' , A' 4 i 111 '. v-';'. ti. ' ' "4 '(- ' . ' B. F. SCHWEIER, ' 1 ' THE CONSTITUTION TBI ONION AND THK INfORCEMEST OF THB LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. YOL. XXX. NO. IS. A MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA.. MAY" 3. 1876. i i n WILD ROSES. bt zdqab Tiwcrrr. On lone serene midsummer days Of ripening fruit and yellowed grain. How aweetlr. br dim woodland way. In tangled hedge or leafy lane. Fair wild rose thickets, too unfold Those pale pink stars with hearts of gold ! Tonr sleek patrician sisters dwell On lawns where gleams the shrubs trim bosk. In terraced gardens, tended well. Near pebbled walk and quaint kiosk. In costliest urus their colors rest ; They beam on beauty's fragrant breast ! But yon in lowly calm abide, Scarce heeded sara by breeze or bee ; Ton know what splendor, pomp, and pride Full oft your brilliant sisters see ; What sorrow, too. and bitter fears ; What mad farewells and hopeless tears ! How some are kept in old. dear books. That once in bridal wreaths were worn ; How some are kissed, with tender looks. And later tossed aside with scorn ; now some their taintless petals lay On icy foreheads pals as, they ! So, while these truths you vaguely guess. Abloom in many a lonesome spot, Shy roadside roses, may you bless The fate that rules your modest lot. Like rustic maids that meekly stand Below the ladies of their land I Atlantic Monthly. Patience Rewarded. Andrew Hogan had been an opulent farmer, and out rented a large tract of land; his dwelling was situated close by the Ohio river. With the view of increasing his wealth, be went into the speculation of cattle, and quickly lost the fruits of long year? of industry. He did not quite lose bone, however, but rented a small farm, and endeavored by patient toil to retrieve bis altered for tune. Iu vain te struggled to sustain himself; the times were dull, there was no business doing, for the country was slowly and painfully recovering from a money panic, and Andrew Hogan, for a second time, was compelled to give up bis home. He bad an only daughter, a girl of some sixteen years of age, named Ann. She had been ot great service to her father in managing his bouse, for Hogan's wife died when Ann was four teen, and young as she was, she was able to direct and control the domestic aflairs of the farm, and save her father many a dollar by her foresight and pru dence, Andrew Hogan was walking the floor with rapid steps, and his daughter was sitting at a table engaged in sewing. "We shall have to leave here Ann," he said, "and I scarcely know what we are to do. Perhaps it would be best for you to marry William Tender, and gain yourself a home. I have been selfish in opposing the matter heretofore; but I yield now, so you can convey the intel ligence to William as you see best." Ann Hogan raiseu ner eyes sorrow fully to father's face. "Must you leave this place?" she asked. ."Is there no wav to remain?" ".None that I know," replied her father, "except that I raise money enough to continue farming until times be4-ouie better; and to-day 1 could not command a hundred dollars if my sal vation depended upon it." The conversation between Ann and her father here terminated, and Hogan put on bis hat and walked out to cool his fevered brow. When William Tender heard from Ann's lips the story of her father's trouble, he patted his sweetheart's cheek and told her to give herself no more concern than was necessary. "The small fortune my father left me," he said, "I have very much increased, and now that we are going to be married, 1 will purchase the place where you re side, and your father and I will try what we can do to make things pay." So Andrew Hogan unexpectedly dis covered that there would be no occasion for him to move, and in less than a month his daughter was married to William Tender, and they were all snugly living under the same roof. It seemed, however, as if misfortune had marked the Uogans for victims. Dur ing the first year of her marriage, Ann's father met with a painful accident while plowing. It was considered trifling enough at first, but bad symptoms be gan to manifest themselves after a few weeks, and before thirty days had etapsed Andrew Hogan was dead. Had her troubles ended here, poor Ann would no doubt have been gratefui ; but her husband, soon after her father's death, started away on horseback and never returned. The tact of his having quite a sum of money on his person gave rise to the suspicion that he was mur dered. Before six months was gone Ann Tender was deranged. She used to spend her days in searching the neighborhood for her - husband, her mind being impressed with the idea that Willie was lost. She would go from neighbor to neighbor solicitli.g money, that she might employ men to search for him. Thus years passed away, and Aim Tender's mind never recovered its wonted strength.- Her husband had left enough money to sup port her comfortably, and the authori ties placed her in charge of a family who kindiv attended to her wants. Anout a mile from Ann's old home lived Franklin Morton, a man who was very wealthy and who lived in excel lent style. In early days he had mar ried the daughter of a farmer, who bore him one child named Margaret. When Margaret was seven yea's old her mother died, and when she entered her twenti eth year her grandfather died, and be queathed to her bis entire estate, which was very large. The fact was, Marga ret's wealth exceeded that or her par ents, and of course she had an abundance of suitors, and among them one Walter - Clark. W ho and what he was, does not signify. He was in love with Maggie Morton, and she reciprocated his feel ings. Her father, who had high no tions of his daughter's inarTying, com manded her to have nothing to do with Clark, and never to dare think of mar rying him. But women are obstinate in cases like these, and, notwithstanding the threats of her father, Maggie Mor ton refused to discard her lover. This act of disobedience roused ail the latent ire in her father's heart. "Would you marry one," he sneered, without a dollar in his pocket, and never likely to have one, as he has no business?" "Yes," replied Maggie with spirit; "if he were a beggar 1 would wed him, for 1 love him. When I become of age I shall have more than enough for both of us, and as that period is not very remote, I imagine we will be able to await it with patience." To say that Mr. Morton watched bis daughter with lynx-eyed vigilance, would but faintly express the exceeding care he took to keen Maggie- and her lover from meeting each other. But of course they did meet, and no amount of . careful watchingcould prevent it. some little distance from Mr. Morton's bouse there was a grove, and just beyond this rosea mound or bill which commanded a good view for the distance of a mile. It was in this grove that the lovers used to hold their clandestine interviews. But the occasions when Maggie could meet her lover were so uncertain, that he would sometimes seek the rendezvous for days at a time before he met her. One morning he was seated in the grove awaiting her when he saw a female form on the mound. In an instant he was hastening to the spot under the supposition that it was Maggie, but when he arrived there no one was to be seen. Disappointed and heart-sick he turned away. For several mornings the same thing occurred, and Clark be gan to be perplexed and very nervous. At length, however, Maggie was able te meet him, and he forthwith related to her what he had witnessed. She was as much confounded as himself, but they soon forgot the subject In talking over their own affairs. Not long afterwards poor Ann Tender went to Mr. Morton s house, and re quested him to give her some money, that she might employ men to search for her missing huaLaiid. At first Mr. Morton spoke kindly to the poor crea ture, though he refnsed ber request; but when she became clamorous in her demand, be treated her rudely, and ordered his servants to see her off the place. . . . "And you refuse the supplication of the widow ?" she screamed. "You do, hey ? Well, I curse you, and the time shall coHie when you will lose your daughter, and you shall seek ber and not find her." . These were the parting words of Ann Tender. " Some little time after this when Clark and Maggie Morton were holding oneof their stolen Interviews in tne grove, Ann Tender was lurking near at band. Maggie was telling her lover that she could only spend a few moments in his society on account of the scrutiny that was exercised over her movements. "And is this to last forever?" asked Clark in a mournful tone. "Are we to meet and scarcely .say two words of welcome .before we say. good-bye to meet again we know not when? "Be patient, Willie," answered Mar garet, "when I have a right to my for tune, if my father is still opposed to our union, I will marry you w ithout any longer delay." "Yes," replied Clark, "and the world will call me a fortune hunter." "What will that signify?" said Mar garet. "I know you are not; and that is enough for me." "Corses on yon both." shouted a voice from the bushes, and a stoul wo man in a tatter! and faded dress stood before them. "I have discovered you, have I ? I'll away and give the infor mation, and perhaps he'll give me the money," and in an instant the woman had darted off. . . "Tis crazy Ann," Maggie called to Clark, who w as pursuing the creature. "She is harmless." "But she will go and inform your father," said Clark. "Never fear," replied Maggie, "she will . do nothing of the kind." But Maggie Morton was mistaken. Ann Tender hastened to her father and re lated the conversation she had overheard in the grove, but Mr. Morton, failing to give her money, the woman railed against him as she had previously done, aud was again turned off the grounds. For long days Clark waited in vain for Maggie to apiear; and was not aware of the terrible scene that had occurred between the father air! daugh ter, when Maggie openly admitted that she had been meeting ber lover. Some time after w hen Clark was wait ing in the grove in the hoe of meeting Maggie, poor Ann Tender appeared be fore him. "I have done a thing," she said, "which makes me sleepless. I gave the wound, I will heal the wound. I did the mischief, I will repair it. I know vour trouble. Write a note, and Ann Tender will deliver it. Safely and quickly too." Clark was deceived as many are de ceived by a mad person's temporary re turn to reason, and agreed, to meet her in an hour with a letter for Maggie. But he more than half repented liaving done so, when at the sight of the letter Ann Tender's wildnesg returned. It was too late, however, for she was gone in a moment, clutching the note tightly in her hand. "I was a fool to trust her," mur mured Clark. "She will give the letter to Mr. Morton." He was mistaken, however. The next day the poor creature met him with a reply from Margaret. She had man aged to crawl under Miss Morton's window unobserved, and deliver Clark's note and receive a reply. The letter of Maggie gave him some thing to ponder on. She directed him to keep himself concealed, and see that a report was circulated that he bad left the country. That at nights he could repair to a", certain hollow tree in the grove and search for letters, and when it was necessary to communicate with him she would send him some impor tant instructions. For two months William Clark kept himself concealed, and only ventured out at night to seek the grove in hopes of receiving a letter At length he was rewarded. A hurried note told him that her father was satis fied that he had left the country, and she was not so closely guarded as be fore. She, moreover, told him to watch for ber on the third morning after he saw a small fire kindled on the mound. The third morning afterward, he was at his post, and Maggie appeared on horse back. "To-day I am twenty-one," she ex claimed, as she threw herself into her lover's arms. " . - - . " , "Will you-fly with me?" asked Clark. "There is no occasion to flee," replied Miss Morton, "but I will marry you. Get a horse and we will ride to town." William Clark required no second bidding; he was soon on his way to a neighboring town where he made Mar garet Morton his wife. In the mean time a large company of friends had assembled at Mr. Morton's bouse in honor of Maggie coming into her fortune. As soon as her absence was discovered, Mr. Morton was fairly frantic and with the guests began to search the country for the absent one. "Ha! ha! ha!" cried the voice ot Ann Tender, "did I not tell you that you would lose your daughter, aud not find her? .And now again I curse you, nor will I aid you to seek her." The consternation ot Mr. Morton and Lis friends was indescribable when night came, but Margaret came not with it. . The following day a letter from bis daughter solved the mystery. She was married to William Clark, whom he supposed to be thousands of miles away. Jt was some time before thee. baffled parent could Forgive liis daughter. At taorevcri:Ulweriiiifaafr resist ance waijiot only; useless,, but ridictM lous. be consented to receive the delin quents. - - ' Grateful for ' the service that Ann Tender bad done them, Mr. and Mrs. Clark had the poor creature placed under the best medical men, and were re warded by seeing her . completely re cover ber reason. .." , " An Indiana eigar-maker claims tlia he can turn out his 30,000 a month. . Wild From Paris the other day came a story, half grotesque, half revolting, of a cruelly ingenious abowman to whom there had occurred the idea of fretting up a Liliputian exhibition of tiger-taming. He procured four cats, whose bodies he painted orange-tawny, with black stripes so as to be closely imita tive of the hide of felis tigrvt, and then he engaged a little boy, who, clad in tights and spangles, was to enact the part of beast tamer, but who, prior to his appearance in public, was shut np in a cage with the cats and instructed to reduce them to subjection and j teach them a variety of tricks by means of rigorous chatisenient. If, however, the poor little tiger king was provided with a switch, the four Liliputian ti gers had been endowed by nature with a due complement of claws ; and they so worried and tore the unfortunate lad that, had he not been able to make his escape from the cage, fatal results might have followed. He ran shrieking 'into the street, pursued by his master; but the police interfered, and the Cor rectional Tribunal may possibly have something very serious to say to the barbarous promoter of Liliputian tiger-taming exhibitions. Scarcely, how ever, has the echo of this affair died away ere we hear of two very alarming accidents which have occurred to a pair of wild-beast tamers of some no toriety in France. At Havre, the lion king liidel has had a sufficiently, nar row escape from a horrible death. ' It was this performer's custom to go into the cage of 'his wild beasts, -bearing with him a sheep, which, -through the awe inspired by Lis presence, was kept safe from molestation on the part of the ferocious inmates of the den. On a recent occasion he entered the lion's cafe, and nlaced the sheen oo the hack of tl-e lions a feat which he had ofteat before accomplished with perfect safe ty. No sooner, however, had he done this than a hoge lion sprang upon the unfortunate sheep, burying bis teeth in its body. There was a general com motion and panic among the crowded audience, but the undaunted Bidell stepped forward, ,aud' with a: h.eavy bludgeon dealt Leo such a tremendous blow over the jaws that the beast, ut tering a yell of pain, was completely cowed, abandoned his bleeding victim, and crouched banibly at the feet of his master. The sight. and smell of the blood of the sheep were, however, too much for wild beast nature to bear. The other deniiens of the cage began to howl in an omnious wanner, and with singular unanimity of teeth and daws ther attacked Monsieur Btdel, even as Mr. William Nyeweut at the Heathen Chinee. The beast tamer, not a whit terrified, chased the first lion iu to -another cage,' fought bis wav through the remaining brutes, v and. rescuing his wounded sheep, issued from the den. "' Another accident to a lion tamer oc curred, in Taris, at the theater of the Folies Bergeres, where one Del monico has gained great popularity, as a queller of wild beasts; but acci dents will happen in the best regulated dens, and on Monday a highly trained lioness got her instructor into a corner and severely mangled one of his hands. There was tremendous excitement among the audience, and the curtain was let down. A few moments after wards (he report of a musket was beard, which, of course, caused the agitation of the public to grow more intense. Tranquility, however, was restored w hen Deliiiooico made bis appearance at the footlights, apparently none the worse for his encounter with the lio ness. Now it is quite probable that in the account ot both ot these casoaiities there may remain something to be read between the lines. Wild-beast tamers must necessarily be men of unflinching courage, and of unerring presence of mind ; but they are likewise, as a rule, something else tbey are showmen ; and the mnsket-shot may have been a meneovpde theatre. In any case it is understood that tbe. Taris police have prohibited any future performances on the part of Delmonico; nor is it unlike ly that these always dangerous and frequently fatal exhibitions will be de finitely surpressed by tbe law through out the whole of France. London Tel egraph, . . T St. Peter's Ckalr. The "Chair of St- Teter," which has been spoken of and known to Christen dom for a long time, was placed by Da mascus in the baptistry of the Vatican, aud even previous to that age it is prob able that up to that period it may have been kept in the crypt of St. Teter's tomb or in the basilica of Constantino ple. It was moved from the chapel of the Vatican before the days Of Alexan der VII., who enclosed it in a bronze monument. It is a yellow chair, formed ot four uprights united by horizontal bars, two being higher than the others to form the back. The four legs were evidently one square, but they are much eaten away by age, and have aUq had pieces cut from them. These time worn portions have been strengthened and rendered more ornamental by pieces of dark acacia wood, which form the whole interior part of the chair, and which appears to have hardly suffered at all from the same causes which have so al tered the appearance of the legs. The panels, fronts, and sides, and the row of arches with the tympanum above them, which form the back, are also composed of this wood.- But the most remarkable circumstance about these two different kinds of materials is that all the ivory ornaments which cover ihe front and back of the chair are at tached to the acacia portion 'alone, and never to the parts composed of oak. Some of the ornamentation is attribu ted to the ' age of Charlemagne, and some, such as tbe labors of Hercules, iu the ivory panels, are more ancient; the oak work is deemed likely to be as old as tradition states it to be. Hallways at the Betteaa T the Sea. When railroads on land were " first talked of the projectors were credited with being visionary enthusiasts. What then, is likely to be thought of those who seriously propose to have railways under the sea. A submarine carriage of a most ingenious construction has recently been invented 'id Taris to cross the channel, and for navigating deep rivers and canals. The carriage is of galvanized iron, and is hermeti cally sealed. As its lightness compared with surrounding water, would cause it at once to rise to the surface, it is at tached to a heavy eight-wheeled .truck, which runs on a line of rails laid dowu under the ocean. It is not fastened so securely, however, but that, in the event of an accident, it ; could - be at ouce detached and allowed to ascend to tne open air, when it would be easy to make for the nearest port. , The motive power is supplied by two screws driven by compressed air. An enormous quan tity of air is distributed through the interior la numerous pipes, for the ben efit of the screw, and passengers. We might enter still farther into details, and describe the electric light ' at the bows, which is to Illuminate both the road and the Interior of tbe vessel ; the entrance for the passengers, hermeti cally sealed when all are aboard; the Strong glass windows, out of which any one may see the marvels of the 'deep; the raft carried on the roof, and the diver's chamber at the stern. Jfass facturer's Trade Journal. would fetch litterallv any price as a curiosity. Fashion, too, has a good deal to do -with these things. Some few: years ago the Trincessof Wales took to wearing sapphires, and a de mand for sapphire parure sprang np at once. Sapphires, of course, rose enor mously in value, but they have -since. we believe fallen almost to their old f trice. It is said that the next stone ikely to come into fashion will be the jacinth, and that forseeing the proba bilities of this, the . leaning ionaon jewelers are "making a corner," as Americans call it, in jacinth, by buying them up and putting them oy, in tne serene assurance that the money thus lying idle will ultimately earn Its Inter est and a good deal more. When the time comes at last jacinths will be no prettier than they are at present, out their value will, for the time being, be doubled or quadrupled. London Exam iner. - . . Paklle Art Uallerles. 4 One cause of the slow growth of art sentiments and art knowledge among Americans was the absence, even in the larger cities, of public and private galleries of paintings like those to which the people of every European city have constant access, and where they may become- acquainted with the works of the great masters of almost every age and. country. Xt late years these opportunities have notably increased among us. . Wealthy citizens of New iork, rhiiaueipuia, .Boston, washing- ton, Cincinnati, and other cities have accumulated extensive and valuable private galleries of the best works of native and foreign artists, and have evinced commendable liberality in open ing their doors to the public. There also fine paintings and statuary be longing to societies, like the Boston Athensum, aud our own Historical So ciety ; but to most of these the general public cannot claim admission, and their usefulness as a means of art cult ure iSjj therefore;. comperitively". restric ted. There should be in every large city a public gallery; a in Taris, Berlin, Munich, iiiuon,' uresuen, riorenoe, and other European cities to which, on certain days of the week, access should be free to all. The influence of such institutions would be immense. There is many a working-man in Taris who knows more about pictures and statues than the majority of cultivated people in this country. He visits freely the magnificent galleries of Louvre, hears the artists and connoiseursconverse.and ifbeisa man of ordinary intelligence and perception, he acquires a knowledge of pictures aud artists which cannot ha attained in a country where sucli oppor tunities sue rare, pr only to be enjoyed either by paying for them or by the favor of some private collector. True, tbe want of public art galleries has in a measure been supplied, in most of our large cities, by the collections ot art dealers like Suhaus and Goupil. who of late. years have imported many -of the finest specimens ol tbe works of foreign artists, and who admit the public to their . exhibition rooms : without fee. But this privilege is, for the most part. confined to the educated and wealthy. Karely is a working-man or working woman seen in these rooms, althougn no respectable ot -wellbehaved person would be denied admission. Enter the galleries of Taris, Munich, or Dresden, on a holiday and you will find hundreds of people belonging to the working classes, men, women," and children, feastinz their eves on the treasures ot of art, and filling their minds with love for the beautiful, the refining Influ ence of such an education can not be overvalued. A Persian Balk. Having undressed, you enter a room perfumed with rose essence. It is hand somely decorated, the floor and walls being of white marble, inlaid with black arabesques. ' Inserted into the walls on both sides are large marble tanks filled with water, of perhaps one hundred and ten degrees. ' Three stout Mohammedans now take you in charge, pouring water from large chatties over your bead and body, placing you in a comfortable chair and bringing you a glass of water to drink. After a few minutes rest your feet and hands are rubbed with a piece of burned brick very much rougher than sand paper. Then, being laid backward upon the floor at full length, the shampooing begins. This is performed by one man, who pulls and kneads and twists and stretches and pounds you into various devices of his own conception, aud fi nally puts you together into a shape which you feel to be but a vague ap proximation to that you originally pos sessed. Then come soaping and scrub bing, differing from those given In tbe Turkish or .Russian Dato,, the operator wearing mittens of coarse twined stitched cloth, while attendants drench you with hot water from small-spouted metal pitchers, producing a singula but not disagreeable titillation. A bar ber then entering, you are shaved in true Hindoo fashion sitting cross leg ged. Your hair is then dressed with a rich, gloss-producing compound, named basin, which surpasses most western pomades, and consists mainly or pul verized orange peel and flour made from peas. The bath finishes with rinsing and drying, the smoking ;t a pipe, and the sipping of a small cup of coffee. Even-thing is so deliberate that the time occupied is two hours ; but on tbe whole the Persian does not equal tbe lurklsn or even the Russian bath, nor is the shampooing so exbilirating or soothing; and in no bath that I know of are the rubbing and percussion processes at all comparable to the Hawaiian lomi-loml. Ihrougn ana Jhrough the Iroptc. Cal Hale Methods to be used in case of pres sing danger on shipboard in order to arrest the now of water into tne nun, have long since attracted attention. One well-known plan is to lower a sail, and by means of ropes to apply it at the place of rupture. A seriesof inter esting experiments ,' has.' been lately made by the English Government at Key ham Yards with what are called "collision mats". Pieces of canvas are sewed together, and, being made water proof, and having had ropes properly attached to them, are lowered into the water. Tbe ex perunent made were not, however, conclusive in their character. Although tbe exact location of the flow of water had been ascertained, the pres sure of the water in some cases partly carried in the ' canvas, and scarcly checked the flow. lit case of an actual accident,, where . the locality of the ruptured portion or the hull could not be discovered, the difficulty of applying the collision-mat in exactly the proper place would be even more uncertain. Tke EdlUr aad the tSlraSTe. An editor was seated in a lofty tower writing an article on "Sweet William.", when a giraffe, who was passing along tbe street, poked in his head in at the the window and raven ously swallowed tbe coot. with every manifestation of delight. Tbe editor fled precipitately to the beer saloon in the basement and after quaffing a mug of ale discovered that he had left his pocket book upstairs and did not know the barkeeper who had served him. Moral-Thua we see the folly of going to extremes. -.- Saved ky Esaetlea. ' The frequenters of the Parisian Opera were lately attracted by the rare beauty of a young lady, whose presence was remarked at every representation. Her eves were superb, her form ex quisite, ber complexion rivaled the lily and her tresses, dark as night, fell on ber shoulders in large waving masses, This beautiful girl was always accom panied by a diminutive, strange-looking man, with a complexion the color of saffron, and who resembled a resuscitated mummy, so closely did his skin stick to his sharp bones. - How old was be ? No one could tell; ' he might be thirty-five, or be might be ninety, it was soon known that they were East Indians that they came from Calcutta, and were father and daughter. The father carried about on his per son the signs of his opulence; five or six enormous diamonds glittering on his skeleton fingers, and on the em broidered bosom .of bis shirt. The ex travagant splendor of his ornaments contrasted strangely with the simplicity of his daughter's costume. A dress of white muslin, confined at the waist with a green ribbon, was all she wore ; nothing more, not the smallest article of jewelry no necklace, bracelet, nor ear-rings. The most refined coquetery could not have struck out a better style. The poor man was a nabob. Immensely rich, and dying with Asiatic spleen. He was gradually sink ing away with languor, and his Indian doctors had sent bira to Europe in the nope or saving nis are. But his chance was a poor oue; ror Europe is dull, and her civilization monotonous, to a man sated with the splendors and eccentrici ties of India. In truth, nothing aston ished him, nothing moved him, at Taris; an astonishment would have re freshed him, an emotion might have saved him he would have paid for an astonishment. ; a hundred thousand crowns; for an emotion, half of his fortune. Alter Taris, the nabob and his daughter were going to Indon. At first, the young and 'beautiful East Indian, had manifested a desire not to remain, long in Taris, but to depart im mediately for London. But soon this eagerness to depart waxed faiut, and dually disappeared altogether. "This is a charming city," said she, "and I am told that London is far from possessing so many and so great attrac tions." i . - What she did not mention among the attractions of Taris, was a certain young Sentleman, who had found the road to er heart; for the young girl was not as insensible as the father; a kind look, a tender speech, had BUtliced to awaken emotion iu her bosom., Nevertheless, the nabob, more and more ennuied, re solved to try change of country, and issued his orders to prepare for their departure for Loudon. . ' The day before the departure, a yonng man presented himself to the opulent East Indian, and said without further preamble: "I come to ask the hand of your daughter!" The nabob scarcely raised his eye brows, but fixing on the suitor a dull and inanimate look, asked : "What is your fortune?", : "I have none," replied the young mn. "Well, that is not of much import ance," said the nabob; "my daughter has thousands. What is your position ; your rank In life?" "1 am nothing yet, but hope to dis tinguish myself hereafter." "What is your name, your title?" continued the impassible nabob. "I have no aristocratic title," he said, giving his name a common-place one. "So," said the Indian, "you ' have neither rank, fortune, nor title; and you demand the hand of my daughter?" "Yes, sir, I do," was, tbe prompt re ply. - The nabob had no idea of such un paralleled impudence, and for tbe first time in an immemorial period, he felt astonished but not excited. After en joying his astonishment for a few mo ments, he said to.. the young man, with all bis habitual tang ftoid: "Sir, if we were in India, I should probably have you thrown out- of the window, or placed in a lunatic asylum ; at Taris, 1 have only the right to turn you out of doors, aud I request you to go out." "I comprehend. My presence irritates you." "No, sir; it annoys me." The young man left the room, but scarcely had he passed the door-sill when- a white band elapsed his and a sweet voice said : "Well done t You have repeated the lesson exactly.' Now you must write the letter 1 am about to dictate." The astonishment had a happy effect on the nabob's health, and that day he was much better than usual'. The next day, at breakfast time, bis daughter not having appeared, he gave orders to the servants to go and call her. At the same moment a letter was handed to him. which he opened with indolent fingers, and cast upon it a look, which, at first abient, became riveted as soon as be read the first words of the missive. It was very laconic, and ran thus: "Monsieur I love yoor daughter, and she loves me. You would not give her to me 1 have carried ner otr." These lines were signed with the common place name which had been pronounced so humbly the day before. The domestic who had been directed to inform his daughter that the nabob was awaiting her, returned with the in formation that mademoiselle was not in her apartment, that she had left that morning in a carriage, as if for a jour ney, for she had taken her trunks and baud-boxes. The nabob remained for an instant motionless; then, all at once be uttered a sort of terrible roar, and springing from his easy chair, with one kick of his foot he overturned the break fast table. The domestics rushing in at the noise, he threw himself upon them, beating and striking them right and left; then, left alone, be smashed all tbe furniture in the apartment, and never stopped until, exhausted with rage and fatigue, he fell senseless upon the carpet of the devastated room. . .When he came to bimseifa healthy reaction had taken place in bis system ; tbe crisis bad produced au instantaneous and immense result. It was the emotion emotion so long prayed for, which had come at last to save him ! - A messenger bad now arrived from his daughter, to open negotiations for a reconciliation. ' Let her come let her come!" ex claimed the nabob, "and I'll marry her to the man she loves." The couple were-not far off, and soon, made their appearance. . "Monsieur," said the nabob, address ing the young man, "you have neither fortune, rank, nor title; but yesterday you caused me astonishment, and to-day you - have produced an emotion in other words, you have 'saved my life and that is a favor which well deserves one in return. Thanks to you, my heart is so kindled within me, that I, who was until now indifferent to every earthly thing, experience delight at the thought of procuring my daughter's happiness, by giving to her the busbwtd of her choice- Thanks, my d-r sonl and it is I who am still yo debtor." If this story has an tr of romance, it is not our fault; is none the less true, as a whole, and in all Its details. . apaualsk Frwlt Market. , : No one who has not personally seen and studied the fruit markets of Murcia and Valentia, of Ronda and Tort St. Mary, in all tbe varying seasons, can have the slightest idea of the enormous size and beauty of the vegetables ana fruit. In Tort St. Mary's market rad ishes, (called "dravanot,") average from eiirht inches to a foot long, and. being of very quick growth, are also tender and juicy, itetore, men, we come to cooking, and follow the peasant girl to her home, laden witn ner store of fruit and fish, let us take a bird's-eye view of the fruit and vegetable stalls, Let me premise that this sketch of Ali cante Fruit Market is an Autumnal sketch, taken during the month of September. Here Is a pile or talava, or gourds, some of them looking like gnarled, twisting boughs of a hoary oak; Some round and flat, measuring one foot in height and a foot and a half in diameter; their yellow nesn is taste less, but they are in universal request sold at two farthings per pound, every poor woman buys a Tump of gourd flesh for ber stew. Some of these weigh as much as fifty pounds avoirdupois; the smallest which 1 weighed turned the scale at ten pounds. Here are water melons (tandia) weighing from ten to nrteen pounds apiece, their crimson and lake-colored flesh, as they are cut, contrasting beautifully with tbe dark green, unpromising-looking rind of the exterior; besides them is a pile, five feet in height, eight in length, and four in Dreadth or fragrant melons or an kinds, shapes, and colors, called "atel- one de obir," which average four pounds In weight, and are sold at three tann ings per pound. Here, in hundreds. are rich lemon-pippins, called "peril- lonee." heaps or crimson, yellow and purple plums, or eintelat, sweet crab apples; purple and green figs large and luscious; tomatoes by the million, some of which, are of the weight of three- quarters of a pound ; jxuuentos, bitter and appetizing capsicuins.of which the plants take six months before tbey bear and ripen. fruit; some of these pimimtoe are so large that, although they are empty, or nearly so, they weigh three ounces apiece; heaps of parsley, cabbages, cauliflowers, which last put their comparitively tiny brethren in England to the blush; lettuces (tbe old fashioned . cos lettuce,) of which two or three go to the pound, the pound costing but two farthings; almonds, cocoanuts from 'Havana; alyarrotoM, or carrob beans ; green tomatoes for pick ling (to be had for the asking;) small cucumbers and gourds (p-pino aud caia raninot,) two tor a farthing, used for stewing with slices of ham ; baskets of black grapes, each basket' weighing twenty pounds, sold at three farthings per pound; baskets of pungent bird peppers, (pimieutoe picante,) of green, red, and bright gamboge color, sold at one penny per pound, are eaten raw or in vinegar; potatoes (pumpas,) of large size strewed in heaps over the ground ; some of t hem weighed one pound apiece, although this weight Is, of course, ex ceptional ; they are sold at tnree farth ings per pound. Add to these French beans, green unripe lemons, a few un ripe oranges, white grapes,, quinces and peaches in abundance, and the stork of fruit is complete. Before All Saints' Day the chestnuts and walnuts will, to use a vulgar but expressive phrase have 'swamped' the market, the whole coloring of which, from that day until about tbe 10 of December, will be of a pervading tone of russet-brown. About tbe middle or December orange will have come into season, and the whole market will be one vast orange store. Temple Bur. ... I'ae and Akaas af tke lad. Dr. Hammond, in a recent lecture in New Y'ork, after speaking of the differ ent kinds of tissue, and the brains of animals, said that the faculties of the mind were divided into perception in tellect, emotion, and will. It was dan gerous to the health to over-exert the mind by the use of any of these facul ties to a considerable extent, . However be had never seen a man who was in jured by too much' perception, and very lew were injured by too much in tellectual labor. A majority of the cases of brain troubles were caused by emotion. Severe intellectual labor was less injurious than stiong emotions. More injury wa? produced by the anx iety of a man who anticipated possible troubles, than . by the real trouble. Every experiment showed that the brain was the organ of the mind. There was a continual consumption of brain substance going on. When persons thought, they burned the brain, and the ashes, phosphate of ammonia, were taken up by the blood and ' given off through the excretions. By carefully estimating the amount of these ashes one can tell approximately the amount of Intellectual labor. There was noth ing more injurious than too much anx iety. In such cases the appetite failed and the brain was consumed faster than the tissue could be supplied from . the food. Some try to get relief by drink ing whisky, but it was a very Dad w; It simply postponed the trouble. - No organ in the body was as strong as the Drain. II a man slept six to eignt nours he could work as hard as he wished to, within reason, the rest of tbe 24. The mind should never be concentrated too lone on one subject. Fersons should always have well selected intellectual amusements. ; Haw to fare ataiaascrlag. A gentleman who was once an inve- trate stammerer writes us about the way to cure the habit: "No stammering person ever found any difficulty in siuging. Tbe reason of this is, that by observing the measure of the' music by keeping- time the organs of speech are kept iu such position that enuncia tion is easy. Apply the same rule to reading or speech, and the same result will follow. Let the stammerer take a sentence, say this one, 'Leander swam the Hellespont,' and pronounce it by syllable, keeping time with his finger, letting each syllable occupy the same time, thus: Le an der swam the Hel lea pont, and he will not stam mer. Let him pronounce slowly at first, then faster, but still keeping time with words instead of syllables, and be will be surprised to find that, by very little practice, he will read without stammering, and nearly as ranidlv as persons ordinarily talk or read. Then practice this in reading and conversa tion nntil the habit is broken up. Per severance and attention is all that is necessary to perform a perfect cure." Haw sat ta Overwerk, ... The best recipe for overworked men (says the Herald of Health) is for them to drill themselves to work slowly, and let them begin by learning to eat slowly. When ther come to the table Jet them throw aside care and trouble, greet their friends with pleasant words an smiles, and make tbe boor one ve delight. Having once le" -to slowly, let him-?a -f ; do other this- t deliberation calm ness p!ration. It will soon become . hauit. and when once well established will make life more sweet, and lengthen it to nearer what nature intended.. -lConneeticut has 3,196 liquor dealers and their traffic amount to f 15,000,000 a year. Torres' colci3u A .Coy. The world abounds with sphynxes, but the most incomprehen sible of tbem all is a boy. I remember when I was beginning to learn tbe sig nification of words, and came across diabolical, with its direful meaning, the idea occurred to me that a boy was the best definition one could give. 1 have often since wondered what this world would be if it had no other ge nus homo in its ranks, bnt the very Sneer animal called boy. What splen idly consistent people tbey are so truly democratic in their tastes and in clinations. Tbey have as much con tempt for knowledge as an Esquimaux; have no gallantry for the fair sex, and the most opprobrious epithet they can bestow oo one of their nnmebr, as em bodying more disgrace than another is "girl"! A boy knows at once in what estimation he is held by his compan ions if told by them he is like a girl. Tbey henceforth despise their yellow rings of bair, of which mamma is so Eroud, if they have been sneered at as aving "bair like a girl." Tbe huge boy is a marvel of grandeur and cou rage to bis retinue, and a living dread to the small and weak. I never saw a boy-without looking for a rock in his hand. The cats are thin and spiritless in his locality,- worried into this sad state by the oppressions of said boy, who amuses himself by a sight of the little animal's torture, under heavy load of tin cans. What a wonderful spectacle is a boy's schoolroom ! The desks are ornamented by divers cuts and diagrams, made by the jack-knives, in the hands of the tyro engravers. Tbey abound with letters great and small big A's little a's aud bounciug B's. Some of the larger boys mavhaps have drawn artistically in ink, aud then cut with a knife, some very irregular capitals that stand for their sweet heart's name, and hard by are tLf-tiap, into which snares full many an unwary fly was beguiled by the morsel Of sngar placed there for a bait. . Not a whole desk in the room, not one but has marks of ink, made in tbe long, lazy writing hours of the sultry af ternoons, while their thoughts were far away with the swaying boats that lay where tbey were moored in the quiet-shade of the willow grove. 1 have often won dered how a boy ever became a poet. How can be ever emerge from the state of depravity, into the dieamhood of poetism f How ran he so change bis inclinations, that he can he&r the twit ter of a red-breast and not long for a missile by which to subdue bis tongt How could Byrou write an epitaph oo a Newfoundland dogt For. doubtless, when he was a boy, be would ouly have enjoyed seeing the poor brute iu mis- , ery. The good-natured, hearty boys are always noted for their brusqnerie, and ouly time, with its morbid paueuce, can eradicate their crudity, and give room for tbe germination of their bet ter selves. Good boys are all in the Sunday-school books, ' but the Jim, Tom and Dick of our acquaintance are not verv civilized. But 1 believe in regeneratien, aud we oftenest find the most beautiful butterfly,- trom the most unlovelv chrysalis. Your dainty. effeminate boys generally outgrow their decency, and become unbearable in manhood. At ten or twelve, the rude boy sneers at and despises the eirl that at eighteen- or twenty he adores as the queeu of Seraphiuas. Boys are dreadful beings and all of them are gamins, in the different con ditions under which tbey thrive. All the slang known to chnsteudoui is their pet language, and up- town but cher boys know it no better thsa the pampered son of luxury aud wealth. Albert Tike, as many other piiets have done, laments in several pathetic songs, that he is no longer a boy, but I fancy the world has gained something by the loss they so mournfully deplore. .The thistles have bloomed into beautiful flowers, and no burr remains to tell the story ' of its cruelty and homely face. After all we can say ol boys, the world admires and loves them, for their oritrinality and inde pendence, and for the bright eyes aud cheery voices that are so wholly free trom eare, while lite is to them no gra ver thins than a sail on the lake in summer, or a coast in the hoary winter. The dial of the clock in the clock- tower of Westminster Palace measures twenty-two feet in diameter. This is supposed to be the largest clock-dial in existence before whose face the clock hand move. There is a mnch larger clock-dial at Mechlin, which measures forty feet in diameter ; but this clock has no bands. The clock has what is called a gravity escapement, which was invented fry Mr r lieckett. and is now commonly used in large clocks. Five bells are hung in the tower, and npon these the "Westminster chunes" are rung at the honrs and qHarter bours. Tbe largest bell, which weighs thirteen and one-half tons, has been cracked by the use of a hammer which was too heavy for ttie poorly amalga mated metal of the bell. The hammer now in use weighs only four hundred weight, or half so much as the original hammer. The other bells weiU four tous, thity hundred-weight, and tweu ty hundred-weight respectively. It takes only ten minutes to wind up the going-parts; but for the striking-parts tbe hour and the quarter parts it takes five hours each, and this baa to be done twice, a week. 1 lie clock va ries onlv one second for every eithty- three days. The pendulum weighs six hundred and eighty pounds, and can tie accelerated one second a day by addiug one ounce to its weight. Gum Arabic. The most familiar ob jects about us are often least under stood, and probably few pause to ask the uuestion. "What is Gum Arabic and whence conies it V In Morocco, about the middle of No vember (that is after the rainy season), a gummy juice exudes spontaneously from the trunk and branches of the acacia. It gradually thickens in the furrow "down which it runs, assumes the form of oval and rouud drops, about the size ot a pigeon's ege, of dif ferent colors, as it conies from the red or white rum tree. ' About the middle of December the Moors encamp on the border of the forest, and the harvest lasts a full month. The gum is then packed , in large leather sacks, and transported on tne oat-KS oi rameisauu bullocks toseaports for shipment. The harvest occasion is one of great rejoic inif. and the people for the time being almost live on the truni, which U nuj ti itious and fattening. lrotChed Yinhet. You think there cannot be aucu a thing as a drowned fish T w ell, yon may accept Jack's word for it that tbe thing is quite pos sible. If you take the air out of a body of water, the fishes In that water wUl suffocate and drum. Any cnemv - in fart, almost any educa- can tell you how to der-y water of its air. A live fish laid dow oVV-Kras. on a bright, clear A.y rf-tMi't die for want of water, bnt m want of air. til. Mitholae for April. "Ther was a compliment encourag ing to his school in the answer of a teacher to some boy, who, telling him a story, the veracity of which might bave been deemed doubtful by a $npi eiout pedagogue, said, "1 hope you be lieve me, . sir r. rueueve you s n course.'' replied the teacher, "the great est of all improbabilities would be that any gentleman in this school would tell me a lie." ifsaw. Jim ET BRUT. : Six bridesmaids is the fashionable number now. Reading, Pa., lives happily without any city council. Wages are higher In the West than in New England. Indiana wheat has been badly dam aged by cold weather. New Haven has appropriated $10 000 to employ her poor. Many families in Central Georgia use only homegrown tea. The Carson Mint trade dollars are not light of weight, but of. poor work manship. David Jacks, of Monterey, Cal., netted $37,500 on 10,000 acres planted in wheat last year. - The New Hampshire House of Rep resentatives will be a lively little body of only 387 members. " " Tbe Boston Herald claims that it has the largest circulation of any paper in the country 147,000. The ladies at a fashionable hotel in San Francisco have formed a debating club for the purpose of learning how U talk. ' South Carolina is going to erect a monumeut to Calhoun, which is quite supererogatory, the State being one al ready. ' One cent per bushel makes a differ ence of ten millions of dollars in the value of the annual crop of corn in the United States. English sparrows have bnilt their nests in the nostrils of a horse on which is placed a statue of Washington, at Richmond, Va. The establishment of penny savings banks in the Loudon public schools is being urged by influential noblemen and merchants. I It Is seriously proposed to make sewing a part of the public school course for girls In Boston. Baking will come next, probably. Blooiuington, III., is a prosperous town, having assets in excess of liabili ties to the amount of $200,000. Go West, ye grumbling tax payers! The assessment of taxable property in New Jersey last year was $t!l-2.731, 0U4, as against $448,474,072 in 13t, an increase of-36.U2 per ceut. The French drank a thousand mil lion gallons of wine last year, a com paratively small amount of spirits, and a little water taken medicinallv. During 1S73 there were l.O.'KJ disas ters on the lakes. Troperty lost, In cluding barges, $S,7Ulk)U. Lives lost 2-'t9 the most disastrous season on record. The liberty bell in Independence Hall tower was not cracked while peal ing forth independence to the nation, but while tolling the knell of Chief Justice Marshal in 1833. Senator-elect James B. Beck of Ken tucky is to be presented with a testi monial by tire sportsmen of that State as a recognition of his services in secur ing protection for fish and game. Caleb Cushing Is not the oldest ex- Cabinet Minister living. He was ap pointed Attorney General in ls.J but George Bancroft was apointed Secre tary or the Navy in March, 184o. The glas dome of the Centennial Art Gallery will be lighted by 2000 gas jets- The dome Is 23 feet above the level of the Schuylkill, and will be vis ible at nisht all over Philadelphia. There are now growing in the streets of Washington tweuty-seven thousand seven hundred shade trees, uiiieteen thousand of which bave been planted within the last three years. Maiden,' Mass., boasts an old elm 86 feet high, H to 24 feet in circumference and 2) years old, under which George Washington and his staff once halted. Its photograph is to be sent to the Cen tennial. The exports of provisions from the principal parts of the United States from November 1, 1S75, to March 1 1S76 including 324,30,051 pounds of hog product of a value of $27,533,306, and 34.S42,026 oiinds of bet-f product of a value of $3,258,883. The orsaii used in the Eoiscopal Church at C'lyde, X. Y. Is claimed to be 100 years old. The organ was for manv years used in Triuitr, New York, and was rrom there taken to Geneva, ami finally to Clyde, where it has been in use for. thirty years. Dr. R. V. Tierce, of Buffalo, has perfected the purchase of a large lot of ground, on which he prooses to erect a hotel for the accommodation of his numerous patients. It is understood that Dr. Tierce will expend $200,0X upon the building, ami ill thus make it a model structure in every particular. There are 1234 men, 3C steamers, 37 vessels and 18 factories engaged in the oil ami guano business of Maine, Dur ing 17, no less than 7I2.0UO barrels or fish were taken, an increase of 90,000 over 1871, and 1,8UO,00 gallons of oil made, an increase of 21,000 gallons. The amount of guano prepared was 22.0UO tous.. ... . On the summit of Tike's Teak over 14,000 feet above the sea level, where is not a trace of any vegetation, or indeed any earth upon which shruhs or grass could grow, the mountain rat, an ani mal twice as large as a Norway rat, abounds in vast numbers, overrunning the United States station on the apex of the mountain. : At Toint Reyes,- Cal., there Is a dairy farm of 42,OUO acres, on which there are 3,000 cows. The farm, to gether with the cow, Is rented in part to several tenants. They make from $1,000 to $2,000 per annum clear of .all expenses. The yield from the cows is reported to be excellent; some oi the butter ranches, show an average of $80 per cow through a whole herd of 200. It is expensive to take care of in sane people in palaoes. In Massachu setts the uost of two asylums iu the course of construction is from $2500 to $3000 for each patient. One is nearly completed in New Jersey at an estima ted cost or $3,01)0.0(10 or more than s:touo per patient; while in New York three are in process of building, the estimates of the cost of which vary ouly between $4000 and $5000 for each patient. Yale has been prolific in Colle" Tresidents, having furnished Mons: the following - uartmoutn, wil Princeum.Columfci MiUdle'bury, iTsKSiSTth. universities of Ver-ZST.fi- California. Pennsylvania, and manv others. Tresidents Barnard, of Columbia; White, of Cornell; Gil man of the Hopkins University, and Chan cellor Slille, of the Uuiversity of Penn sylvania, are graduates oi l aie. About 30,000,000 tons of coal are mined yearly in Pennsylvania. A coal region exchange says In the mines un wronght, it is worth 50 cents per ton, or $10,000,000; mined and brought to the surf:ice, it is worth $1.50 per ton or $30,000,000; ground, broken and placed on tbe cars, it U worth $2.50 per ton or $50,000,000; delivered at the boundaries of tbe state or on shipboard, it Is worth on an average, $5.50 or $110,000,000, which is the sum annually paid Tennsylvania for coal. Si f J i I V ' t I ; ! , I ' ! r ! i i : i 4 H i if i '
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers