B. F. SCHWEIER,
THI COS8TITCTI0S TH TOKMi AKD THK ESFORCEMINT OF THE LAWS.
Editor and Proprt-s-a-o
TOL. XXIX.
MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., MARCH 17, 1S75.
NO. 11.
POETBT.
A MOKli NOSH.
1 wake th.8 mom, and all my life
lr freehly mine to live;
Tlie f cture with sweet promise rife.
And crowns of joy to give).
.New words to speak, new UionghW to bear.
Sew love to give and take;
r.-rvbauoe new burdens I mar bear,
i'ur lore's own sweetest sake.
New hopes to open in the nan.
New efforts worth the will,
r tanks with yesterday begun
More bravely to fulfil.
i'rcxh needs for all the time to be.
Are in my hand to sow,
hereby, for others and for me,
l'ndreamed-of fruit may grow.
In earn white daisy 'mid the grass
That turns my foot aside.
In eaih uncurling fern I jtasa,
Nmie sweetest joy may hide.
And if, when eventide shall fall
In shades across my way.
It seems that nought my thoughts recall
IJut life of every day :
Vrt if each step in shine or shower
lie where Thy footstep trod.
Then blessed be every happy hour
That leads us nearer God.
- i ',HHjr JourttaL
1S4 IXI.lST.
The Harku ol m .Min'tler.
A corresiiondeiit f the 'National
I'-aptiM" telfs this story of f lie late Dr.
I'., ill line:
on one occasion, when the Doctor
was resilient iii Philadelphia, he went
tm a tew days of rest to a trout stream
lie hail heard of in tlie interior of the
Mate. Arriving, an entire stranger, at
a house kept by a man who hail Ix-en
a -customed to entertain those who
came there to fish, lie was coldly re
ceiveil. The man told him frankly
that he had attended a protracted
meeting during the Winter, that he
Iiom-I the Lord had forgiven his sins,
and that he had joinad the Methodist
Church, and meant to give up toiiiK
with the kind of men who came up
there to fish. The Doctor's humor
overcame his scruples so far as to gain
admittance for tlie nit-'lit, and the nest
morning succeeded still further, pre
vailing upon the man to go out with
him ami show him tlie licst places of
the stream. They sjK-iit most of the
day together, and, on returning to the
house in the alterniHHi.the man slapicd
Ini i the shoulder. Raying:
"I ., I like vou."
"Whv do vou like me, my friend
'U.il, 1 .-- I'll tell you. We've
U n out almost all day, we haven't
caught iiitich, you tell in and pot wet,
and I haven't heard you swear once;"
After supper, as the Doctor was
smoking his pipe in front of the house,
his host came out, anil, with some hesi
tancy, said : "Dm-., since 1 jmed the
church I've had prayer every night :
we are going to have theui now, and
mat he you wouldn't object to come in.'
"Certainly not, my friend ; and lie
went in "to listen to the reading of a
passage ill a hroken way, and to join
heartily in a rood old Methodist hyinii.
Dining the singing the man watched
him closely, and at the enit Kiid an
xiously, "Maylie you wouldn't mind
leading us in prayer." The Doctor
knelt and offered one of those full and
lieaity. yet simple supplications which
are so "well rcmciiilicrcd liy all who
knew him. He was hardly seated in
liout of the house again before the
man rt-apcared, saying, 'Doe., 1 kinder
suspicion yoit."'
"W hat do yon suspect me of T Noth
ing had, I hoe!"
"No, nothing had, and niaylie I'm
wrong; hut 1 kind o' think you area
minister.1
"What makes you think I'm a min
ister!1 "Well, I'll tell you : I haven't liearn
yon swear since you came ; then the
"way you ji tied us in thehymu; then
tin- way you prayed, made me think
.ni was a minister.
The doctor laughed heartily as lie
acknowledged that he was indeed a
minister.
The lr a
nI Fnnefioo or the
Leaf.
The ollice and utility of leaves are
becoming lictter understood ly cultiva
tors than formerly; yet we lind a good
luanv still adhere to the old In-licf that
the sun's rays, shining directly on form
ing fruit, are what iertect it.iiidepciid
eiillv id other influences. Ml this sub
ject.' theory and practice have been in
xaiiahlv found in perfect accordance
with each other. The principles of
jlivsiology teacli US that the sap of a
tree, wheu it passes in at the roots, re
main nearly unchanged in its upward
progress through stem and branches,
until it reaches the leaves w here, lcing
spread out in those thin organs t light
ami air, it undergoes a complete change,
ami thus becomes suited to the forma
tion of new wood and new fruit. Strip
a rapitllv-giowing tree of its leaves at
iiiid-smiinier, anil from that moment
the supply- of new wood ceases, and it
will trow" no more till new leaves are
formed ; and if it has young fruit, the
growth and matin it v of the latter w ill
c.a-e in the name way. A tew years
since, a yellow gage plum tiee lost all
its foliage from leaf blight, when the
plums were not fully grown, and while
vet destitute 'of flavor. The fruit re
mained stationary ami unaltered. until,
in a lew weeks, a second crop of leave
came out. Thev then swelled to full
sue, assumed their crimson dots, and
received their honied sweetness of
ri ivor. The object of pruning should
U- therefore, to allow the leaves to
.. t.. full size without being injured
liom crowding. We find the following
corroborative tact stated in a late mini
1
M-r of the '.New England Farmer : v e
one
knew an intelligent laiiy who
stripped her graie vines of a portion oi
their leaves, in order to let m the sun
ami i ien the fruit ; but, to her surprise,
where the leaves remained as Nature
had disiioscd them. the grajies were the
cai licst, and every way the licst. I Ins
!-t her to investigate the matter, when
-he wa. delighted to Icaiii that tlie
leaves were not only the protector,
hut the caterers of the fruit, constantly
ilalH.ratiiigand supplying it with the
pabulum it required to bring it to per
fection. -The. Garden.
nriitie r UmoSf.
The Hindoos arc said toha eno word
for "friend.1' The Italians have no
equivalent for our "humility." 1 he
l;usian dictionary gives a word the
.t.tiiiitioii ot which is "not to have
enough buttons on your footman s
waistcoat;" a second means lo kill
over again f a third ".to earn by danc
ing.' The German call a thimble a
linger-hat," w hich it certainly ts .itm
a
it I. them 'is a "haud-s Ii.k-." showing
that thev wore shoes before, gloves.
The French, strange
to say, have no
4 in I iriiiii, .
verb "to stand," nor can a t renchman
tiw ak of "kicking any one," I he
nearest approacn lie, in ui i"-i
makes to it, is to threaten to "give a
hlow.witb his foot," the same thing,
probably, to the recipient in either
case, but it seems to want the direct
ness, the energy, of our "kick..' The
terms "up stairs" and "down stairs
are also unknown in French.
BERENICE.
"Suppose we giro it up, Berry, and
stay at home," suggested the young
husband, laying aside the dainty invi
tation cards as he spoke. You wouldn't
care a great deal, would you ?"
ISereuice put up her cherry lips in a
childish pout "Of course I care,
Bmee,"she said reproachfully ; "every
body else is going ; why cannot we go ?
Why, the ball at Belvidere Place is all
the talk. Carrie Dabant's going, and
she's got the loveliest dress that human
eyes ever beheld. And such lace real
point and a brand-new turquoise set.
and her husband's not half as well off
as von are."
"Well, well, don't fret. Berry," said
her hnsband, with a sigh ; 'if you've
set your heart on it yon shall go. But
I thought," he added, hesitatingly. "I
mean well, the plain truth is. Berry,
that I'm a little cramped for cash now.
That heavy note comes due on Friday,
and my affairs are not quite so steady
as I like. And this ball"
"Oh, nonsense," interposed the
young wife, giving her red gold ringlets
a toss : "yon men always talk that way.
Papa always did, I remember, when
mamma went to kirn for money. But
you can't impose on me, Bruce ; I'm
too well posted. You've money enough ;
there's no mistake about that. And I
sha'n't need a fortune ; so the matter's
settled ; we shall go to the ball at
Belvidere."
"Very well ; you shall have it your
own way," he replied ; and, rising up
from his bright little breakfast table,
Bruce Danbar kissed his wife, and went
down town to his place of business.
They had not been married quite a
year, and the yonng husband could not
find it is his heart to deny his pretty
child wife a single gratification ; bnt
he looked moody enough aa he walked
down the cheerful, sunlight street, He
told the truth when he said he was
cramped for cash ; there was not a spare
dollar in his till.
A few years back this same hand
some Bruce Danbar had been what is
termed in fashionable parlance "fast."
He drove a blooded horse, indulged in
cards and champagne suppers, and
sowed his wild oats pretty plentifully.
But in the midst of all this he fell in
love with pretty Berenice Holbrook,
and the whole manner of his life was
changed.
Since the hour of his marriage he
had given up all his bachelor in
dulgences, and walked unswervingly in
the narrow path of rectitude and virtue,
lie was doing his best to redeem the
past and retrieve his fallen fortunes.
And here came the invitation to the
Belvidere ball in the most inopportune
time.
He reached his office with a heavy
heart, and set about his work, counting
over the long list of unpaid bills. "If
Berry would only give np the ball !"
he thought every time he raised his
eyes from the dreary ledger.
But pretty Berenice, with her peach
bloom cheeks and red-gold tressess,
had no snch thought as taut. Just lie
fore the hour of closing she came flirt
ing into her young hnsband's office,
such a radiant creature, in her silks and
jewels, that he forgot his cares, and
looked np with a smiling welcome.
"I've been out shopping love," she
Raid, touchiug her ripe lips to his brow ;
"getting our things for the Belvidere.
I've got yon an exquisite vest and tie,
etc, aud i wish, I do wish, yon could
see mv dress I I bought it already
made a Faris affair, you know, silk
tisane and rose-buds, and knots of
Paris green. Oh, it is too lovely!
Carrie Dubact's won't compare with it
at all ! And Madame R said that I
must 1 positively must have an emer
ald set to match it ; a light emerald,
you know, to suit my complexion. And,
darling," touching her lips to his brow
again, "I was sure yon wouldn't mind,
and I got these" unclasping a casket
and flashing a blaze of sea-green
splendor before the yonng husband's
eyes "at a real bargain, too. Ain't
they exquisite ? And the whole bill,
for dress and everything, is only five
hundred dollars ! Now, haven't I been
an economical little wife ?"
Bruce Dunbar almost reeled where
he stood. Five hundred dollars, and
he with scarcely five hundred pennies
at his command ! But he muttered no
word of reproach. He kissed the pretty
face looking np to him, and then called
a cab and drove home, with his happy
wife chatting beside him.
They went to the ball at Belvidere
place, and Berenice Dunbar took the
palm for beauty, in her shimmering
robes, with her fresh cheeks and red
gold curls and childish manners. Her
hnsband followed her lead, forgetful
of everything bnt the joy of the mo
ment. The "Beautiful Blue Danube" had
ended, and they were in the refreshment
room.
"Come, Brace, let's have a glass to
your beautiful bride's health and hap,
piness," said an old friend, meeting
him for the first time since his mar
riage. "
The vonnc man shook his head, and
was on the oint of uttering a polite
refusal, but his wife pinched his arm.
' I'.rnce don't" she whispered : "it s
so old fashioned and saiutish. Why
don't you drink like other men ?"
Dunbar's cheeks flushed. It
had cost him a great struggle to give
nn Inn social class, but he had con
quered for his wife's sake. And this
was his reward ! He seized the glsss
and draiued it at a draught, The
clowintr honor ran like fire through his
veins, arousing all bis oia tuirsi, an ms
old craving for strong drink. Before
the great ball at Belvidere was over his
cheeks glowed and his eyes flashed, and
his step was a trine unsteady ; but
Berenice did not mind all the gentle
. " . , , f . Til . -
man in her set drank champagne.
Two weeks after the ball Berenice
waited impatiently for her husband's
return. Dinner was spoiling, the sal
mon steaks would le utterly ruined in
ten minutes more, and the young wife
was dreadfully impatient She had a
new dress and tickets for Kilsson. Why
did not Bruce come? But the dinner
hour passed, and the twilight with a
dismal rain, ana sun ne aia u"
Berenice went np to her chamber and
Amrr, in her little rockinK chair be
fore the fire, and there she sat Tor hours
bewailing her fate. On the bed lay her
lovely new dress. N was cruel in Bruce
to treat her so. She cried till her eyes
, ..i .n.l swollen, and at last, in
order to beguile the dreadful hours, she
n;bwl nn the evening paper.
. . , ,laiTi7 eflnl-
xnere wa, m g B --p -r-
tl-the fa. J"o' bankrrjpt.
A sharp cry escaped her hps as the ter
rible truth flashed upon her. And
where was he ? Why didn't he come
bMidnight came a black and stormy
midnight and still the yonng wife sat
there watching and waiting.
At last there came an unsteady step
!, notch below. She humed to
I- I i a an
the window and threw it np.
"Bruee, is that you J"
A thick, unnatural voice answered
her, "Yes, it's what's left o me. Berry,
let me in ; the police are after me,"
Berenice flew down and opened the
door. An officer mounted the steps as
she did so, and laid his hand heavily
on Bruce Dunbar's shoulder.
"Mr. Dunbar, you are my prisoner."
"He's my hnsband 1 shrieked Bere
nice. -'What are yon arresting him for?"
"For murder."
She looked down at Bruce, standing
in dogged silence, and by the light of
the hall lamp saw that his hands were
red with brood, and with one awful cry
she fell white and senseless on her own
threshold.
She awoke to consciousness in her
old home, and from her mother's lips
she heard the terrible story. Her hus
band had failed, and in order to drown
his trouble had drank deeply. In a
gambling house, where he was trying
to retrieve his losses, he had got into a
brawl, and had given his adversary a
mortal wound npon the temple.
"And it ia all my fault, not his,"
wailed the poor young wife ; "all mine.
I lured him to his ruin."
The morning before the trial a little
slip of paper was fonnd beneath the
window of the chamber in which
Berenice lay unto death. It ran thus :
"Good-bye, Berry. I won't stay here
and disgrace you. I've managed to
escape from prison, and I'm going
Heaven knows where ! Forget me, and
be happy. Bbccb."
Five years afterward a pale, sweet
faced woman sat in the cottage that
had once been Bruce Dunbar's home,
with a little child playing at her feet
a very different woman from the frivo
lous Berenice of days gone by, yet we
know her pearl-fair cheeks and red gold
hair. Sorrow and suffering had done
their work, and at last poor Berry saw
clearly. Her remorse had been deep
and bitter.
And now, day by day, with the little
boy who bore his father's face and his
father's name, she hoped and waited.
Her husband's crime was not murder ;
the wounded man did not die ; and the
way was clear for Bruce Dunbar to re
turn ; yet he did not come. He was
dead, his friends thought : but Berry
hoped with the faith of a deathless
love.
One summer day she sat at the cot
tage window with her child at her feet.
A royal summer day, the skies blue and
cloudless, the sunlit air sweet with the
breath of the roses and the purple
lilacs.
She had worked hard and faithfully
in those dreary five years, poor, re
morseful little Berry 1 Jewels and
laces, even ber father's dowry, had
gone to pay off her husband's debts and
clear his name. Her work was done
now. She owned the cottage, and in the
shadow of the purple lilac bloom she
sat, her sweet, sad face full of an un
utterable despair. Would he never
come back ? Would Heaven never for
give her?
The latch of the wicket gave a sharp
click, and the old house-dog started
forward with a peculiar cry. Berenice
looked up. A tall, gaunt figure, in
threadbare garments, was coming up
the walk. The haggard, unshorn face
and bleared eyes bore no resemblance
to handsome Bruce Duubar, but the
wife's unerring instinct could not be
deceived. She darted through the
window with a low, passionate cry.
"O, Bruce, my husband at last, at
last ! "
She pnt ont her arms to ciasp him.
but he held her back.
"Don't : I am not worthy." he said.
hoarsely ; "I'm a lost, degraded wretch.
But. Berry, his poor, haggard face full
of inexpressible tenderness, "I couldn't
die till I had seen you once more. Let
me look at you, and 1 II leave you for
ever.
But her yonng arms caught him in a
close embrace, her fond lips covered
his white face with kisses.
'Xo. you won't," she cried, "you
shall never leave me again. Your name is
clear, your debts are paid, and there is
a new life for us to lead my husband. I
have waited so long! It was all my
fault, Bruce ; the ball at Belvidere did
it. Can you ever forgive me ?
He held her in bis arms and sobbed
upon her shoulder, like a woman, in his
weakness. She turned to the open
window and beckoned to the child.
"And there's something else, Bruce,"
she said, "for too to live for now.
Look here !"
He raised his head and saw the little
fellow at his feet looking np in grave,
childish wonder.
And Bruce Danbar. with bis wife and
child in his arms, looked np to the far
off summer sky, asking Heaven to give
him strength to begin the new life he
intended to live.
And the strength must have been
vouchsafed to him ; for in five years
more he was one of the first men in his
native town, and if ever any feminine
weakness or temptation assailed Bere
nice, she had but to call to mind the
sad results of the Hall at iieividere.
Throng's the (asysn.
Maior Powell, whose descriptions of
the canyons of Colorado are so interest
ing and so eloquently told, tells ns of a
passage through one of those terrible
Hows in nis ooau, as iouows ;
Abont eleven o'clock we heard a great
roar ahead, and approached it very cau
tiously, the sound growing louder and
louder as we ran. At last we fonnd
nnraelvee above a long, broken falL with
ledges and pinnacles of rock obstructing
the river, inere waa a ueHceut oi
seventv-five or eighty feet, perhaps, in
a third of a mile and the rushing waters
were broken into great waves on the
rocks, and lashed themselves into foam.
We could land just aDove, out mere was
no foothold on euier side by which a
portage could be made. It waa nearly
a thousand feet to tne top of the granite
so it was impossible to carry our boats
around, though we could climb to that
point ourselves by a side gulch, and
naasinir along a mile or two. could de
scend to the river. We discovered this
on examination, but such a portage
wonld have been impracticable for ns.
and we were obliged to run the rapid or
abandon the river. -We
did not hesitate, bnt stepped into
the boata. pushed off. and dashed away,
first on smooth bnt swift water, then
striking a glassy wave and riding to its
top, down again into the trough, np
again on a higher wave, ana uown ana
nn nn the waves, higher and still higher.
until we struck one just as it curled
hack, when a breaker rolled over our
little undaunted boat On we sped, till
the boat was caught in a whirlpool and
sunn around and around. When
managed to pull out again, the other
boats had passea us. ids open com
partment of the "Emma Dean was
filled with water, and every breaker
rolled over us. Hurled back from the
rock now on this side, now on that. We
were carried at last into an May, in
which we struggled for a few minutes.
and then ont again, the breakers still
rolling over as. Our boat was un
manageable, but she could not sinK ana
we drifted down another hundred yards
through breakers how, we scarcely
knew. We found the other boata had
turned into an eddy at the foot of the
fall, and were waiting to catch ns as we
came, for they had seen that our boat
was swamped. They puanea ont as we
came near, and pulled us in against the
wall. We bailed ont the boat and
started on again.
BraiMr'f ClMdins.
Mr. Brasser, who lives on Ninth
avenue, has a son abont twelve years
old, named Claudius, and the other
evening this boy received permission to
allow a neighbor's boy to stay all night
with him. The old people sleep down
stairs in the sitting room, and the boys
were pnt into a room directly above.
When they went np to bed Claudius
had the clothes-line under his coat, and
the neighbor's boy had a mask in his
pocket They didn't kneel down and
say their prayers like good boys and
then jump into bed and tell bear stories
bnt as soon as the door waa locked tne
Brasser boy remarked :
"Yonll see more fun around here to
night than would lie on a ten acre lot 1"
From a closet they brought out a
cast-off suit of Brasser's clothes, stuffed
them with whatever came handy, tied
the mask and an old straw hat on for a
head, and while one boy was carefully
raising the window, the other was tying
the clothes-line around the "man."
The image was lowered down in front
of the sitting-room window, lifted up
and down once or twice, and old Brasser
was heard to leap out of bed with a
great jar. He was just beginning to
doze when he heard sounds nnder his
window, and his wife suggested it was
a cow in the yard. He got up, pulled
the curtain away, and as he beheld a
man standing there he shouted out,
"Great bottles ! but it's a robber I"
and he jumped into bed.
'Theodonus Brasser, are you a tool.'
screamed the wife, as he monopolized
all the bed-clothes, to cover np his head.
'Be quiet, you old jade, you !" he
whispered ; perhaps he'll go away !"
'Don t vou call me a lade ! she re
plied, reaching over and trying to find
bis hair. "Git np and git the gun and
blow his head off!"
"Oh ! yon do it !"
"Git up you old eoward,"she snapped.
'Ill never live with you another day if
you don't do it !"
Brasser turned up tne lamp, sat np
in bed, and cried out :
'Is that you, boys ?
'Mercy on me ! git np !" yelled the
wife, aa the straw man waa knocked
against the window.
"Ill blow his head off as clean as
milk !" said Brasser, in a loud voice, as
he got np. He struck the stove three
or four times, npset a chair, and reached
behind the foot of the bed and drew
out an old army musket
"Now. then, for blood 1" he con
tinued, aa he advanced to the window
and lifted the curtain.
The man was there face close to the
glass, and he had such a malignant ex-
ression of countenance that crasser
jumped back with a cry ol alarm.
"Kill him ! Shoot him down, you old
noodle-head !" screamed the wife.
'I will by thunder! I will!" replied
Brasser. and he blazed away, and tore
out nearly all the lower sash.
The boys np-staira uttered a yell and
a groan, and israsser jumped lor tne
window to see if the man was down.
He wasn't He stood right there, and
he made a leap at Brasser.
"He's coming in ! perlice ! boys !
ho ! perlice I" roared the old man.
The tattered curtain permitted Airs.
Brasser to catch sight of a man jumping
up and down, and she yelled :
. . mi , - w, . . i n
- i ueoaonup, i m going to laiui i
"Faint and be darned I Boys !
perlice!" he replied, wolloping the
sheet-iron stove with the poker.
"Don't you dare talk tnat way to
me !" shrieked the old woman recover
ing from the desire to faint
'Po-leece ! Po-leeoe 1" now came
from the boys np-staira, and while one
continued to shout the other drew the
man up, tore him limb from limb and
secreted the pieces.
Several neighbors were aroused, an
offioer came np from the station, and a
search of the premises waa made. Not
so much aa a track in the snow was
found, and the offioer pnt on an injured
look, and said to Mr. Brasser :
'A guilty conscience needs no ac
cuser.
"That's so f" chorused the indignant
neighbors, aa they departed.
Aa Mr. Israsser nnng a quilt before
the shattered window he remarked to
his wife :
"Now see what an old cundurango
you made of yourself I"
"Don t fling any insults at me, or l u
choke the attenuated life out ol yon !
she replied.
And the boys kicked around on tne
bed, chuoked each other in the ribs,
and cned :
"I'd rather be a boy than be a Presi
dentl"
The Delaaloaa X Suaell.
This sense, like the others, has its
alierrations and hallucinations. 1'be
delusions of smell are hardly ever
isolated, or occupy those of hearing,
sight taste and touch, and are also
leas frequent than the latter. Insane
neonle. who are affected with them.
complain of being haunted by fetid
emanations or congratulate them
selves on inhaling the most delicious
perfumes. Lelut mentions the case of
a woman, an inmate of La Salpetriere,
who fancied that she constantly tter-
ceived a frightful stench proceeding
from the rtecav of bodies in the courts
of that institution. Impressions of
the kind are usually very annoying.
H net-re De Boismont relates the ac
count of a woman affected by disorder
of the senses. Whenever she saw a
well-dressed lady passing she smelt the
odor of musk, which was intolerable to
her. If it were a man. she was dis
tressingly affected by the smell of
tobacco, though she was quite aware
that those scents existed enly in her
imagination. Campelini mentions that
a woman, who declared that sue could
not bear the smell of a rose, was quite
ill when one of ber friends came in
wearing one, though the unlucky flower
was only artinciai. aucn lacia niigni
be multiplied; but as they are all
alike, it is not worth while to mention
more of them. The observations made
in insane asylums, among others, those
of M. Prevost at Salpetriere, have
shown also that these delusions and
perversions of the sense of smell are
more common man nas uuuerro oeen
annnoned among such .invalids, and
that if they usually pass unnoticed, it
arises from the fact that nothing spon
taneously denotes their existence.
The newest vinaigrettes are of Russia
leather, in the shape of an Alpine horn.
They are usually urge and heavy, and
perhaps more imposing than elegant
Virls.
Mrs. Livermore, Olive Logan and
the Hon. Carl Schurz have given so
much time in discussing this important
subject that we have made np our mind
that if the girls are trained at home in
the following manner they would give
these wise heads something else to talk
about :
Teach them self-reliance :
Teach them to make bread.
Teach them to make shirts.
Teach them to foot np store bills.
Teach them not to wear false hair.
Teach them to wear thick warm
shoes.
Bring them np in the way they should
Teach them how to wash and iron
clothes.
Teach them how to make their own
dresses.
Teach them that a dollar ia only a
hundred cents.
Teach them how to darn stockings
and sew on buttons.
Teach them every day, dry hard prac
tical common sense.
Teach them to say no, and mean it ;
or yes, and stick to it
Teach them to wear calico dresses and
do it like queens.
Give them a good, substantial com
mon school education.
Teach them that a good rosy romp is
worth fifty consumptives.
Teach them to regard the morals and
not the money of their beaux.
Teach them all the mysteries of the
kitchen, the dining room and parlor.
Teach them the more one Uvea within
his income the more he will save.
Teach them to have nothing to do
with intemperate and dissolute yonng
men.
Teach them the further one lives be
yond his income the nearer he gets to
the poor house.
Itely npon it that upon your teaching
depends in a great measure the weal or
woe of their after life.
Teach them that a good steady me
chanic without a cent ia worth a dozen
loafers in broadcloth.
Teach them the accomplishments,
music, painting, drawing, if you have
time and money to do it with.
Teach them that God made them in
his own image, and no amount of tight
lacing will improve the model.
The Pewfr r m Word.
Did you ever think how much power
is vested in a wordf It may have
caused but little exertion on your part
to utter it. Only a single breath may
have liceu required to waft it from
your lips to the ears of your listener,
but when once spoken, it was past
recall. It revealed the secret motives
and brought tolight the hidden thoughts
of your heart. Ah! the word may have
Ix-en a thoughtless one spoken in an
unguarded moment ; but it left its im
press, and may be remembered long
after your voice is hushed, and you are
sleeping the sleep that knows no
waking.
Perhaps the word was an unkind one.
harshly spoken, ami accompanied by a
cold, chilling look, which cast a gloomy
shadow o'er some loving, sensitive
heart Perhaps it was one of malice.
envy, or deceit, and enkindled a bitter
r .V . . I ! I ll I:
ieeung oi rescucuieut w nicu win live
on anil on while memory lasts ; or it
may have liem a cheerful, pleasant.
loving worn, proceeding i roui a neai i
brimful of the purest kindness, which
fell like sweetest music on the listening
ear, touching a hidden chord in the
soul, which will ever resiHtud in strains
of love and hnrmonv. Perchance it
may have been a word of sympathy or
encouragement sjMiken in tenderest
accents, so that very word may have
scattered the clouds, dispelled the
gloom, and diffused sunshine into the
ieart well nigh crushed beneath its
burden of woe.
Words may seem but little things to
us, but they possess a power beyond
calculation. They swiftly rly from us
to others, and though we scarcely give
them a passing thought, their spirit
lives. Though they are as fleeting as
the breath that bore them, their influ
ence is as enduring as the heart they
reach. Ah! well may we guard our
lips, so that none grieve iu silence over
words that we have carelessly dropped.
ell may we strive to scatter loving.
cheering encouraging words to soothe
the weary, and awaken the nobler, finer
feelings ot those with whom we daily
come in contact. W ell may we endeavor
to use right words, for they are indeed
precious. How they endear each to
the other. Though they cost the
speaker nothing, they are more valu
able than diamonds, and shed a
brighter lustre on all around.
The Caltar.
Considering the object for which the
guitar has been adopted by all classes
of society in Spain, and more especially
in this light-hearted Malaga, namely,
that of serenading al ciel ueretto a fav
orite belle or a mere friend during the
still hours of a starry night, no instru
ment can compete with it for effect As
the serenader generally attended by
one or two friends to sing second or
as chorus enters ene of the aristo
cratic callra, to plant himself in front
of the palacio in whicn tne divinity
dwells, and sweeps his fingers over the
strings raxuuerandn, the soft sound
pervades the air, and breaks on the ear
with a pleasing thrill which must be
leard to be understood, lie continues
Itozeando on the strings, or as the Ital
ians say, arprgifimiUt, for a few min
utes, certain that by this time the har
monious sound has penetrated to the
intended nook within the abode and
awakened the favored inmate. Then a
tenor, a base, and a baritone are softly
combined with the sounds of the gui
tar, producing the effect of an opera
terzet accompanied by violini pizziuati.
To make sure that this melodious pre
lude has awakened from her slumbers
the adorata, the serenader now Btrikes
all the strings in a particular manner
gnrpeando, tapping the sounding board
at the same time witn tne nana lor two
or three minutes in the most hilarious
style. But now the risiag of the lower
half of a jalousie in an upper room,
through which a faint beam of light
appears, once more awakens the soft
arpeggios of the instrument, accom
panying the touching and imploring
seguidillas according as the intentional
theme ia required to be affectionately
tender or simply joyous, and with that
the serenade terminates. A utoliiogra
phyoDe Granville.
Basis KaowBolhing.
The man who groans over his poverty
without taking a step toward bettering
his condition, is justly regarded as a
good-for-nothing dunce. Had he sense,
the more desperate his fortunes, the
more energetic wonld be his attempts
to improve them. What is true of in
dividuals ia trne of classes. Business
may be dull just now, bnt the laws of
demand and supply exist as they al
ways have done. They may be operating
somewhat peculiarly at present but
the long-headed merchant or manufac
turer will study how they may be
turned to his benefit instead of croak
ing abont actual difficulties and imagin
ing others worse to come.
IatereatlBC Data.
We present below authentic informa
tion concerning the date of birth and
death, and other items connected with
the lives of the dead Presidents, in
connection with the date of birth and
the age of the ex-lresidents now living.
and the date of birth and the age of
the present incumbent of the Executive
Chair :
George Washington was born in
Virginia, February 22nd, 17:52. He
was unanimously elected to the Presi
dency in 178'J, re-elected in 179.1, and
died at Mount Vernon, December 14,
17W, aged 68.
John Adams was born at Braintree,
Mass., October 30, 1735; was elected
Vice-President in 17S'., re-elected in
17'j:i, and elected President in 1797.
He died July 4, 1S2U, aged 91, on the
fiftieth anniversary of American inde
pendence. Thomas Jefferson was born in Vir
ginia, April i:S, ltvtu. He drafted the
Declaration of Independence, while a
member of Congress, in In .". He was
elected Vice-President in 17!", elected
President in 1SUU, and re-elected in
1SI4; died July 4, 18t', aged 83. It
will be observed that both Adams and
Jefferson died on the same day July 4,
1821V.
James Madison, the "Father of the
Constitution," was born in Virginia,
March It), 17'1; was elected 1 'resident
iu 1S09, died June 2S, 18.'W, aged $.".
James Monroe was born in Virginia,
April 2, 17-V.t; was elected President in
lsiij; unanimously re-elected in 1821';
died July 4, 1S:U the lifty-Iii'th anni
versary of American independence
aged 72.
John Ojtiincy Adams was born iu
Braintree, Mass., July 11, 1707; was
elected President in 124, and served in
Congress from l.S.'W to 18fc"; died Feb.
21, 1S48, aged 81.
Andrew Jackson was lni in Smith
Carolina, March Pi, 1707; was elected
President iii 1828, re-elected in lSoi,
anil died June 8, 1845, aged 78.
Martin Van Buren was liorn at Kin
derhook. X. V., Ieceniber 5, 1782; was
elected Vice-President in ls:!2, elected
President in 1S'.; died July 21, 1S02,
aged 8ii.
William Henry Hamson was born
February 9, lTT-'S, in Virginia: was
elected President in 1840. and died on
April 4, 1841 just one month after his
inauguration.
John Tyler was born in Virginia,
March 29,1790; was elected President in
1840, succeeded to the Presidency upon
the death of President Harrison, died
January 17, 1802.
James K. Polk was born in Virginia,
in 1795; was elected President in 1844;
died June 15, 1849 a short time after
the expiration of his lresidential term.
Ziichary Taylor was born in Virginia,
November 24, 1784; was elected lresi
dent in 1818, died July 9, 1850.
Millard Filmore was born in Xew
York. January 7, 1800; was elected
Vice-President in 1840, and succeeded
to the Presidency upon the death of
President Taylor.
Franklin Pierce was boru at Ilills
boro, X. II., November 3, 1804; was
elected President in 1852, and died t H
tolier 8, 1809.
James Buchanan was born in Penn
sylvania, April 2nd, 1791; was elected
President in 18.1t; died June 8, lsV8.
Abraham Lincoln was born Febru
ary 12, I8tv, in Kentucky; was elected
President in lsiJU; was re-elected in
18T4. and died by assassination April
13, 18V5.
Andrew Johnson was born in North
Carolina, IVceniber 29, lsiiS; was elec
ted Vice-liesident in 1804, and suc
ceeded to the Presidency upon the
death of Mr. Lincoln. Mr. Johnson
succeeds Horace Maynard in the Uni
ted States Senate.
Ulysses S. Grant was born at Point
Pleasant, Ohio, April 27, 1822; was
elected President in ISun, and re
elected in 1872. He is the present
incumbent.
Virginia has been eight times repre
sented in the Executive Office.
Bireh Cangretutmen.
"Ad,' said Hirch at the San Francisco
Minstrels, "Ad. where's yonr brother
Kbenezerf I h'ain't seen him around
for a year or two.
'Ebenezcrl'' said Ryman.rellectively
"Elienezer has gone away for a few
yea rs."
"Anvthine haniM-ned to him f
"Well. yes. To tell you the truth.
Hillv. Llienezer fell into had haluts. lie
lost that tine perception which euahles
a man to distinguish between his own
proiierty and that of his fellows, so that
lie forgot himself at times and became
alisorptive to that degree that he
scooped in, as it were, any little port
able article he came across, no matter
to whom it lielouged.
"Your narrative grieves me. said
fiin-li. "It lacerates me deeply to know
that Elieuezer should have so lost his
memory, and I should think it would
have made trouble."
"It did," said Ad. "The people called
in the lMtlice. hbeticzcr protested at
the trial that his prosecutors were try
ing to blackmail him. but the judge
said that Ebenezt-r had Itcen sU-almg,
and he sent him to State Prison for
five years. By the way, Kirch, I have
not seen your brother Eliphalet fir a
year or two. I do sincerely trust noth
ing has happened to Elildialet"
"Liph!' said Birch, "Liph's all right.
He went to Congrejis a collide o' years
ago, ami lie's stealiu' yet."
rerronsea.
Our fair readers may lie interested
to learn where, for the most part, the
flowers grow the sweet perfumes of
which are found in thiwe pretty tl aeons
on their dressing-tables. The chief
places of their growth are the south of
France and Piedmont namely, ilont
pellier, (irasse. Ximes, Cannes, and
N'ice ; these two last especially are the
paradise of Violets, and furnish a yearly
product of alxmt l.l.imo lbs. of Violet
blossoms. Nice produces a harvest of
lOO.ooO lbs. of Orange blossoms, ami
Cannes as much again, and of a finer
color; 500 lbs. of Orange blossoms yield
about 'J Hw. of pure Xeroli oil. At
Cannes the Acacia thrives well, and
produces yearly aliout 9,000 lbs. of
Acacia blossoms. One great perfumery
distillery at Cannes uses yearly 14O,0uu
11. of Orange blossoms, 140.000 lbs. of
Rose leaves, 32,000 lbs. of Jessamine
blos-ioms, 2i,00 lbs. of Violets, and
8,0iio lbs. of Tulieroses; together with a
great many other sweet herl. The
extraction of the ethereal oils, the
small quantities of which are mixed in
the dowers with such large quantities
other vegetable juices that it requires
about CU) lbs. of Kose leaves to win
one ounce of otto of Hoses, demands a
very careful treatment. The French,
favored by their climate, are the most
active, although not always the most
careful preparers of perfumes ; hall of
the world is furnished by this branch
of their industry. . .
"War ia a game which, were subjects
wise, kings wonld not play at" It costs
three thousand millions of dollar a
year to support the armies of Europe.
lOlTHH COLO.
Chip !
I knew an old cmrp that Ht1 in a wood "
chipi, -liii.iiv, cbip !
And np in a tre-tp ttielr dwelling it t'.od
'tiip-rw. chii'wrt chip !
Ttw summer it .-am, and tit Mimmer a wt
Cbipp-r, cblpprw?, 'Uip !
And there tb-T lirrd on. aut s)-y uvr paid rent-
cWperea. clUjwr. ... chip
Thfir parlor waa linr 1 with the aofteK of
I'hiiiirw. t-lumwre. t-lilD !
In it kiteaen wu arm. Mid thru- pantry waa rau
l:hiiiM-iM. rhit.ijfl
And four UtUe Imuim. p-m-ped oat at Hm k j
', i-uip :
I hipiwrt-f, cuii'i-t-r-. entp :
Ifoa neTer am darl-ntr tk pretty and -u-r-
Chip-tr- e, chippf rce. chip !
Now winter raroe on wtth ttti frnet and its snow
Cliii'r.e. chiMrt-e. -lnp !
They cared n a bit whe4i they hmrd tne wind Mow
Cnil-t-t-ree, chlppcree, chip !
For, wrapped ill their fu.a. tlii-y all lay down to
aleru-
Chipperee, chipperee, chip !
But, oh. in tlx prlu bow incur bright eyaa will
peep!
Cbipperee, cbipperr-e, chip t
Deserving Boys. We like boys who
help themselves. Every one ought to
be friendly to them. The boys of
energy and ambition, who make manly
efforts to do something for themselves,
are the hope of the country. Let their
anxious ears catch always words of en
couragement and cheer, for such words,
like favoring breezes to the sails of a
ship, help to bear them on to the des
tination they seek.
It is not always as it should be in
this respect Many a heart has been
broken many a young man of indus
try, and animated with honorable mo
tives, has been discouraged by the sour
words and harsh and unjust remarks of
some unfeeling employer, or some rela
tive who should have acted the part of
a friend. The unthinking do not con
sider the weight with which such re
marks sometimes fall upon a sensitive
spirit, and how they may bruise and
break it
If you cannot do anything to aid and
assist young men, you ought to abstain
from throwing any obstacles in their
way. lint can you not do sometning
to help them forward ? You can at
least say J 'God speed" to them, and
you can say it feelingly from yonr
heart Yon little know of how much
benefit to boys and young men encour
aging counsel, given fitly and well
timed, may be ; and in the great day
of account such words addressed to
those in need of them you may find
reckoned among your good deeds.
Then help the boys who try to nelp
themselves. You can easily recall sim
ple words of kindness addressed to
yourself in your childhood and youth,
and you would like now to kiss the lips
that spoke them though they may long
since have been sealed with the silence
of death, and covered by the clods of
the grave.
Ai.moxds asd Peaches. What a dif
ference education can make, to be sure !
Not but an almond is just as fine in its
way as a peach, bnt then it isn t the
same thing by a good deal.
That is, it isn't and it is.
The schoolmistress has been reading
aloud out of a book written by a cele
brated naturalist, in which he plaiuly
says that the peach-tree has been edu
cated out of the almond tree.
In the almond the large, sweet ker
nel, in its soft, smooth shell, is covered
with a thin, dry, tough flesh that is not
good for food. In the peach the small
bitter kernel, in a hard rough shell, is
covered with a thick, soft, juicy flesh,
which you boys think so delicious. And
it is only education, or culture, or
training with a view to improvement
that has made all the diilereuce. As
tonishing ; isn't it ?
Some almor ds are most excellent and
I think you boys and girls wonld not
like to see them all turned into peaches.
You need not feel uneasy, however ;
the peach-almond at the start waa a
very bitter affair ; miserable for an
almond and worse for a peach. It
needed the bringing np it has had, to
make it worth anything.
Sociai. Birds. It ia wonderful how
the birds love the companionship of
men. Even the Indian recognizes this
liking, and puts np his gourd shell for
the purple martin ; the colored man of
the South in like manner sets np a
calabash, while in our villages are seen
martin houses, often evincing taste in
their construction. But the American
swallows formerly kept aloof from men,
and in the far west the martin still, as
of old, builds in hollow trees. Home
of our migratory birds are seen with ns
in the winter. This is explained, I
think, by the agricultural habits of
men. Wherever agriculture flourishes,
so will insects, and the fields of the
husbandman are thus attractive to the
birds who come thither with their sweet
voices and good deeds. Now this fact
does, I think, in time greatly modify
the migration impulse. The blue-bird
ia a frequent visitor of our gardens in
winter, thongh not in large numbers.
He now finds his food in the larvie of
those insects which are the pests of the
farm : and it ia pleasant to watch him
DeeniDg around palings and nnder
ledges and rails for this food.
Birds have a great fear of death. A
hen canary belonging to the author
died while nesting, and was bnried.
The surviving mate was removed to
another cage ; the breeding cage itself
was thoroughly punned, clean sea ana
nut aside till the next spring. Xever
afterward, however, could any bird en
dure to be in that cage. The little
creatures fought and struggled to get
out, and if obliged to remain they
huddled close together and moped and
were thoroughly unhappy, refusing to
be comforted by Ly amount oi sun
shine or dainty food. The experiment
was tried of introducing foreign birds.
who were not in the house when the
eanarv died, nor could, by any possi
bility, have heard of her through other
canaries. The result was the same ; no
bird would live in that cage. 1 he cage
was haunted, and the author was
obliged to desist from all further at
tempts to eoax or force a bird to stay
in it Athemrum.
Emerald and Pear In.
A Paris letter says: For evening wear
pearls and precious stones are alone in
vogue. Coral, Roman gold, and other
less costly ornaments are no longer worn.
The emeralds of the Duchess d'Arco,
which she wore at the ball of the Elysee
lately (she is the individual who was
pointed out to me as a Russian Princess
and whose jewelry was recently men
tioned) are valued at $500.(nio. The
Duchess of Medini-Cu-li poesesesa pearl
necklace which isafamily heirloom. It
is composed of twelve or fourteen strings
of large and beautiful pearls, ana vaiueu
at $400,000. When she wears it the
upjier string fits around her throat,
while the lowest falls below her waist"
"Dear Tom come immediately if
you see this. If not come on Sunday.
This difficult invitation appears aa a
personal in the London Timet.
Better run in
in debt
old clothes than ran
TitirriE.
The fare thing. A horse car ticket
A winter suit The close of the
canals.
Woman hood a bonnet Man hood
a hat
A poor relation Telling an anecdote
badly.
Why is a man who lets houses likely
to have a good many cousins ? Because
he has ten-ants.
It seems as if it would make com
positors howl to discover that there is
only one em in a poem..
Four toddies down a man's throat
these cold days won't warm him np half
so mnch as a single hot punch on the
nose.
So many women leave their manners
at home when they go out it is a
wonder that their bltle children do not
pick up soma.
"Is there any man in this town
named Afternooa ?" inquired a Missis
sippi postmaster as be held np a letter
directed "P. M."
Tom Hood, at Lord Mayor's dinner.
once leaned back at about the middle
of the feast, and requested the waiter
ts bring him the rest in money.
To ensure perfect ventilation, from
two thousand to three thousand cubic
of air should be allowed to pass through
a chamber every hour for each person
sleeping or living in it
This world would be a sandy desert
o: .onesomeness if women were not
privileged to attend auction sales and
pay more for an old bureau than a new
chamber set would cost Detroit Free
Pre.
"J. Gray Pack with my box five
dozen quills. There is nothing re
markable about this sentence only that
it is nearly as short as can be con
structed and yet contain all the letters
of the alphabet '
Said she : "How long ar yon going
to stand before that glass : ''Said he :
"Unt l I see how my ulster hangs.
Bnt that's just the way ; a woman never
takes any interest in her hnsband's
dress after she's been married a year."
When a Swampoodle woman detects
her husband "walking crooked" down
the street she doesn't get mad about it
but thoughtfully observes to her com
panion : "Jtne, I shouldn't wonder if
it was an earthquake makes John walk
that way.
The destruction of the forests in
Southern Indiana has approached such
dimensions as to excite serious alarm
among the resident population, who
have to travel forty to fifty miles every
time they catch a horse thief, in order
to find a tree high enough to hang him
on.
A Shakespeare relic of a singularly
curious kind has come to light It ia a
fragment of an edition of the first part
of "Henry the Fourth," anterior to the
one of 15'JS, which has hitherto been
always considered the first impression.
The text of this fragment preserves a
word which has been accidentally omit
ted in all the subsequent editions.
Many a child, and woman too, would
be safer walking with bare feet through
wet grass, than walking in tewn in
shoes supposed to be water tight
They are not cold-tight ; and it is not
water on the sole of the foot or any
where else which harms people, but
the chill which water induces, and
which is as injurious through the sole
of the foot as through the chest or
loins.
Anna Dickson describes the new so
ciety bow. as executed by Washington
ladies, bhe says that to bend the head
except to acknowledge superiors, is
out of fashion. The lady looks coolly
in the face, smiles as sweetly as she
can, and gently inclines ner neau
toward the right shoulder, with a little
backward movement at the same time.
A slight Frenchy shrug heightens the
effect
Lady Barker, in a recent work, gives
her idea of a model boy as follows : "If
I could make a model boy, I'll tell you
what he should be like. He should
love cold water and hate a lie. He
should be frank and unsuspicious aa
becomes a noble, trusting nature, and
yet he should be neither silly nor soft
He should have plenty ol manias, tie
should have an appetite like a wolf, for
I should wish him to be tall and strong:
but he must not be a bit greedy. He
should have a fine, sweet temper, yet
he should be as the Yankee song says,
'an orkered man in a row, and he should
know how to take care of himself with
his fists.
There was a panic in a Paris street
over the conduct of a magnificent re
triever in front of a window of a dealer
in picture frames. He jumped yelled,
barked, tried to throw himself through
the glass ; and he was mad, of course.
They were about to kill him but a phi
losopher interfered. It seemed to him
that all these eccentricities of the dog
had relation to a portrait in the window.
So it proved. AH this was joy at sight
of the portrait of a lady. That lady
lived in Marseilles, and the dog had
been stolen from her many months be
fore. Strange chance to find its war
home by the picture placed there casu
ally to exhibit the frame.
An alloy of copper, prepared as fol
lows, is capable of attaching itself
firmly to the surface of metal, glass
and porcelain. From 20 to 30 parts of
finely divided copper (obtained by the
reduction of oxide of copper with hy
drogen, or by precipitation from solu
tion of its sulphate with zinc)are made
into a paste with oil of vitroL Seventy
parts of mercury are then added, the
whole being well triturated. When
the amalgamation is complete the acid
is removed by washing with boiling
water, and the compound is allowed to
cool. In ten or twelve hours it becomes
sufficiently hard to receive a brilliant
polish, and to scratch the surface of
tin or gold. By heat it assumes the
consistence of wax, and as it does not
contract on cooling, it is also useful to
dentists for stopping teeth.
A discovery interesting to archaeolo
gists has just been made at Constantino,
Algeria. On Jan. 17 some workmen in
digging the foundatian of a house cams
upon two nne fragments oi mosaic.
evidently forming part of one design.
The first represents a boat in wmcn are
three figures, which appear to be gazing
with astonishment npon a scene being
enacted on the coast they approach
namely, on one aide a lion figbting with
a bull, and on the other a horse fleeing
ia terror. The second is more fanciful
and elaborate, consisting of flowers,
vases and dolphins, arranged in a pat
tern formed of medallions. Very likely
other treasures may now be discovered
in the same spot and so great is the
curiosity created by these that the
workmen have been mnch hindered in
their labors. The mosaics will be for
warded to the Archat dogical Society of
Algiers.