8-? MYKY I f CN info 1! fsflM i B. F. SCHWEIER, til 0QHSTITCTI05 TEI UVRHT A59 THS XHTOKCliaHT OF TH1 tUTS. Editor and Pi oprit v . v. A OL. XXX. MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA . COUNTY, PENNA-JULY 26, 1S76. NO. 30. n HfiSL-r-' y AYftmYffn fi nWAYfi AT ft, ft Xaiftfflf A PERFECT SIT. bt caax srcscxx. The earth k wrapped in dream of bliss. In a rasi complete ; And the touch of the sir is liks a kisc. Comforting, sweet. - , And the tiny creatures in singing low Asalullaby; And the watching ailenoe doth stir and glow As the wind creeps by. And there is the son's own mantle flung On the chestnut tops. And yonder are tangled rainbows hang Wit : shimmering drops. And orer the things so soon to die ' ' . Is a gentler law, A hash of pesos and a tenderer sky Than the summer saw. . , Open the windows wide to-day, . ! ; - . Where a soul may dwell. In the heart of a palace grand and gay. Or a prison eelL - O look, ye happy, tni pleasure grows To a nobler thing ; . Till you bring your joy as the ember flows. For an offering. And look, ye weary, till grief and pain Transfigured shine. Rejoice for the crimson glory's gain. The holiest sign. O mourn ye never that hope is lost, a . That rest delays ; They are after rammer and after frost. These sweetest days. Often and often win skies be gray, , And hearts be sad ; But the Lord hath made us a perfect day Let ns be glad. i TUB MiwT Low Slory. BY JTSTIN- M CARTHY. "Xo, I don't care so much for staying in Germany now," said my friend Lyndsay Roundell to me the other day, as we sat, after dinner, we two alone, in tbe window of a little hotel over looking the Thames. We had not met for years ; and having now chanced to meet in London, he on returning from the Italian port where he had been British consul, and I having just come back from the United States, we cele brated our reunion by a quiet dinner together. When we used to meet more often and were a little younger, we were both passionate lovers of German literature, music, philosophy, scenery, and wines. Xaturally, therefore, we had been talking of Germany. "Xo," he repeated. "I don't care much about staying in Germany any more. I always hurry through. I know all about United Germany, and its greatness, and its victories, and that sort of thing, and it's splendid, of course. I am glad of it, you know; but it's a little like a fellow who is glad that some girl he loved when he was a boy has grown a grand lady and mar ried an earl. Delighted, of course, and all that; but she isn't our Lisette any more. I spent a night or two in Berlin lately, and went to an evening party had to. It was given by a friend, a modest professor. I tell you there was as much show and sham, as much jew elry and rustling silks, and bare shoul ders and footmen, and airs and tom foolery, as if it was in Paris under the empire." "I fear I fear that years are telling on yon, Roundell. You are becoming an old fogy." "I suppose so. But these people used to be to simple, sweet, and homely when I used to visit Berlin first. Tell you what, I used to like the little courts of the tiny princes. It's a shame, I suppose; but I used to like them. Say what you will, these little courts had a flavor of antique chivalry and old ro mance about them." "Had they? I confess I never could see it. I thought them ridiculous little humbugs." "Well, and you are right enough, from the point of view taken by the journalist and the practical politician. But why don't you take a look at them from the romancist's standpoint?" "Because I can't imagine any ro mance clinging around such formal, dry, and dusty old pedantries. Did you ever hear of the romance of a Gold Stick in Waiting the hero of a thrilling love story?" Roundell only sent a column of smoke up over his head into the blue ether, and was silent. After a silence of a moment or two, he said, "Did you see in the papers the death of the grand duchess of Liebesheim?" - "Xo, I didn'tobserve. Theold graud duchess?" "Oh, no, the young one the wife of the grand duke I mean the fellow who was grand duke until Bismark sponged him off the slate." "I didn't see. Where did she die?" "In Florence. She was very young to die?" "Young to die yes. But she was not exactly a chicken, you know. Let me see. When was it we saw her in Liebesheim at her marriage festivals? In '52, wasn't it? Well, you see, twenty years" "Yes, yes, of course; but I always think of her as young. How beautiful she looked then !" "She did; she seemed a charming woman. I only saw her twice the day when her husband brought her out into the balcony to bow to the crowd, and once at the court ball, for which some good-natured functionary I for get who it was kindly got me a ticket." "She is dead so soon," my friend repeated, thoughtfully. I did not quite understana nis emo tion. I was sorry the grand duchess should be dead, if she particularly wished to live; but one must be a great devotee to royalty to feel profound grief at the death of a princes whom he saw twice, in a crowd and at a dis tance, twenty years ago. It surprised me, too, to find my friend so deeply concerned for the extinction of any royalty, seeing that he used to be rather of the stern republican school. To be sure, since he and I were in Germany together he had received a consulship from the government of her majesty, Queen Victoria. "They said her husband was a worth less scamp," said I, for want of any thing else or better to lay. "They did ; I believe it was only too true, replied Roundel leather gloomily, "&ne aiun t care a none mm; l sup pose?" I asked. ; "Xo. .How could she! ..lie was orute, and the marriage was a mere political arrangement." "I suppose these royal or sc ml-royal marriages always are. - . . Tie didn't answer directly. But he tent up another pillar of smoke, and murmured, ''Dead t-r-so young, and so beautiful!'