old as she
looks," says the old adage ; and history
is full of the accounts of the fascina
tions of women who were no longer
young. Thus, Helen of Troy was over
forty years old when she perpetrated
the most famous elopement on record ;
and. as the siege of Troy lasted a de
cade, she could not have been very
juvenile when the ill-fortune of Pans
restored her to ner Husband, wno is
reported to have received her with un
questioning love and gratitude. Peri
cles wedded tne courtesan Aspasia,
when she was thirty-six, and yet she
afterward, for thirty years or more,
wielded an undiminished reputatiou
for beauty. Cleopatra was past thirty
when Antony fell under her spell,
which never lessened until her death,
nearly ten years after ; and Livia was
thirty-three when she won the heart of
Augustus, over whom she maintained
her ascendancy to the last More
modern history tells us of the extraor
dinary Diane de Poitiers, who was
thirty-six when the young Duke of
Orleans afterward Henry 1L became
attached to her. Anne of Austria was
thirty-eight when she was described as
the handsomest queen of Europe, and
when Buckingham and Richelieu were
her jealous admirers. Ninon de l'Eoclos
the most celebrated wit and beauty of
her day, was the idol of three fenera
tions of the golden youth of France,
and she was seventy-two when the Abbe
de Bern is fell in love with ber. True
it is that in the case of this lady, a rare
combination of culture, talents and
personal attractions endowed their
possessor seemingly with the gifts of
eternal youth. Bianca Capello was
thirty-eight when the Grand Duke
Francisco of Florence fell captive to
her charms and made her his wife,
though he was five years her junior.
Louis XIV. wedded Madame de Main
tenon when she was forty-three years
of age. Catherine 1L, of Russia, was
thirty-three when she seized the Em
pire of Russia and captivated the dash
ing young General Orloff. The cele
brated Mile. Mars only attained the
zenith of her beauty and power between
forty and forty-five. At that period
the loveliness of ber hands and arms
especially were celebrated throughout
Europe. Madame Recamier was
thirty-eight when Barras was ousted
from power, and she was, without dis
pute, declared to be the most beautiful
woman in Europe, which rank she held
for fifteen years. The reader will per
ceive that although youth is an "esti
mable thing in woman," its loss does
not necessarily destroy her power of
fascination.
Mistakes) Matrimonial.
That the subject is lamentably old
we readily admit ; but what matters
that, so long as humanity is ever new?
Marrying and giving in marriage will
continue to the end of the world ; but,
for all that.a great number of marriages
prove a mistake. Unfortunately, when
men and women have matrimonial de
signs npon each other, they endeavor
to hide their true characters, and, how
ever dissimilar their tastes, to pretend
that they are alike, lhe rules of eti
quette are such that a course of decep
tions is rendered surprisingly easy ;
indeed, so facile, that were there no
intention npon the part of those most
concerned to dissemble, almost the
same end would be attained. It is not
natural to us to display our best attri
butes to strangers of either sex ? Men
are often captivated by the seeming
amiability of women who are, in reality,
while women shrewish ; admire the no
bility of men who can not define the
word "honor." In either case matri
mony follows afterward misery in five
cases out of six. For, after marriage,
the true traits of characters begin to
show themselves. A scowl, or a sharp
word, or a mean action, will not then
involve serious consequences. Things
that before the Gordian knot has been
tied would probably bring about a sep
aration, after the honey moon has been
passed are quietly received, probably
upon the principle that 'what can't be
cured must be endured.' It must not
be understood that we mean to imply
that the majority of marriages are en
tered upon without affection being at
the bottom of them. We grant that
there is love of a certain kind in many,
and very sincere love in some. What
we man tain is, that it is brought to fru
ition nnder such circumstances that it
can not be expected to endure.
I'sing lhe Same Towel.
Health follows neatness, and disease
the departure from it The use of the
same towel by many, common in a
public place, though more allowable
than the use of the same tooth-brush,
is nevertheless a not much healthier
practice.
A prominent oculist says that the
contagious Egyptian or grai alar inflam
mation of the eyes is spreading rapidly
throughout the country, and adds: "I
have in many, and 1 may say in the
majority of cases, been able to trace
the disease to the use of the so-called
rolling-towels. Sueh towels are gener
ally found in onr country hotels and
the sleeping apartments of the working
classes, and being thus used by nearly
every one, are made the carriers of one
of the most dangerous, and as regards
its symptoms, most troublesome dis
eases of the eye. I therefore would
strongly recommend that the use of the
rolling-towel be abolished, for thereby
we will discard one of the great instru
ments for t he spread of such a dangerous
disease of the eye, by which thousands
of working men are annually deprived
ji their means of suDoort."
Eve aad Ear.
The deepest musical wave note that
can be heard by the human ear, is pro
duced by regular successive impulses
of sixteen times a second, while the
highest note which is susceptible to the
ear, is four thousand times a second,
hence the range extends over eleven
octaves. The human eye can perceive
the difference between the red and the
violet rays.. The waves of the former
are l-40,000th part of an inch apart,
and of the latter l-66,000th of an inch
long about one octave. Hence the
ear is eleven times keener than the eye.
Itotcoe.
Habits of I seels.
Dr. Packard, of Salem Massachu
setts, says there are more than 50,000
species of insects in the United States,
and of this large number 10,000 are
found in the State of Massachusetts.
Among the 10,000 there are "at least,
1,000 destructive species." The ravages
of these destroyers are really appaUing,
and are to be estimated by hundreds of
thousands of dollars. It is obvious that
no means of checking the mischief ean
be employed until the particular way in
which each species does its particular
mischief has been ascertained.
A Maine man asks why it is that at
the coldest season nature takes off her
duds?
lorTBs- coirs.
Learx a Trad a. I never look at
my old steel composing rule that I do
not bless myself that, while my strength
lasts, I am not at the mercy of the
world. If my pen is not wanted 1 can
go back to the type-case and be sure to
fiad work ; for I learned the printer's
trade thoroughly newspaper work, job
work, book work and press work. 1 am
glad to have a good trade. It is a rock
upon whioh the possessor caa stand
firmly. There is health and vigor for
both body and mind in an honest trade.
It is the strongest and surest part of the
self -m vie man. Go from the academy
to the printing office or the artisan's
bench, or if you please, to the farm
for, to be snre, true farming is a trade,
and a grand one at that Lay thus a
sure foundation, and after that branch
off into whatever profession you please.
You have heard, perhaps, of the
clurk who had faithfully served Stephen
(tuard from boyhood to manhood. On
the twenty-first anniversary of his
birthday he went to his mister and
told him his time was up, and he cer
tainly expected important promotion in
the merchant's service. But Stephen
Girard said to him :
Very well. Now go and learn a
trade."
"What trade, sir?"
"Good barrels and butts must be in
demand while you live. Go and learn
the cooper's trade ; and when you have
made a perfect barrel bring it to me."
The young man went away and
learned the trade, and in time bronght
to his old master a splendid barrel of
his own make,
Girard examined it and gave the
maker two thousand dollars for it, and
then said to him :
"Now, sir, 1 want you in my counting-room
; but henct forth you will not
be dependent upon the whim of Ste
phen Girard. Let what will come, you
have a good trade always in reserve."
The young man saw the wisdom, and
understood.
Years ago, when the middle-aged men
of to-day were boys, Horace Greeley
wrote :
"It is a . great source of consolation
to us that when the public shall be'
tired of us at an editor, we can make a :
satisfactory livelihood at setting type
ui tniiuiUK , OKM IUM WI111C uui Sfcieujbu
lasts, ten thousand blockhead, taking
offense at some article they do not un
derstand, could not drive us iuto the
poor-house."
And so may a man become truly in
dependent I Ate thk Si-oar Myself. A little
girl tamed Caroline had a very lovely
little canary-bird. It sang from early
morning until evening, and was of a
beautiful golden yellow, with a black
tuft upon its head. Caroline gave it
seeds and cooling herbs to eat ; some
times, also, a lump of white sugar, and
fresh water daily to drink. But sud
denly the little bird began to droop,
and one morning as Caroline bronght it
some fresh water, it lay dead in the
cage.
Caroline loudly lamented the loss of
her darling pet and cried for a long
time. Her mother went and bought
another that was just as sweet of song
and yet more beautiful of plumage than
the former, and put it in the same cage.
But the maiden wept still louder when
she saw this new songster. Her mother
wondered much at this and said : "My
dear child, why are yon so much
troubled, and wherefore do yon con
tinue to weep Your tears cannot call
back your dead canary to life, and here
you have another that is just as good
and as pretty as the first" Then the
child said : "Oh, dear mother, I have
done wrong to my canary and did not
treat it as I ought"
"Dear Lina," returned the mother,
"you tended it very carefully." "Oh,
no," said the little girl, "a short time
before it died I did not bring it a piece
of sugar, which you gave me for it ; I
ate the sweet white lump myself."
So spoke the little girl, much afflicted.
The mother did not laugh at her daugh
ter's affliction, for she recognised and
honored the holy voice of conscience in
the heart of her child.
Talkpo to Santa Clacs. "Children
make Christmas what it is," said Aunt .
Prim. "I remember my baby, niee
little Plum, cherished a firm belief that I
Santa Clans lived up the chimney ; and j
as Christmas drew near, and visions of
possible gifts filled her little heart, she
would go slow and timidly to the fire,
hesitate a moment, and then deliver
aloud Tea-set !' np the chimney, rnn
ning away instantly as fast as she could,
with a vague fear of pursuit from the
unknown diety. We nsed to hear her
call ont these abrupt messages at all
hours of the day : 'Dolls,' 'No's yark,'
'Yittle tart wid horses,' were fired up
the chimney like minute-guns. Once,
when she had been fretful, her mother
endeavored to quiet her by the sug
gestion that Santa Clans might hear
her. This seemed to have an effect
Miss Plum sat demurely on her little
stool for some some time ; but finally
the idea of an unseen sentinel became
oppressive, and going to the grate she
called ont, "Santa Clans, you needn't
watch me any more : my mamma can
take care of me."
Johx Qnscr Adams' Love fob his
Mother. The mother of John (Juincy
Adams said, in a letter to him, written
when he was only twelve years old :
"I would rather see you laid in your
grave than grow up a profane and
graceless boy."
Not long before the death of Mr.
Adams a gentleman said to him : "I
have found ont who made you."
"What do you mean? asked Mr.
Adams.
The gentleman replied : "I have
been reading the p"Mished letters of
your mother."
"If, this gentleman relates, "l bad
spoken that dear name to some little
boy who had been for weeks away from
his mother, Lis eyes could not have
flashed more brightly, nor his face
glowed more quickly, than did the eyes
and face of that venerable old man
when I pronounced the name of his
mother. He stood np in his peculiar
manner and said :
"Yes, sir, all that is good in me I owe
to my mother."
Property. Property left to a child
may soon be lost ; but the inheritance
of virtue a good name, and unblem
ished reputation will abide forever.
If those who are toiling for wealth to
leave their children, would but take
half the pains to secure for them virtu
ous habits, how much more serviceable
would they be. The largest property
may be wrested from a child, but virtue
will stand by him to the last
To do what is difficult and disagreea
ble, with a faithful and cheerful spirit,
is the first great achievement
The bored of education Children
who hate school.
TtKirrnx
King David has come to see Jonathan.
Joton JournaU
Three KKs Kn Klux, King Kala
kaua, and Katie King.
A good tailor sponges his cloth, and
his customers sometimes sponge him.
"Sweet are the nses of advertise
ments," as Mrs. Partington once said
to Ike.
There is said to be a birth every five
minutes in London, and a death every
eight minutes.
Many a clergymen has broken down
through preaching fine-print sermons
to coarse-print people.
"Smothered Venus" is a California
dish ; and, in spite of its name, it's
only beefsteak and onions.
The race is not always won by the
strong. Were it so, the onion would
be a head instead of the cabbage.
The Arab chiefs of Algiers have raised
a subscription of 200,000 franca to place
a memorial over the tomb of Napoleon
III. in England.
The lobster has gone West He has
been successfully transplanted to the
waters of the Pacific, where he was pre
viously unknown.
The cenUnnial of the battle of Lex
ington is to be celebrated April lath.
This is the first "go off" of the revolu
tionary souvenir business.
Bones of Robert Bruce were quoted
in Edinbnrgh at C2 10s a piece, which
isn't much bonus considering the time
they've been accumulating interest
A leaden coffin, containing what has
been conjectnred as the remains of
King Stephen, was recently found un
der the church of St Mary, at Dover,
England.
Many persons will be surprised to
learn that Liverpool, England, is not
an incorporated city. It is merely a
town, and a movement ia proposed in
the direction of obtaining a city charter.
Petroleum springs have been discov
ered in Northern Germany, which in
purity, clearness, and specific weight,
are said to surpass those of the Uuitexl
States. There are also many in Rus
sia. King Kalakana has, it is said, an in
come of $22,500 per annnm. This is de
rived from a tax of 5 cents on every
$100 worth of property, 1 on every
horse, and for every carriage owned
and run in his dominions.
It is said that wax flowers, if left out
in a drizzling rain, will le thoroughly
cleaned in a short tin e, and will look
wonderfully refreshed and thankful.
The hand-writing of a thousand house
flies may be obliterated in this simple
manner.
One of the oddest of sensations is
said to be that of being lowered fifteen
hundred feet iuto a mine. The great
length of cable allows a spring of a foot
or more upon the slightest movement
in the basket, and W. J. Florence, who
has just had the experience in Nevada,
says it feels like being a bait at the end
of a rubber string.
The nnmber of railway accidents
which have oecured during the year
ending with September, are given aa
9S7 ; the number of persons killed, 'Jill :
and the number injured, 7SO. This ia
an average of nearly three accidents a
day, and one person killed or injured
for each accident When the number
of trains ran, the people traveling, are
taken into account, the per cent, ia ex
tremely small.
A story is told of two pretty Balti
more girls, who were out rowing on the
Lake uf Lucerne, and when the barge
of the King of Holland came alonir in
stead of trailing oars and respectfully
falling behind royality, actually raced.
The King was evidently amused with
this exhibition of American indepen
dence ; and made a sign to his oarsmen
to let the young ladies go ahead. Com
ing to the quay second, he told his cox
swain to moor the victors' boat, and
said "He knew they were Americana."
The secret of health : First Keep
cool. Second Eat regularly and slow
ly. Third Man tain regular bodily
habits. Take early and very light sup
pen ; or, better still, none at all. Fifth
Keep a clean skin. Sixth G -t plenty
of sleep at night Seventh Keep
cheerful and respectable company.
Eighth Keep ont of debt Ninth
Don't set your mind on things you
don't need. Tenth Mind your own
Dusiness. r.ievenm 1011 t sei np io
be a sharp of any kind. Twe'fth Snb
dae curiosity.
Only the female spiders spin webs.
They own all the real estate, and the
males have to live a vagalond life un
der stones and in other obnenre hiding
places. If they come a1ont the honso
so often as to bore the ruling sex, they
are mercilessly killed and eaten. The
spider's skin is as unyielding as the
shells of lobsters and crabs, aud is shed
from time to time in the same way to
a. -commodate the animals growth. If
yon poke over the rubbish in a female
spider's back yard, among her cast off
corsets you will fiud the jackets of the
males who have paid for their sociality
with their lives trophies of ber barba
rism as truly aa scalps show the savage
nature of the red man.
Of all the amusements that can pos
sibly be imagined for a working mn,
after daily toils, or in the intervals,
there is nothing like reading a newspa
per or a book. It calls for no bodily,
exertion, of which already he has had
enough, perhaps too much. It relieves
his home of dullness and sameness.
Nay, it accompanies him to his next
day's work, and gives him something
to think of beside the mechanical drud
gery of his every day occupation ; some
thing he can enjoy while absent, and
look forward to with much pleasure.
If I were to pray for a taste which
would stand by me under every variety
of circumstances, and be a source of
happiness and cheerfulness to me
through life, and a shield against all
ills, however things might go amiss,
and the world frown npou me, it would
be a taste for reading.
A machine has at length been con
structed, which will travel at a speed of
nine knots an hour for three hundred
yards, and at a lower speed for no less a
distance than a mile. It will maintain
any direction impressed npon it, and it
can be launched either from a boat or
an iron clad, by night or by day. In
short it is a kind of explosive fish,
which, in obedience to its masters, will
swim for a mile toward any adversary
at which it may be directed, and will
strike a dangerous if not a fatal blow.
If ships at a distance of a mile ean be
struck with certainty by a mechanical
fish discharged from a harbor, no an
chorage will be safe, and when two
fleets approach one another each will
have to encounter innumerable foe.
Every sea and harbor will practically be
a mine of torpedoes, and any vessel of
tight construction must be hopelessly
doomed.
i
I
f i.
i
i