! ' ' ' "You grow quite sentimental about tbe grand duchess.' Did you know her?' "I never saw her, as you have said, for 20 years." "Then why are you so greatly con cerned about her death ?" 'Well, you see, her memory belongs to the old time, when we - were young ana i can see ner race now berore me, sad and beautiful. I know she' was very unhappy. I remember bearing a story I don't know whether it's worth telling, though." "By all means. Go ahead. I shall be delighted to hear it," I said this because Roundell spoke in that half-eager, half-apologetic tone which shows that a man wants to (ell you something, but' is afraid vou will not care to listen to it. "It isn't much. .There was a fellow I knew at the time we were in Liebe sheim an English fellow. I don't think you knew him. He was study ing something or other there, and he liked to read in the mornings. : He used to get up with the lark and stroll out Into the park. . You remember the park pretty, wasn't it? And he found out a quiet place where hardly any people ever went even in the day, and he used to read there. I remember the spot, every stone and leaf of it he showed it to me and I used to lounge there some times after he had gone. It was a little bit of a clearing in rather a thick part of the wood, and there was a little stream there. I used to spout Goethe's poem to the Bachleln there." " 'You used to spout, or the fellowyou are telling me of?" 'Ob, I used to when he bad gone, you know. Perhaps he used to spout it too; it doesn't matter. There were a couple of statues there, a nymph and a faun that sort of thing all grown over with moss. Well, sir, one lovely summer morning, when this fellow was reading there, declaiming out loud he had a great fashion of doing that ' . "So had you, I remember." "Had I, really? Oh no, I think not; anyhow, he had. Welt, he was de- claming something from Schiller, when suddenly be beard an unmistakable laugh a very pleasant, musical laugh and looking up, he saw " "A girl, of course." "Wrong, for once. He saw two girls." "All the same. I knew we should get to some girl or girls before long." "Xice girls, too, and very beautiful ; quietly dressed; citizens' daughters that sort of thing. Got into talk with this fellow. .Were as friendly and sweet and modest as dear little German girls only can be, or used to be in those days. Tbe fellow talked a good deal, too. They were interested in England and his studies, and so on. One of them had lovely eyes. Went away, of course. Fellow went there next morn ing." "They came agaiu." "Wrong sir; they didn't- He was sorry. But they came the morning after." "Oh, confound it, that all comes to the same thing. They, came, anyhow." "They did. Acquaintance grew and grew. They would sit on the grass and talk for an hour at a time they three." "Always three?" "Always at first." " ' "Thought so." "Like a good fellow, let me get on my own way. Or you tell me the story If you know all about it." "Well, I almost think I could. The regular sort of thing, I suppose the fellow you know fell in love with the girl who had the eyes, and for some reason or other she couldn't marry him and they were miserable, or she did marry him, and they were happy. Can't be anything else. Did marry or didn't marry, there's the only differ ence." Roundell laughed rather a gloomy sort of laugh. . "la this case it was diknt marry," he said ; "but we may as well go regularly through with the story, as we have begun it, its not quite so commonplace as you suppose. Wall, these girls came very regularly in the mornings, and sometimes they even arranged to meet the fellow of evenings on rare occasions, though. Once there was a sort of saturnalian masquerade in the open air in the gar dens of the old Schloss, and the girls gave the fellow a hint that they were to be there, and how they were to be dressed, and be found them out. She was dressed like a Swiss peasant girl bodice and sleeves, short skirts, you know." "Yes silver spoon in the hair, lib eral display of ankles. Go on." My friend looked grim at my levity, and I felt bound to excuse myself by saying that as I didn't personally know tbe fellow who was the nero ot in is romance, I might be forgiven if I spoke too lightly of his idol's ankles. Roundell went on : "It was the queerest sort of thing, the meeting of these three the three always, until just the end. There really wasn't any love-making in particular, aiuiougu uie fellow grew at last to be madly in love with tbe girl with the eyes. Sbe called herself Dorothea; the other was Mela. They were cousins, they said, daugh ters of worthy trades-people wno up plied things to the Schloss. They used to talk about books. "The girls were narticularlv interested in English nov els and poetry and art, and I don't know what all. The poor Jeilow was con foundedly happy. And, do you know. I think studious and poetic young fel low of that age are wonderfully jure. This fellow wasnt any better than any of the rest of us; but, by Jove! bis love for. her was as pure as the lore of a woman." V " - - " "Did she fall la love with him?" '- "WelL It came out In this sort of way. He was rather a good-looking young fellow then, though perhaps you wouldn't think so now fellow change so and he was full of poetry and pas sion, and that sort of staff, just at the age when a man would be delighted to give his life for a woman. Well, sir, one morning she had a little flower in her band, and as they were parting, she held it in an uncertain sort of way, as If she were going to offer it .to him, He extended hi hand; the flower dropped; he reached down for it; their bands just touched one moment, one single little moment by Jove! as short as this puff of smoke; and when she looked up her face was all crimson and then sbe turned away; and she knew as well a heaven does that the fellow was in love with her, and be knew that sbe loved him.? Roundell paused in bis story The evening wa deepening down, the skies were purpling, and the Thames wa assuming a sad and melancholy hue, The faint ripple of the water was heard more and more clearly. My friend looked out of the window, and seemed to enjoy the quiet beauty of the scene, "Well, but the rest of the story, Roundell," I said, f "The 'rest of the story? I don't know that it isn't all over." I "Oh, come now, there must be a little more." . "Yes, a little; but I think it might have been better, somehow, if it had ended there." Asyhow, it didn't, so go on." Well, the fellow didn't see either of the girls next day, or the next. But the third day they came ; and Dorothea was very sweet and melancholy, and the other one, Meta, was rather distant In manner, the fellow thought, and seemed frightened somehow. They didn't stay long; Meta seemed wild to getaway; but when they were going, Dorothea gave her hand to to the fel low, and put into it a tiny scrap of paper." "Ahl" ,. : , .. . ; "Yes, a liny scrap of paper. It had few words written on it. Of course he didn't read it until he was safe out of the range of everybody's eyes. Then he read it. It ouly asked him to meet her after dusk. In the old place, that evening. Of course he went, ne waited a long time, wondering, and in agony lest some confounded stroller should come that way. The place was as free and open to any one who pleased as that bank of the Thames there, but it was just out of the regular track of promenaders and loungers, and, thanks to the routine tendencies of the human mind, not a creature ever did come there but the poor fellow and these girls. So he waited for an hour, and at last she came. She was almost out of breath, and frightened ; said she had great difficulty in getting away, but that she was resolved, come what would, fa see him alone for the last time." "For the last time?" "Those were her words, aud her firm. sad face showed that she meant it. She told him that she and her compenion had been doing a very foolish thing. and running a terrible risk, and that they trusted to his honor as an English gentleman to help them out of the fix by just keeping their secret, and for getting all about them. She wa aw fully in earnest: no affectation, no coquetry; brave and firm; but with the flash of a tear now and then in her beautiful eyes. She told the fellow that she was tbe cousin and companion of the princess, who was to marry the young grand duke of Liebesheim." "Meta?" "Meta, she told him, was the future grand duchess. Sae was brought to Liebesheim to marry the grand duke. She was the daughter of a mediatized prince, and put under the care of his hard and formal old mother. Or course Dorothea told tbe fellow that the prin cess could not love her future husband. How could she? Every one knew that he was a selfish cub. Dorothea's eyes filled with tears when she spoke of the miserable fate of her friend. 'I may tell you,' she said to the fellow, 'that she loves one whom she will always remember and can never see again.' " "But how about herself ?" "Yes, I am afraid that concerned the fellow a good deal more than the trou bles of the grand duchess that was to be. 'Dorothea, said said the fellow, you know, 'this musn't affect us; we must not part; nothing must separate us; I love you, and all that kind ol thing. I would have talked at her like a mad man, and he caught her hand and kissed it, and begged of her to be his wife, although the poor devil God help him ! bad a very small allowance to live on. and was good for nothing as far as money-making goes, and he was only two-and-twenty years old; but she stood there firm and patient and suffering. Ah, by Jove! I know she was; it was in her eyes, for the fellow told me so. She said : My friena, we must not see each other any more ever again. We must part. You will not ask me why; but we must part.' Then she told the fellow that the young prin ces and herself had taken a freak of going out for morning walks dressed like city girls, and that they meant no harm ; and that one day they beard the fellow declaiming from bchiuer, ana they listened, and then they got into talk with him, and they rattier used the fellow ; and so on, you know.' Xow the princess marriage was approach ing, and there must be no more cakes and ale. 'But you will not be sorry to learn,' said Dorothea, 'that your friend ship and our pleasant talk sometimes gladden the poor princess, and that she will remember you always as a mend." "But what bad all this to do with herself?" I asked, a little Impatiently. "That wa just what the fellow put to her; but she said that her fate was bound up with that of the princess, and she too hinted of some conrounuea marriage engagement. Oh, be talked, did the fellow, I can tell you. Hi elo quence fairly astonished himself. But it was all to no purpose. She firmly declared that they must never meet any more. Then he began to accuse her of having played with his love; but she looked at him with such a grieved and imploring face that he soon dropped that game. He begged of her even to give him the comfort of telling him that she loved him, that If things bad been different, and all that. She only said, 'My friend, some day you and will both be glad that I speak no foolish words now.- - You will look back on my memory with all tbe better feeling.1 It was growing late; the woods were darkening all this, though it seems long, didn't take a quarter of an hour she had to go away. She wouldn't even give him a lock of her hair no, by Jove! nor the flower in her bosom, 'Xot note, she said ; 'we have both gone too far. Adieu; I won't ask you to forget me, and she held out her hand. He caught it and kissed it. There was a ring upon her finger, which came almost loose in his hand. He almost thought of pulling It off, and keeping It as a relic; but be didn't. He pressed it on her slender little darling of a finger again, aud iu half a moment she was gone, and the fellow was alone." "Poor fellow ! What did he do ?' "Do? He moaned about the wood for an hour or two, with his hands in hi pockets, thinking of nothing, in an odd, dazed sort of a way. At last he went home to bis lodgings, and I think he wished that he were a woman for once." ? ; "Why that?" "Don't you see ? Because, if he were a woman, he could have a good cry, and ease hi mind a little. But he could only smoke, and when the fellow he knew made jokes he had to try. and make jokes too. He went with them to the beer gardens and the dancing place and I don't suppose that any of them ever knew the poor devil was wretched." Did he keep up visiting the old places iu the mornings?" He did ; but tht never came again, 5e was gone." "Then did he never see her again ?" - "Oh, yes ; he saw ber once. It was on the day of the grand duke's niar- riage. He posted himself in the crowd, poor fellow, to see the procession which passed through thecity from the church when that confounded brute and cad, tbe grand duke, took his newly-made wife round to show her to his people. Tbe fellow thought, you know, that he would be sure to see Dorothea some where in the court carriages, and he longed to see her again as much as if the sight could do him any possible good. There he stood, and be saw her, Roundell brought hi clinched fist heavily down on the table as he spoke. In one of the court carriages, of course?" ' - In the carriage of the grand duke, and seated by his side. She was now his wife." "Dorothea?" "Dorothea herself." Roundell rose up from his seat in the window, and strode across the room, looked or affected to look at the clock over tbe chimney- piece, returned to the table, stood there a moment in silence, then poured him self out a glass of claret and drank It. "Yes," he went on, "Dorothea was the grand duchess. Meta was only the cousin and companion. It was a pious fraud she had tried to practice on the poor fellow who loved her, and who she well, perhaps might have loved if he hadn't been a poor devil without family or fortune, and she a German princess." "Did she see him r ' "Xo, she' was looking away when he first saw her, and then he drew out of the crowd. He spared her that. Meta saw him, and turned pale. She was In the third or fourth carriage. He made ber a formal bow, as many others did, and site returned it. But he saw by something in her eyes as she glanced toward him that she knew the secret was safe. Then the fellow went home, and he left Liebesheim the next morn ing." ' ' I remembered now how very sud denly Roundell himself had left Liebe sheim that time, and how he was not at the court ball for which I got the tickets, and where, as I have already said, I saw the grand duchess. "What became of the fellow ?' "Ob, nothing in particular. He lives. ne promised to remember her, and I believe he has kept his word." "Did he ever marry ?" "Oh, no; he was not a marrying man, nor particularly fond of women' company. I believe be never cared tor any but that one woman, and she mar ried a brute of a grand duke, and now she's dead. That's all the story." I am glad to have heard it," I an swered, "although it' a sad story enough. It is all the sadder to me, Roundell, now, because I find I know the fellow." , He looked at me with kindly eyes, and nodded his head. Life has a good deal of that sort of thing, I suppose," he said, "If people only knew it. The fellow wasn't worse off thau many other fellow. But I don't much care about staying long In Germany now." Harper' Weekly. Bridal Ceetasses. We have learned to consider white as essentially bridal costumes, but it has not been always so; and even now the Bokhara bride wears a rose colored veil on ber marriage uay, anu in tne modern'Greek IshyvJs the bridal veil is of red silk a custom wblch has de scended, no doubt fi-om the "flamen," or red bridal veil, of ancient Greece; the Romans in old days wearing yellow veils. The Armenian bride, on the most important day of ber life, appears In what closely resembles a sack made of rich silk, completely enveloping tbe figure, feet and beau, lue race is fur ther hidden by a linen veil, over which falls another of gold tinsel; and a part of the ceremonial Is for the priest' wife to dye the nail of the bride a deep red with henna. In Turkey, the bride appears in rich white satin brocade, shot with silver, and bedizened with pearls, a jewelled girdle around ber waist, her face painted a crimson patch the shape of a heart, on ber chin, the rest of the visage a man of white, except tbe black pencilled eyebrows. XUXa From some tables drawn up by Dr, Farr It would seem, as far as can be made out, there are1 cet tain -very crlti eal periods in our career. A baby, for Instance, has a very small chance indeed of growing up. But, pa hejother hand the period between the tenth and fif teenth years inclusively Is that in which tbe death average is the smallest. At about 35 we must begin to take' care of ourselves. At this period constitution al changes set in ; our hair and teeth begin to fail us; our digestion is no Ion ger what It used to be; we., lose the vigor of youth and neglect out-uoor ex ercises; above all, the cares of life be gin to make themselves perceptibly felt. It is at this time that deaths from sui cide take a marked place in the retorts of mortality, and there is also consider able reason to believe that habits of in temperance are apt to develop then selves. The picture, however, has its sunshiny side. It would take, of course, a professed actuary to deduce from Dr, Farr's tables their exact result. It ap, pears, however, that if a man tides over his fiftieth year he may make tolerably certain of living to seventy ; while, if he reaches his seventy-fifth year, there is a very strong presumption that he will either turn bis ninetieth birth day or very near it. A still more interest ing question is opened by tbe series of tables, which show the average mortal ity In different professions and pursuits, Gamekeepers are, for obvious reasons, the healthiest class of our whole popu lation ; clergymen and . agricultural la borers come next, and are followed by barristers; solicitors and businessmen are less fortunate, while at the extreme end of-the scale come unhealthy pur suits, such as printing and file-grind ing. "mmt Tke Trse Terslaa afaa Isaatartaaa is Good 8toriea are often curiously and without the least ill Intention perver ted In print, as in the case of an anec dote of Mr. Sumner, which .has been recently produced as connected with Macaulay. The Easy Chair is very sure that it gave the correct version some time aro. but It Is evidently ne cessary to give It again, for the credit of Mr.' Sumner.' This is the form In which it Is now generally repeated : "Mr. Sumner found himself at din ner In England in a distinguished com pany. Among those present who were strangers to him, and to whom, accord ing to the English fashion, he was not Introduced, was Macaulay, who sat near him. One of Mr. Sumner's neigh bors conversing of American subjects, asked if Washington's remains were still at Mouht Vernon. "Y'es, answered Mr. Sumner; 'his ashes still lie there.' The disdainful historian blurted out. Ashes! was he burned up, then?' Mr. Sumner, overwhelmed by the dis courtesy, at a loss for a reply, was silent. He might have met tbe inslnu tiou with Gray' line, - E'en in oor sahea Ht their wmtet area,'" In fact, the scene was a breakfast at Landor's. Somebody asked Mr.' Sum ner whether General Washington was buried under the Capitol, and he re plied, substantially, that his asbe were at Mount Vernon. "What!" roared Landor: "I am amazed that a gentle man of Mr. Sumner' scholarship should use such a word. Was Washington's body burned?" Sumner instantly re- retorted, "Am I to understand, Mr. Landor, when I read In Gray's elegy, 'Pen In oor aahes Uts their wootrd Bne,' j that the poet refer to some- cinerary process formerly in . vogue in - this country ?" And be further confounded Landor by quoting from the English burial service, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." Mr. Sumner was very fond of telling the story, while the question which provoked his retort was one that Macaulay 's ready and ample memory would probably have prevented his asking. Leaa-tk 01 Madera Caaasaltaa. Tbe great social featureof the present day is "pace everything goes ahead, and armies most conform to this rapid order of thing. Accordingly military operation and result which used to occupy year are now compressed into month ; it might almost be saw week. Tbe war of 1859 was declared by Aus tria on April 2G; the first action, Mon tebello, was fought on May 19 ; and the war was finished at Solfenno on July 24. In 18G6 the Prussians virtually de clared war by crossing the Austrian frontier on June 23, and in seven week tbe latter power was forced to come to terms at the very gate of her capital. Prussia received tbe French declara tion of war on July 19, 1870. On Sept. 3 France's last armj in the field wa destroyed at Sedan, and the last shot were fired on Feb. 2, 1871. Here, then, we have at once an immense saving of life. Tbe long delay, which meant, for the soldier, exposure to the wea ther and to sickness : the defective communications, entailing insufficient food; the slowly dragging campaign with all it privation and hardships- all these fertile sources of disease and death have vanished, or are vanishing. It is true that the French soldiers both in and out of Metz suffered terribly from want of proper food and supplies; but it must be remembered that their administration was exceptionally bad, and the very magnitude of their de fects will prevent a repetition of them. Let us, for comparison, take one or two instance from the war of the first Napoleon. Here is the state of bis ar my dnring the invasion of Russia in 1812, not afier but 6rore meeting tbe enemy otherwise than in small sair- mishes: "From the want of magazine and the impossibility of conveying an ade quate supply of of provisions for so immense a host, disorder of every kind had accumulated in a frightful manner on the Hants and rear oi toe army. Neither bread nor spirits could be bad ; the flesh of tbe over-driven animal and bad water constituted the sole anbstance of tbe soldiers. and before a great part of the army had even seen the enemy, it had un dergone a loss greater than might have been expected from the moat bloody campaign. When tne stragglers ana sick were added to the killed and wounded the total reached 100,000. Again: Mamena entered Portugal in October, . 1810 ; spent week and weeks in futile examination .. of tbe line of Torre Vedra ; and recrosaed into Spain on April 3, 1811, "having lost 90,000 men by want, akkneat, and the sword." As tbe only action of any importance that occurred during the retreat wa that . of Barrosa, at which the French loss was under 1,000, the reader can estimate for himself what proportion of the total loss was due to "want and sickness.', These are but two instances out of many that might be quoted, but enough. Such protrac ted neglect and suffering would be im possible in these days, for the simple reason if for no other that the sol dier is now much too expensive an ar tide to be squandered in such a whole sale manner. Harmtllant Magazine. JsasaeN Isaaen. Natural good breeding is a character istic of even the lowest of the Japanese. It is not merely the civility of the peo ple,, but their politeness-and grace which so win Uie stranger's heart. We discussed it as we walked. Can it, as doubtless are tbe order and condition of the roads and other public works, be owing to the prolonged existence of a local aristocracy ? To tbe presence of natural leaders throughout the land who are regarded as at once both chiefs to obey and models to imitate? Will polished manners long continue among a people urged to get the utmost profit from the soil t) meet their contributions to the exigencies of a government in visibly residing in a distant city, and represented by one of the new class of political adventurers who, now sitting in the seat of the Dalmio, has but two cares to gain promotion to higher place and accumulate savings out of his slender appointments? Will those wbo have grown gray, and reared their children beneath the sway of a long line of hereditary lords, fashion their manners upon the new-fangled habits of tbe sharp politician who comes from To-klo in a stiff and ungraceful West ern dress to talk to them of the eternal truths of political economy and the law of nations; who, Instead of retainers, is obeyed by some half-dozen policeman in ill-fitting European trousers and un comfortable European boots, and who taking the place of Imabari, or perhaps ef the great Awa himself, dwells In a modest abode without the gate of Ima- bari's castle? As each passer-by n eared the visitors, he or sbe removed the short blue kerchief wrapped turban- wise around the head, and, as room wa made that the latter might pass stooped with a not ungraceful bow and gave 'good day" In the national salutation, "O-tu-o.". Hoes and mattocks and other farming tools were cheerfully and politely tendered for inspection where desired. The owners of neat little houses by tbe roadside seemed pleased to see the strangers examine their curi ous details; their accurate carpentry- junctions without nail or bolt; sliding doors and shutters; windows formed of delicate panes of semi-transparent pa per. Seated on the cleanly matted platform of one more pretentious than the others, was an old man whose truly Roman features distinguished him among a Mongolian race, as of hand some presence and noble mien : yet of mien not more noble than was his man- . He grandly acquiesced in the intrusion of an inquirer; saluted with lordly grace; told the distance still be tween the visitors and Imabari ; and in formed the interperter that no Euro peans have ever passed along, that road before. FonihUu J2etin. A itrla Ckaae. The Cincinnati Enyuirtr gives some queer statistics thus: "A very sweet young lady of the West End, who has evidently been giving the subject seri ous reflection, gives the following table as showing a woman's chances of mar riage between the ages of fourteen and forty years. Of 1,000 women, taken without selection, It is found that the number married at each age is as below. Or if (by an arithmetical license) we call a woman's chances of marriage in the whole course of her life 1,000, her chances in each two years will be shown in the table : Age. Chances, i Age. Chancea. a( li 19, 1US1 18 , M ,.. 11 .( n tit s( ( i ' Ml I 141 ft S l!3Sf we naraiy minx it a lair tning ior our lady friend to stop at the age of thirty-nine, as there are very few la dies wbo have arrived at that age of ingle blessedness from whose hearts have been extinguished hopes of ever seeing the chosen one. Xo, indeed; so long as there Is an old bachelor left, we say give the old maids a chance, and don't blame them for still clinging to hope. ' The :es f Dark aesa. The Ignorance which prevailed dur ing the Middle Ages respecting the ge ography of the earth Is surprising. The true orthodox system for more than ten centuries taught that the earth Is a quadrangular plane extending 400 days' journey east and west, and exactly half as much north and and south ; that It is Inclosed by mountains on which the sky rests; that one of these mountains on the north side, higher than the others, by intercepting the rays of the sun, produces night; and that tbe plane of the earth Is not set exactly horizon tally, but with a little inclination from the north; hence the Euphrates, Tigris and other rivers running southward are rapid; but the Xile, having to ma up kill, has necessarily a very slow current. It is important to state, however, that such vagaries were not believed by every one. There were, .even, in those dark times, a few superior mind that rose above the ignorance, superstition and ecclesiastical dogmatism of the age, and groped their way Into a less inurky light. But gross Ignorance enshrouded the minds of the masses, and a horrible intellectual darkness prevailed, which was deeper than the pall of night. Ad vancing science ha fortunately brought to ns a better knowledge of nature. C'E9TEW9IAL MOTES. - The Images of saints occupy a prom inent feature in tne art products oi Kussia,- The Centennial posed of sugar. It work of art. i 'r I'yramid is corn Is an interesting At all the avenue crossings finger boards bare been erected Indicating the locality of all the principal buildings, In Memorial Hall 'is a beautiful mosaic representing the "Ruins of Pssttim:" it is composed of 700.000 small cubes of enamel. ' It I said that one-half tbe exhibi tors in Machinery Hall and one-third of those in the Main Building will be awarded bronze medals. . A portrait of the Rev Dr. Duffield, the first chaplain of the Continental congress, has been sent to the Centen nial exhibition by Gov. Bagley, of Mich igan, it will De deposited in indepen dence 11 all. In the Worcester (Mass.) exhibit in Machinery Hall can be seen the press on which was printed the first copy of tne Declaration or independence In this country, and from which Isaiat Thomas issued the Worcester Spy a cen tury ago. Xear the northern, end of Agricul tural llall is a nign octagonal windmill, covered with mossy shingles, and whi tened with flour and meal about the doors and windows. Within and with out it accurately represents what a mill was in the olden time. Antenthnsiastic visitor just returned from rniladelphla to Buffalo says there ought to be a law passed punishing with nne or imprisonment any American cit izen who does not go to see the Exhibi tion, unless be can produce certificates of absolute poverty or sudden death. " The representatives, of the educa tional departments of the various coun tries participating In the Exhibition are now holding informal conferences at the Pennsylvania Educational Building every lhurwlay and Saturday after noons, ihese meetings are generally of about an hour's duration. In the Main Building, Canadian Department, there is an exhibit which every American will admire, and which cannot fail to interest foreigners the educational exhibit from Ontario. This exhibit is a practical Illustration of the method so successfully adopted across the border for the instruction of youth, and which has so interested the educa tionalist visiting th Exposition. ' In the Woman's Department of tbe Centennial build ings there Is a case con taining flowers or fruit, or some other sort of woman's work, marked as for sale, with the addition that they are made by the descendants of Thomas Jefferson, wbo earnestly solicit orders. r orelgners may read lu this little card a sign i (leant commentary on the grati tude ot repuDlics, ana no dotiot they will read it. ' A prominent feature of thedisplav of the Pratt & Whitney Company, of Hartford, Conn., is the gages, the ac curacy and fit of which are remarkable. A specimen of the work of the finely made tools manufactured by the above concern Is exhibited in a pistol, which is shown in the condition in which it left the machines, without having un dergone any subsequent finishing oper ation. Both the finish and the tit of j lie parts are excellent. An original life-size profile paint ing of the head and shoulders of Wash ington has been put In room Xo. 44, of the annex to the Art Gallery. It is the property of James P. McKeen, of Wash ington, in the possession ot whose fam ily it has been or sixty years. It bears no date, but experts claim to find evi dence in the work that it was executed between 1773 and 1780 and by Wertmiil ler, who, at that time, lived in this city. One of the least understood, if not the least appreciated, sub-divbiions Into which the work of practically operating the mighty Centennial enterprise has been divided, is the department of ad missions, a bureau of inestimable im portance and exceptionably intelligent management. There are ICS employes, divided into six money groups, tonr groups of complimentary and exhibi tors' gates, three return pass check groups, and the wagon gate keepers. Speakiug of the extraordinary pro pensity of some of the visitors to the exhibition to handle and poke things, a Philadelphia correspondent says that if tbe angel Gabriel should light down among the visitors and stand around for awhile as a curiosity, they would pull every feattier out of his wings in less than half an hour. More than this, some of them would grumble because Gabriel wouldn't let them blow upon his trumpet or permit them to count his ribs with the ferules of their umbrellas. The sugar apparatus, next to the Corliss engine, may be considered as the most prominent exhibit in the Ma chinery Hall. The gigantic vacuum pan is elevated on great iron columns, three stories high. Inside are f.Hir cop per serpentines, and into these steam is led. The circulating pump and the centrifugal machines are placed on the first floor. On the second floor I a large receiver which receives tlie con tents of the pan after concentration, in the shape of a dense mass of semi-fluid material, a magma. This goes into the centrifugal machines, which separate the sugar from the molasses. The great vacuum pan is exhibited bv Messrs. Col well and Brother, of Xew York ; it Is 8 feet in diameter, and, in a single opera tion of three hours in duration, can pro duce fifteen hogsheads of sugar. - The railway cars are all American. The Harlan and Uollingsworth Compa ny, of Wilmington, Del., exhibit one broad and one narrow gage carriage. The broad gage car is superbly detora ted with mirrors and gilding, aud its interior woodwork is a marvel of artis tic workmanship. The narrow gage car is of plainer construction. The Jackson & Sbarpe Company display a parlor car built for the state use of the Emperor of Emperor of Brazil. It is constructed in sections, so that it may be taken apart and stored in the hold of a vessel. In the front portion is a bou doir fitted up with drab morocco seats, relieved by heavy magenta colored fringes. The carpet is a delicate drab covered with a tasteful flower pattern, and tbe curtains are green and gold. The furniture consist of elegant cabi nets, one for books, another to serve as a sideboard. Light is obtained from small stained glass window at the top. Adjoining the boudoir are a reading room, furuished in blue, and a writing room in crimson. Xext to these is the sitting room, plainly fitted with cane seated walnut chairs, but having su perbly Inlaid woodwork. The Pullman Car Company exhibit one of its magnlflclent hotel cars, con taining all the Improvements In tbe shape of kitchens, china and linen clos ets, refrleerators. etc The refrigera tor, we notice, is a square box hunH under tbe car. Another new feature is a large flange on the wheels, which, should the vehicle run off the track, will catch on the rail and prevent its going farther. RV8 II B2H7 - Rhode Island has J, 41 3,734 cotton spindles.' " " ' " Two "rickwick" clubs nourish in Cincinnati. Dom Pedro' running expenses as . a tourist are $2,200 a week. . The 'first colored girl' has just graduated from an Indianapolis high school. ' i - , . ' Several Xew -York thieves devote . all their time to canary birds hanging , in basement windows. An old land-mark, tbe "Mud The ater," has disappeared In Baltimore. It was erected in 1822. ' ' Revenge, Jacksonville. Florida,, shipped eleven tons of cucumbers north ward, tbe other day. . Colorado has voted to adopt the new constitution by a large majority. Denver City give 5,000 of iu Tbe biggest hog in the world. weighing 1,540 pounds. Is owned by Mr. William Bush, of Monroe Mo. Harvard College library now con tains 153,000 volumes. A large wing . Is being added to the present structure. Brick Pomeroy is speaking at the : ' west, delivering Centennial addresses ' at $1.30 a year, or $130 for the century. : A law suit begun in 1812, concern ing $400,000 has just been decided in ' England. Not a cent is left of the $400,000. ' In Jackson, Mo., a few days ago. a patriarch aged ninety-one years wa married to a widow wbo was sixtv-one years old. Oregon salmon are shipped direct to Liverpool, where the fish. In can, -bring from sixpence to a shilling (Eng lish money) a pound. A gentleman In Danbury. Conn.. has had perseverance- enouarh to take the temperance pledge eighty-three times and break It eighty-two. , The sheen clip in Colorado thin season U more than double that of any previous year, and the wool Improves in quality as well as In quantity. The Massachusetts savinirs bank are gradually yielding to the pressure of the hard times, and reducing their dividends to five per cent, a year. Major General James W. nusted. the "bald eagle of Westchester,' has been elected R. W. grand master of tbe grand lodge of Free-masons of Xew York. It was estimated the other day by a custom bouse official that America would burn up $5,000,000 worth of fire crackers this year, to say nothing of other fireworks. On the Columbia river, Oregon, no less than 40,000,000 pounds of salmon were caught last year, or four times the whole catch of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland. Xew Hampshire has passed a law compelling all State insurance compa nies to have a paid-up capital of $200, 000 which is a good thing for the larger corporations. President Clark Seelye, of the . Smith Woman's College in Northamp ton, Mass., has given five thousand dol lars toward purchasing an art collec tion for that institution. Chicago, which takes a census of itself twice a year, just to shame St. Louis, now announces a new one which shows a population of 536,673, "being a gain of 25,000 since last year. ' Madison, Wis., has this year nieta morphoised twenty-one maids into bachelors, as follows : One Bachelor of Arts, three Bachelors of letters, and seventeen Bachelors of Science. The Historical Society proposes to erect a mural monument in Morning side Park. Xew York, on September 16 to commemorate the Centennial anni versary of the battle of Harlem Plains. The oldest postmaster In the United States. "Uncle" Daniel Curtis, died a few days ago at his home in North . Dorset, Vu, aged eighty-seven years, lie was appointed by General Jackson. The recent funeral of Louis Phil ippe and his family cost $20,000. As they were very well buried before the removal of the bodies to Dreux, this seems an nn necessary piece of expendi ture. . The king of Spain has conferred the order of Charles III. on Mr. Schaus the Xew York picture dealer, as a mark of his majesty's appreciation of his conduct in the affair of the stolen Murillo. The tomb of Benjamin Franklin was decorated on the 4tb of July by members of tbe Philadelphia Insurance Patrol, with flowers and bunting. Among tbe decorations was a kite made of flowers, attracting attention. Captain Cook.of the Cunard steamer Russia, has made over three hundred consecutive voyages across the Atlan tic. On her next trip from New xork the Russia will carry as a passenger -Dom Pedro, the Emperor of Brazil. Mr. Eugar Rollin, of Xew York, issues a centennial challenge to all for eign and domestic tragedians to com pete with him for the championship in "King Lear," "Othello" and "Mac- beth," the contest to take place either, n Xew York or Philadelphia. O'Leary, the famous Chicago pe destrian and conqueror of Weston, has been badly defeated at San Francisco, where he undertook to walk a four day match against four amateur, whose miles were to be added together. At 217 mile on the third day he retired. The amateurs made 351 at its close. John I. Blair, the millionaire rail road builder, ha decided to build an 18 mile railroad from Blairstown. Warren county, N". J., to Delaware station on the Delaware, Lackawanna and West ern railroad, and equip it at a cost of $250,000, and present it to the people of Blairstown. Tbe farmer gave him the right of way. There are 900 lunatics in the three State Lunatic Hospitals of Xew York. On the average, each lunatic costs ever $6 a week. In the three similar insti tutions of Massoc hu.se Us. each lunatic costs less than $4 a week; and In the Willard Asylum tor the Insane in this State, the cost of maintaining each lu- " natic ia but little more than $3 a week. The trustees of the A. A W. Sprague manufacturing company of Providence, R. l. have given orders to shut down all their many mills and print works as soon as the stock caa be run out. Tbe cause is the present de-. pressed condition of the market for cot ton goods. The production will not be resumed until price are materially im proved. . . Tbe suggestion is made that a mon u ment be erected over the grave of William Floyd, one of tbe signers of the Declaration of Independence. He is buried in tbe village of WeatervLUe, In Oneida county, X. Y-, the spot being marked by a plain marble slab rearing upon four posts. Near by is the snon ument erected to the memory of Baron Steuben. Gen. Floyd was an ardent supporter of the rights of the colonies, and sacrificed a large property in the revolution 1 : 1 1 n s i i f : i! i: !i. ! ( ! i j I. M'1 ) t. i r 1 1 i I i. ; i 1
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers