- i I- I ' 1 .J ; i 0m B. F. SCHWEIER, . THE C05STITCTIOH THI U5I0S AND TH1 ISFOBCIMEST Of THE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor A OL. XXX. MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUOTY. PENNA.. OCTOBER 12, 1876. NO. 41. Siiifi ... .... iSp iicii SONG. t ecu, nuxm. Bolls the long breaker In plendor, and glanoas Leaping in light! Laughing and emguut the awift ripple danoea, Spaikiing and bright ; lp through the heaven the curlew is flying. Soaring so hih ! Sweetly his ild notee are ringing, and dying Loot in the sky. Glitter the sail- to the south -wind eareening. White-winged and brave ; Rawing to breeze and to hollow, and leaning Low o'er the wave. Beantif al wind, with the touch of a lover Lf-ading the boars. Helping the winter-woru world to reoorer All its lost flower. r.laJly I hear thy warm whisper of raptors. Sorrow is o'er ! Earth all her music and bloom shall recapture, Happy onoe more ! SaHmer't MofKh$. Lucy Wheeler. Do you ever judge, reader, of the character of the iu mates, from the phy siognomy of their houses? I do. And w heir the stage swept round the corner, I looked out eagerly, for aa the driver had told me, about ten rods up the road stood the house of Philander White. His wife was my mother's own cousin, and I was just thirteen years old when I went there to make -my first visit. There had been some quarrel between the two families, two or three score years anterior to my visit; and though my mother and Mrs. White never par ticipated in this, the feud of their an cestors had doubtless involved some coldness between them. But to cut a lonz story short, for the pen and paper gossip may be more dig nified, but not a whit better than tea table scandal, 1 bad been an invalid all the previous Winter. -When soft April days, to which my mother looked forward so eagerly, came, they brought no bljoui to my cheek, no vigor to my step. My constitution seemed to have lout all its recuperative power; and the doctor said: "Send her into the country, Mrs. May. If that don't help her, she is lost to you." Just before this Mrs. White had learned through a mutual friend of my illness, and the very day of the bluul physician's ultimatum brought a letter to my mother. For the sake of my old love," it read, "let all that may have come be tween you and me be lost in the plea sure of better memories. The hills ol Meadow brook are clothed again with greenness, and now in this late May is the time for Jennie to come to us. There is a prophecy of health for her iu the soft wind that lifts the edge ol my paper as I write. ' We know she is your all, and we will be very tender ol your ditrliug. Will you not trust her for a single Summer?" And before another week was passed my trunk was packed and marked, "Philander White, Meadow Brook." 1 looked out, as 1 have said, and there sat the pleasant white house, with its green window blinds, the shrubbery iu front, and the cherry trees behind. My heart went out to it, and at ouce; and it did a moment later, to the gentle voiced woman, and the fair, dark haired girl who rushed out on the broad front steps, and kissing my cheek, said : "Cousin Jennie, you are very wel come." But it is not all to tell you of that Summer, though I look across the gray year to its picture in the May land ol my memory, that I have taken up my pen this morning. Suffice it that the mountain breezes of Meadow Brook did their work well; and when in early Autumn my mother came for her child, she could hardly identify the rosy cheeked girl who rushed in with her curls dangling about her face, and held up her rosy lips for a kiss. 1 think it must have been nearly two months after my domestication at Aunt Mary's for so 1 call my mother's cousin, when Uncle Charles Brace, her hus band's brother, visited her. He was a minister, and Cora and I had antici pated the gentleman's advent with any thing but pleasant emotions. Our conceived notions of the clergy man's elongated visage, and solemn, puritanical manner, which we regarded as necessary concomitants of the pro fession, soon vanished before the beau tiful kindling of his smile, and the winning gentleness of his manner. He was Uncle Phil's youngest brother, and not more than twenty-eight at that time; and his religion had deepened and harmonized his fine poetic tem perament, without checking the outflow of that under-current of humor which sparkled through his character. Uncle Charles was soon our companion in our rides and rambles, aud our confidant In our girlish plans. "You don't really mean so, Uncle Charlie," aud Cora's bright face was lifted from the rosea and geraniums we w ere weaving Into the bouquet for the mantel. "You don't really think what you just said, that In every heart there is a fountain ; some blossom In the hu man wilderness of every souL" lie put down his paper and came to ward us. "I have not a doubt of it, my little girl. The story I was just reading, of the hardened old man who cried be cause a child gave him a bunch of mari golds, corroborates my remark. The light that is in us cannot quite become darkness; the hearts that might bring forth a hundred .folJi for harvests of heaven, will never become such desert but some good seed will take root there in." "I don't believe It would, though. In Farmer Keep. You dou't know him as well as I do. Uncle Charlie. Jle'a one of the richest men in all Meadow Brook ; he's worth thousands and thousand. He's a bachelor, you know, and lives in the great red house on the road to Woodbury, you remember. Well, be never goes to church, be never loved a l-uman being in bia life. Now don't think Farmer Keep why, Grandma Deane, how do you do?" The lady whose entrance put this sudden period to my cousin's perora tion, came slowly toward the rocking chair. Cora drew it out for her. She was the oldest lady In the village. The hair under her cap, white as hillside snow, bad Imprisoned the sunshine of fourscore and ten Summers; but she till retained much of the physical sta mina which with her active sentiment had made ber so vigorous a woman for many years. "What' that your saying, child, about Farmer Keep?" said the old lady, with a pleasant smile, as abe pinned ber knitting sheath to ber waist. "Why, I wa telling Uncle Charlie what a cold hard man he is. You've always known him, Grandma Deane, aud now did be ever do a good thing, or ever love anybody in his life?" "Yes, be loved a girl once, I think I remember." "Farmer Keep loved a girl one?" repeated Cora, with a half contemptu ous and wholly skeptical curl of her red lips. "She's forgotten," she added, in an undertone, to Uncle Charlie and me, for Grandma Deane was slightly deaf. "No, I haven't forgotten, neither," she said, placing her band on Cora's hair. "1 have held Lucy Reid on my lap too often, and rocked her cradle poor, little motherless thing! too many times to have forgotten." Cora's look of incredulity was giving way to one of curiosity. "Grandma Deane, won't you tell us all about it? Jennie and I will sit down on the stool, and 1 know by that look in Uncle Charlie's eye, he wants to hear it, too. Come, let the flowers go, Jennie;" and my vivacious cousin established herself at the old lady's feet. Grandma Deane slipped the yarn around her little finger, and com menced : "Let me see it cannot be more than forty-two or three years this Summer since Justin Keep came up to Farmer Reid's to let himself out fur the harvest boy through harvesting. "The Beid house stood a little this side of Stony Creek. There is nothing left of it now except the chimney, and it looks out gray and bold from the grass all about it ; but forty years ago it was a fine old place, with lilacs iu j front, and the bop vines running all around the back. I "Lucy was hardly three weeks old when she lost her mother. Her father never married again, and the child grew up there in the old home as fair and sweet as the flowers about It. "She was turning into fifteen when Justin came that Summer. He was a shy, strange sort of a lad, and the neighbors said Farmer Reid would uever get the salt for bis porridge out of him. "He'd been bound out until he was 18 to some man down in Maine, and be hadn't a relation in the world he knew of, nor a decent suit of clothes, when he came to Fanner Reid's bouse. But for all that, Justin proved a smart, likely boy, and the farmer, who some how was never very beforehanded I always thought his wife's sudden death hurt him found that Justin was a real prize. I "At first he was gloomy and silent, doing his work and taking little notice of anybody. But be couldn't stand it long before Lucy. I wouldn't like to have the heart that that girl's smile wouldn't have thawed out. "She was just like a bird around the old place, singing from morn till night, and her blue eyes, that were like her mother's, seemed to be sending out one laugh and ber lips another. I never woudered her father doted on her as he did, and of course Justin wasn't long in the house before she tried to make friend with him. "Poor fellow! it must have seemed very strange to him at first, for I dou't believe anybody had given him a kind word until he came to Meadow Brook. "But be made ladders for her flower vine to ran on, and got shells for the borders, and propped up the dahlias, and did a thousand other things which took them out into the gardes after supper, and made them the best of friends. "Lucy bad a playful, childish way about ber. that made her seem much younger than she was: then she was small of ber age, so that at fifteen she did not seem a bit older than you are, Cor. "Well, she rode on top of Justin's hay cart, and helped him husk corn in the barn, and pretty won the farmer noticed a change in Justin. 'He got him a new suit of clothes, and bis face lost it down look, and after harvesting Farmer Reid made him an offer to tarry all Winter. "So Justin stayed, taking Lucy's ad vice, and went to the district school, and, though he had no education be fore, he went ahead of many an older scholar that Winter. "So Justin stayed with the farmer four years; then he had a good oiler somewhere in New York State, and concluded to stop for the Winter only. "Lucy Reid bad grown into a young woman by this time, and a handsomer one, children, these dim eyes never looked upon. 1 don't know how It happened, for Lucy might have had her pick among the boy for mile around, but somehow she took to Jus tin; and when be left they were en gaged to be married one year from that time." "Why, Grandma Deane! you ain't going to stop now!" cried Cora, In alarm ; for the old lady had laid down her knitting. "No, my child," he said, moving her spectacles and wiping her eyes; "but the rest is a sad story, and I must hurry over It. "I don't exactly know bow it hap pened, but that Winter Lucy' father got Into a terrible law suit with Squire Wheeler. There was some flaw in the title, and the people said It wa plain the old man should let the homestead "They said, too, he'd never survive it, and better perhaps he never bad, .v.. i. if h did; hut one day UIWJ myw - , Soulre Wheeler, to all the nelghbor- . . . - . .Ua hood astoulsnmeni, roue over w im farm. "What he did there was never exactly known, but in a little while it was ru mored that the suit was withdrawn, and next Spring Lucy Reid was to be married to his son, Stlllman W heeler. And so it was. One bright March day. she went to the old church yonder and gave herself to him. "Ho was a good looking man, but never over smart, the neighbor whis pered; and I always thought that it was his father's money more than any thing else that kept him up." "But Justin, Grandma Deane what became of him?" "There U a dark look about the whole matter. Lucy was made the victim of some terrible falsehood. I never blamed her father, for the losing of the home stead seemed completely to shatter bim. ''I only know that Squire Wheeler and his son were at the bottom of it, and that Lucy Reid went to the altar believing that Justin had been false to ber." "Dear me, how dreadful ! did he ever come back?" "Yes, the next May. Lucy bad been a wife two months. Justin bad not beard of ber marriage. She was at home visiting her father. When she first saw him, she fell down like one stricken with a fit. But be carried her into the house and there learned all. Both had been deceived. "it was a terrible scene the old front room witnessed. Justin swore venge auce and it was not till, with clasped hands and streaming eyes, the young wife knelt to the ouly man she ever loved, and pleaded for the life of her husband that he promised for her sake to spare his life. "But from the day of Justin's visit Lucy was a changed woman. All the light and gladness of her being seemed dead in ber. She moved about ber bouse pale and quiet, with a look of patit-nt suffering In her ouce sunny eyes, that made my heart ache to be hold." "And her husband did she ever tell him what she bad learned." "I think not. His. father and Lucy's had died in less than two years after the marriage. The Squire was a much less wealthy than was supposed. The next Spring Lucy and ber husband moved West, and somehow people lost sight of them." "And Justin?" "You know the rest, my child. He became a moody, uuhappy man, asking no sympathy aud giving none. But he was always smart at a bargain, and in a few years he had laid up enough to buy Deacon Plait's farm when his son went South. "Ever since, he has added acres to his lands and hundreds to the bank; but for all that, he 1 a man soured to ward all his race, a man who was never known to give a little child a smile, or a beggar a crust of bread. "I have sometimes thought his heart was like a desert, without a tree to shade or a stream to gladden it. And yet it bore a bright blossom once ; and believe me, children, for It is the word of an old woman who has seen and knows much of the ways of man, it is always so. The heart may be a great wilderness, but In some of its byways there has grown a flower." Cora and 1 looked at each other, and at Uncle Charlie. Just then Aunt Mary came in. She bad been out, and not beard of Grandma Deane's visit. But Cora stole up to ber uncle, and, winding her arms about his neck, whis pered : "I shall believe it always, Uncle Charlie, now I have heard the story of Farmer Keep, that there is a blossom in the wilderness ot every heart." It was a sultry August day, in the Summer I passed at Meadow Brook. The wind, low and slumbrous as the hush of a mother's voice at nightfall, crept up among the corn, and down among the rye and wheat fields, that lay like broad green folds about the dwelling of Farmer Keep. There was no poem of flowers about the front yard; no graceful harmonizing touches of creeping vine or waving cur tains about the old red homestead ; and yet it bad a quiet, substantial, matter of tact physiognomy, that somehow made a heme feeling about vour heart. I think it must have been this uncon scious home feeling which decided the course of the girl who stood at the point where the roads diverge, and gazed wistfully about her that afternoon. She seemed very tired, and her coarse straw bonnet and calico dress were cov ered with dust. If you had looked in her face you would not have forgotten it. It could not have seen more than fifteen Summers. It was very pale, aud its sweet, sad beauty made you think of nothing but Summer flowers drenched with Summer rains.' Her eye were of that deep moist blue that rolls ou: from under the edge ol April clouds, and her Hps, ripe and full, had that touch of sorrowfulness about them, which tells you always the heart beneath is full of tears. The girl's hand clasped tightly the little boy' by her side. The resem blance between them would have told you at once they were brother and sis ter, but his life could not have covered more than a third of hers. The little fellow's eyes were full of tears, and the bright curls that crept out from his bat were damp with mois ture. A few minutes later she opened the broad back gate and w nt to the kitchen door. Farmer Keep's ho isekeeper an old woman, with yellow nightcap and check apron tied over her linsey wool skirt, answered her knock. "Do you want any help, or do you know of any one round here that does ?" timidly aked the girl. The old lady peered at her with dim eyes. ' "No," said she. "There ain't but four on us Farmer Keep and the two hired men, and me. It' harvest time just now, though, and I reckon you'd find a place In the village." "Thank you.' Benule here, my little brother, is tired, for we walked from the depot. Can you let us come in and rest for a while?" ' "Sartin VOU Can." " ' The sight of the child touched tbe heart of the woman, and they went Into the large kitchen, and sat down In the flag flottomed chairs, while with glow ing cheek the girl cast about in her mind for tbe best manner In which to present ber petition for food. Before she bad decided, the master of the house suddenly entered the kitchen , for it was nearly dinner time. He was a large, muscular, broad-chested, sun burned man, with a bard, gloomy ex pression on his face, where fifty years were now beginning to write their his tory. He stood still with surprise, gazing on the new occupant of the kitchen ; and the boy drew close to his sister, and the girl threw up a timid, fright ened glance into tbe gloomy face. "You don't know of anybody round here that want a little help, do ye, farmer?" asked tbe woman. "Here 'a a little girl thatwanta a place, and as she's walked from the depot, I told ber she might come in and rest a bit before she went up into the village to try her luck." "No," shortly answered the farmer. "Dinner ready ?" And tbe rich man turned away without one gentle word or kind look for two homeless children whom God had brought to hi door. "Lucy, Lucy, don't stay here; I'm afraid." And the little boy's Hp curled and quivered as he turned his face from the farmer's. "Lucy, Lucy," bow those little, trem bling tones went down, down, down, into the man's hard heart! How the dead days of his youth burst out of their graves, and rushed through bis mem ory at that low, broken, "Lucy, Lucy !" He turned and looked at tbe girl; not sourly, as before, but with a kiud aud eager quetionlng Interest. "What's your name?" "Lucy Wheeler, sir." He staggered back and caught hold of tbe nearest chair. "And what was your mother's?" "Lucy Reid. She used to live at Meadow Brook. So I came here to get work; she told me to before she died." At that moment the angels looked. down and saw the seed that had lain for two score years in the heart of Jos eph Keep spring up, and the flower: blossom in the wilderness. He strode across the kitchen to th bewildered girl. He brushed back her , bonnet and turned her face to the light. He could not be mistaken. It was the one framed and hung In the darkened room In his souL The blue eyes of Lucy looked again in his own. At that moment the little boy pushed in be tween them, and gazed wistfully In tbe man's face. Farmer Keep sat down and took tbe child In his arms. He tried to speak, but Instead great sobs came and heaved bis strong cbest. The trio in tbe kitchen gazed at him in mute astonishment. "Lucy's children, Lucy's children !" he murmured at last, in a voice whose tenderness was like that of a mother. "God has sent you to me. For ber sake this shall be your home. For her sake I will be a father to you." Five years after, Cora wrote to me : "We are having fine times now, dear Cousin Jennie, and mamma wants tc know if you do not need to renew your rosy cheeks among the dews of Meadow Brook. Uncle Charlie is with us, and if you were also, our happiness would be complete. "Lucy Wheeler you remember her has the place in my heart next to yours. Her disposition is as lovely as her face, and that is saying a great deal, for its sweet beauty does oue good to behold it. Farmer Keep seems to idolize her and Bennie. He Is a charm ing man, now ; he goes to church regu larly every Sabbath. He spares no pains or expense in Luey's education, and she will be an accomplished wo man. She is here very often, and 1 have suspicions that Uncle Charlie but no matter, I will not trust this to pen and paper. "But now, Jennie, what a lesson has all this taught me ! How It has deep ened my faith in God and humanity. "Now, when my heart yearns over the wretched sinning outcast, I remem ber always that there Is a flower in the wilderness." The wis ef Seta. The Doets have created impressions concerning wines which are not easily effaced. The picturesque idea of mai dens of "milk-white ankles plashed with red," engaged In the wine pressing oi the East is, however, dispelled at the realistic sight of a couple of hairy-leg ged, perspiring Albanians tramping down the grapes In a rude vat. The wine which tlanz sang prooaoiy owes most of iu virtue to his poetic fancy; but everything is relative. The red wineofShiraz which be extolled was undoubtedly the bst he ever knew, and he bottled it in enduring rhyme for pos terity ; the wine no longer exists, but the marvelous bottle remains to attest to the poetical imagery of the Persian singer. The wine which Homer sang was probably a sweet one from the de scriptive words applied to it, of a murky body and a darn color, ana possioiy contained an Infusion of poppies. The masters of the lyre gave to the Falernian wine Its reputation, especially Horace. Their testimony as to superior quali ties must be doubted when it is re mem be red that these Romans were in the habit of putting sea water Into their wine to improve it, to say nothing of other Ingredients. The Lachrynue Christ!, ol Naples, la said to be the lin eal descendant of the Falernian of Hor ace by some wbo have made researches in this direction. The "Tears ol Christ," belter known by reputation than by taste.is a product of the volcaulc soils ol Vesuvius, the best kind being grown at Galilta. Tbe name appeals strongly to the imagination, but tbe virtue of the wine hardly equals Its reputation. Pil grims and devout people created the vogue which once existed fot this wine, and doubtless when they drank it thought that if they bad not found It perfect they would have been lacking in reverence. In a word, taste had to be reconciled with religious obligations. Galaxy. - Pre-eminence is swet to those who love It, even under mediocre circum stances; perhaps it is not quite mythi cal that a slave ha been proud to be bouB-ht first: and nrobably a barn-door fowl on sale, though be may not have understood himself to be called the best lot, may have a self-informed conscious ness of his relative Importance and strut nnnanlaul Rnt fnp MUnnletS) enlOVmCnt the outward and Inward must concur. Wfee ate stt. In the waiting room at one end of the depots in a flourishing Western city, might have been seen recently two wo men, one young and handsome, the oth er old and ugly. Thu various trains rushed in and out, the last passenger train for some hour bad departed, but still they sat, these two women. One remark led to another, until they were chatting quite confidentially. The young woman in turn became com municative, and said her lover was coming on in the midnight train, and that she was going with bim to the next station to be married. Whereupon tbe old lady said she had bad much experi ence in the "marriage business," and would give the young lady some advice, and here is what she said : ?Well, child, never marry a railroad er, for be is liable to be killed at any time. Besides, he has such a nice chance to flirt. "Never marry a military man, for he is liable to go to war and get shot. Be sides his gorgeous clothes attract the attention of the women. "Never marry a hotel keeper. My first husband was a hotel keeper and fell through the elevator opening and broke his darned skull. It riles me when i think of that man. "Never marry a traveling man, for he's always away from bum. Nobody knows what these men are up to when they are away from bum. "Never marry a steamboater. My second husband was a steamboat cap tain and got bio wed Into 4,000,000 pieces, blast biro ! I always get terribly mad when I think of that man. "Never marry a dry goods man. Dyes In cloths Is so injurious. They never live half their days. Never marry a grocer. They have such dirty bands. My third husband was a grocer, and such hands as he'd have was nuf to make a body sick. He was killed by a molasses barril fallin on him. When I think of him I m com pletely disgusted. "Never marry a carpenter. My fourth husband was a carpenter, and fell off a scaffold and was smashed to a jelly. May his soul sleep lu peace. "Never marry a machinist. My fifth husband was a machinist. I'll never forget the day he was brought home on a board. I didn't recognize bim. A belt bad come off a pully and bit bim plump in the face, and spread his nose all over his countenance. I promised bim on bis dyin' bed that I'd never marry another machinist. Just then the train rolled in, and the old lady asked : "Child, what business is your lover In?" "Insurance business." "O, mercy you don't mean to matry him ! My sixth husband was an insur ance " But the young lady was gone to meet her lover. Hoek Vises. The term Hock, by which all Rhenish wine Is designated lu England, Is des Ignated in England, is derived from Uockheim, near Castel ; but the district that produce the clioicest wine lies between Bieberich and Asmannshausen, extending northward as far as tbe Rau enthal, close to Schlangenbad. Here Is the Johannisberg, with its famous cel lars, where you may drink wine at eighteen and more florins a bottle; more inland the Steinberg, whose two vine yards bear the appropriate designations of "Golden Cup" and Rosegarden," and where the vine was first cultivated about 1177 by tbe monks of the adjoin ing monastery of Eberbach, a stately building, but seldom visited by the tour ist, though the lover of choice wines ought instinctively to be drawn to it; for here in iu vaults are tbe "Cabinet" cellars, where specimens of the best vintages since the year 1700 are stored up in mighty casks, each cak furnished with a bright bras tap. Double walls and shady groves Inclose the cabinet cellars, and their treasures of Rudeshei- mer. Hock, Uattenhetmer, Llebfrauen- milcb, what a poetic name for wine, and especially Rhenish wine, which Is in deed milk for the aged : Marcobrunner and Steiuberger. The ancient monks were great lovers of good wine, aud also good judges, and it is upon the monks of Eberbach that tbe time-honored an ecdote of the key with its leather label, which gave to tbe wine the twang of iron and leather, Is rightly fathered. Tbe ancient refectorium of the monas tery also deserves attention. Since the year 1817 tbe recesses be- j tween the fourteen columns with ex quisite capluls,whlcb support the roof, and which ancieutly contained altars dedicated to wine presses; and where once tbe hideous represenution of the mythical blood of some fabulous martyr was worshipped, we may now behold and taste tbe golden drops of tbe real Lachrymx Chrlsti. To tbe north of the Steiuberg is the Rauenthal, producing a wine which excels even the famous Johannlsberger. At the Congress of Princes, held at Frankfort in 1SC3, Rau enthal wine at eighteen florins the bot tle was served ; and when the corks were withdrawn iu fragrance filled the lof ty ball of the Romer. Either by a dispute about titles, or in consequence of the French-invasion, the gathering of the grapes in the Johannis berg vineyards was deferred in tbe year 1811 until the grapes bad apparently been almost destroyed by frost and wet. But Messrs. Mumm, the wholesale wine merchnnU of Frankfort-on-the-Maln, purchased from Marshal Kellermann on whom Napoleon I had bestowed the beautiful domain of Johannisberg the vinuge which had already been given up as lost; and the "edelfanlen" grapes of that viutage vlnUge bud the founda tion of the great wealth and flourishing business of the firm of Mumm. For It was found that the frost eliminates tbe watery particles of tbe grape, leaving behind the saccharine and alcohol. whereby what la lost In quantity Is made up two and three fold in quality. Tbe vintage along tbe whole Rhine commence between the beginning of October and the end of November. Tbe opening as well as the closing day are fixed and publicly announced by tbe local authorities, In conjunction with the large proprietors of vineyards. On tbe left bank of the Rhine the sig- I nals for commencing and ending the I day' labor is given by the firing of guns; on the right, by ringing the church bells. Of the ancient vintners' festival at which a young peasant, astride on a cask, represented Bacchus, and was surrounded by village maidens dressed as Bacchantes only the memory remains; modern refinement improves all the poetry off tbe face of the earth. Tbe Rbineland has in these latter days been rather fortunate in its vintages; those of 1857, 1858, 1350, 1S61, 1862, ltC5. etc., yielded such exquisite wines that the connoisseurs were fairly puzzled to whiob to award the palm. In former centuries a good vintage was reckoned on only once in eleven years; the grea ter success which now attends the ef forts of the vine-grower may therefore fairly be attributed to improved methods of cultivation. London Stwt. The Old aid. If the fact of being an old maid is uch an unfortunate circumstance as many seem to suppose, one would natu rally think it were necessary to set the poor creature in the pillory of our dis dain for every low-minded passer to pelt with bard words and contempt. If it is such an enviable thing to marry wisely and we believe it is, In spite of St. Paul's assurance that those who re frain do better surely those fortunate beings who have escaped the terrors of single blessedness (by no grace of their own, perchance) should hasten to be stow tenderness and sympathy upon the less lucky portion of the race rath er than ridicule. The old maid has be come the legitimate object of the most withering sarcasm in literature, equally with the miser and the mother- in-law. She is represented as always angling for a husband, as sour tempered, and possessed of a venomous spite against younger aud more attractive members of her sex, as aping the airs and attire of giddy girlhood. She is al ways lar.k and tall and awkward, with corkscrew curls and a Roman nose, aud a hundred devices to conceal the rava ges of the traitor Time. There is small doubt, however, that thanks are due to the slight estimation in which the spin ster is held by the thousand and one foolish marriages that occur in our midst. Nobody wants to be a laughing stock; and there is many a silly woman wbo, Indoctrinated with the popular idea of an oid maid, feels that ber ouly salvation lies in avoiding such a fate ; that her only hope of consideration and dignity Is In matrimony, and acts accordingly. We do not pretend to say that the caricature of the old maid Is not justified in some instances; but why should we exalt an exception into a rule, or judge a class by an Individual? And would marriage correct all the fol lies of a weak character, think you? Would she not prove quite as ridiculous as a matron? And have we not met with many a wife with follies as strik ing and vanities as degrading as the typical spinster to whose wisdom it seems almost a cruelty toint.net the rearing of children ? The small regard with which the single woman is held Is due to the pop nlar fallacy that marriage is the su preme good this side of heaven, that she who does not achieve It must be looked upon as a social failure, and to the equally mistaken notion that it is only tbe attractive and lovable women who atuin it. There has come to be almost as much of contempt in the term as in that of the mountebank. A prim style of dress, fastidiousness in the use of language, repugnance to coarse allu sions, are called "old maidish," as if that was enough to frighten one into a vulgar hoyden, while even the precise and careful housekeeper earns the compliment of having been " cut out for an old maid." Strange to say, this is a misfortune which every body feels privileged to crack bis feeble joke upon, and though it is. not very customary to laugh at the miseries of each other, yet the case of the old maid is adjudged before the witnesses are called in ; in fact, many love to cherish the belief that her condition is not a matter of choice but of grim necessity ; that she has never wed because she was never wooed. And, supposing this were true, supposing she never did have the highly desirable opportunity of changing her estate, without which life is a mistake, failing which one bad bet ter never have been born, shall we who sit in the high places, in the sunshine of love and happiness, Uunt her with her infinite loss, when it may be that she was moulded of clay too fine for the perception or appreciation of the men with whom she happened to be thrown? Did she choose it this single life? Goawp, she smith doc. and wbo can tell? Bat many a mother and many a wife Draws a lot more louely, we all know wtlJL And perhaps the old maid is the least lonely person in all tbe world. For more are the children of the desolate than of tbe married wife, wbo has her own selfish interests, we know, ber own narrow, sphere, while all humauity Is the home circle of the desolate old maid. Dearth ta rrleadhla. Many friendship has been broken and destroyed by coldnesss of manner; hard words are no competitors at all, for they are so often satisfactorily explained It is frequently said that "like begets like," and I believe that is often so. If we meet with acquaintances wbo grasps our band cordially, and give it a generous and hearty shake, and their countenance lights up with a cheerful smile as they utter a pleasant and wel come salutation, if we are feeling dull and moody, we are, or at least should at once be ashamed of tnat feeling, and in stantly put forth our energies to disguise and banish it. If, ou the contrary, we meet with ene who repels our very at tempt to be cordial by a studied coolness of manner, we very soon become im Dervlous to any reulal feeling for him. and a larger stock of pride springs to our aid than we ever dreamed our heart possessed, and a gulf 1 then and there formed over which a passable bridge can never be erected. Two registered letter lost by a mail agent In Mercer County. Pnn sylvanla, over a year ago, were found in an old worn out man nag last w, The letters contained $80. ftrleatiae Prlaelatle er Tegetarlaav BBS). Foods are divisible into two great classes the organic and tbe inorganic: that is to say, those that have possessed life and those that have not. Now the latter are of incalculable service in the metamnrphoeis of organic foods in the living body, and comprise saline and mineral matters and water. We can not at present in ail cases tell exactly wby iron, sulphur, chloride of sodium, phosphorus, and fluorine are indis penstble to the maintenance of life, but we know that they are; and the brain. tbe bones, tbe blood, and indeed every living; tissue incorporate into their structure some mineral matter. The organic constituents of fond may be divided in a variety uf ways into several classes, bnt whether deiived from the animal or tbe vegetable world, or com prising portionsof both, always include carbonaceous and nitiogeneoiis com pounds; the former are divisible into tbe hydro-carbons (or fatty) and tbe carbo-hydrate (or saccharine.) Now as the phenomena of nutrition prin cipally depend on the interchange of oxygen and nitrogen and carbon under the- stimulus of that subtle something called life, it is also possible to consider the nutritive values of foods according to tbe quantities of carbon and nitro gen present in tbem. But since the value of the carbonaceous constituents of sugar is little more than two-tilths that of those of fats, it becomes neces sary to calculate carbon, so that, whether contained in fatty or starchy compounds, it should be reduced to some common measure. Starch is gen erally adopted for this purpose. The nutritive values of different foods may accordingly be correctly represented by the grains of carbon and nitrogen a pound freed from water contains. Tbe difficulty which next presents it self is accordingly this : if at least two hundred grain of nitrogen and four thousand of carbon must be contained in the food daily consumed to support life and strength, would any whole some food, whatever its source, pro vided it contained these quantities of nitrogen and rarlioo, satisfy the re quirements of the human svstem ? We can positively and emphatically answer yes. provided the diet is pleasantly varied and well cooked. But suppose additional proof is demanded. It' is forthcoming. We have discovered that all foods contain certain alimentary principles chemically identical, whether derived from the Biatrial or the vege table kingdom. On a due supply of these alimentary principles the human body is dependent, and on their beiug supplied in sufficient and scientific pro portions the maintenance of lite and health bangs. This statement requires illustiation. Nothing would have been easier than to construct dietaries con sisting of flesh or vegetables alone, or of both in agreeable proportions, any of which might have contained almost exactly two hundred grains of nitrogen and four thousaud of carbon. But in terminable and acrimonious disputes would have raged as to whether the vehicle in which these quantities of carbon aud nitrogen were conveyed into the body weie wholesome or not. It is now known that foods coutaiu nitrogenous and catbonacenus com poundsas for example albumen, legu men, ti brine, syntonic, gluten, casein, starch, and cellulose; aud this is the all iinpoilaut fact, that the chemical com position of some of these alimentary principles, whether derived from ani mal or from vegetable sources, is not ouly nearly the same, but actually chemically iudistiuguishable. The casein of milk cannot be told from that of peas and beans; the fj brine of meat is like that of wheateu dour and the cauliflower; the albumen of the. cab bage aud that of the white of the egg are identical, and animal and vegeta ble cellulose are alike. The ablest and acutent chemist would be unable to tell the source, animal aud vegetable, from which perfectly pure specimens of these principles, separated from all foreign matters, were otitaiueu. hat a discovery is this- It amounts to saying that science canuot point out any difference between pureaud whole some alimentary vegetable principles aud animal one simply b?cause there is no difference between them. Thus we see how emphatically we can main tain that a vegetable diet, whether it includes milk, cheese, and eggs or not. can be wholesome, and can supply the body with everything it can possibly require. That is tantamount to say ing that health and strength ran lie as easily kept up upon it as on a purely ani-nal diet or a nitxeu one. But we have not auue disposed of our difficulties, aud to what follows I mnst invite tbe reader a close attention. Alimentary principle are rarely eaten pure, but in tbe vast majority of cases are taken combined with flavoring and coloring matters, aud to the latter the various articles ot onr diet owe the peculiar and subtle differences which make one food apparently altogether uulike another; and these flavoring matters it is that make oue food palat able and another nauseous. It has been asked whether it might not there fore be found that the savory flavor of meat stimulate the Dalate aud promote digestive processes. Asa set-off, the disciple of vegetarianism contend tbal it is piecisely these rich and subtle flavors which make animal food injuri ous and that all-wise Nature intended man to live on simpler and purer foods. Wbo can decide when doctors disagree, It hough many eminent physiologists fully indorse the vegetarian argu ment T Undoubtedly tbe highly fla vored and rich dishes brought to the tables of tbe wealthy are tempting to the palate and pleading to tbe eye, out their use makes it difficult to enjoy and thrive on purer aud simpler foods. From rich and stimulating dishes come disease, indigestion, and death, while simple diets are conducive to long lite and prosperity; and although nothing is easier than to acquire the taste for highly flavored animal foods, it is peifectly easy for those accus tomed to it to thoroughly enjoy an unmixed vegetarian diet. All theories must, however, oe brought to tbe crucial test of experi ment to make tbem of real service to mankind. Experience on the largest noseible scale, extending over many ceuturiesshows that persons who keep to a vegetarian diet enjoys vigorous health and a remarkable immunity from disease, nor can it be urged that their enio nient of life is in any way diminished. It is certainly not neces sary for a vegetarian to be an ascetic, and deprive himself of some of the en joyments of the table. 1 no aigesuve organs are alter a tune Btrengineneu and adapted, so that inconvenience does not follow the consumption of vegetables on a large scale. Radical and sudden changes in the mode of life are certainly often attended by temporary discomfort; but it is aston ishing bow easily tne stomacn assimi late vegetables, and bow soon it capacity for the digestion of meat dim inishes; at last, indeed, the inclination for meat vanishes Tiiulevt Uajtizine. Four young ladies from the east recently camped out in South Carolina for a couple of weeks. They started from Santa Baabara in a large camp- wagon, drawn by mules, and driven by a gray-haired teamster. They carried a tent, blankets and pillows, provisions fishing-tackle, guns and ammunition, aud a Dottle of whisky ; had a splendid time, shooting quails, gathering dowers aud talking poetry. . With tbe excep tion of tbe gray-haired teamster no man dared to show bis ugly face In camp. IXWS EI BSH7- Tomatoes were Introduced Into this country In 1814. Americans consume ten times as much champagne as the French. The expense of the Onio state fair this year exceeded the receipts about $C,5U0. A New London man has a collec tion of "war envelopes" embracing 1,400 designs. The total quantity of salmon caught In the Canadian waters this year wa about 950,000 pounds. Gen. Joseph E. Johnston is spoken of for the position of adjutant-general of tbe Virginia militia. According to The Jewish Review, Chicago has a Jewish population of 30 000, with ten congregations. The Sioux were not represented at the Philadelphia Convention of tbe I m proved Order of Red Men. The first choice of a box for the first night of Edwin Booth' season In San Francisco was sold by auction for fl!5. Mr. George Bancroft is working lu the literary way at Newport, and is said to be more like a man of forty-live than of seventy. Willis Alexander, a colored gen tleman, has walked a thousand miles to tind bis wife. Some men would have walked the other way. The song of "The Star-Spangled Banner" was first set in type by Mr. S. S Sands, editor of the American Far mer, who is still living in Baltimore. An Indianapolis vinegar manufac turer has purchased 10,OUU bushels of apples in Fayette and Rush counties, at 14 cents per "bushel, to make into cider. The clemency of princes is some times exercised for vanity sometimes for idleness soiuttiiues for fear, aud nearly always for the three combined. One third of the year's applicants for admission to Middlebury College, Vt., have been rejected on account of the elevation of the standard of quali fication. John Quincy Adams, the father of Charles Frauds Adams, was defeated for Governor of Massachusetts a few years after he had retired from the Presidency. The first cargo of slates from the United States has arrived in England. They are said to be equal in quality to those found in the Welsh quarries, and much cheaper. Spanish mackerel are very abun dant and large this season. Those from the New Jersey coast weigh from seven to eight pounds and those from Long island two pounds each. Iu some old work of the mound builders, near Jamesville, Ga., was re cently discovered a mica mine, which is yielding largely. The product brings from 2.5t) to per pound. While railroad development In other parts of the United States baa been utterly paralyzed since the panic of 1873, the Southe'rn Pacific has built COO miles of trunk line, with important branches. About 150,(H0 persons in the United States are constantly employed in pro ducing sawed lumber, aud 1,395,000 laths, '2,205,000,01)0 shingles, aud 12-, 750,0U0,MOO feet of lumber are manu factured annually. A sea turtle, weighing 700 pounds, seven feet and a half long and six aud a half wide, the largest ever seen on the northern coast, bas been caught in Vineyard Sound, near Wood's Hole, Mas. It is to be placed in the Cam bridge museum. The Archbishop of Rheims, France has refused to allow some flint Instru ments and prehistoric remains to be shown at an antiquarian exhibition shortly to te opened at Kheiuis, on the plea luat they tended to throw discredit on Biblical chronology. The opera house which is to be built in San Francisco, aud leased to the .Strakosch Brothers, is to have one hundred boxes, half ol them owned by stockholders. The building is to be plain iu exterior, but very elaborate and beautiful internally. The population of France in 1S72 was 3t:,lU7,921, aud is now estimated at a!ut ,,0"jti,ot.'0. In the year 1700 it was l'J,b.y,J-'0. it has not, therefore douhled in 170 years. The annexation of .VUace and I-orraine to Germany in is, l caused a loss ol l,Mt.l-i. Another State is talked of. It is proposed that California shall be cut in twoalong the lineof Santa Cruz County, with fourteen Southern counties for the new commoi. wealth, which will have about 15U.0U0 inhabitants, 30,000 voters, and taxable property estimated atflOO.OUO. A recent report from the depart ment of buildings in New York gives the estimated cost of buildings iu the city in 1S70 at $:,6llO,OtlO, in JS71 37-, 500,000, and in 1S75 fl8,200,0U0. No better proof could be given that the building was in excess of the demand at the lime it seemed to be most prosper ous. The oldest church building in America, erected by Euglish settlers, is believed to be St. Luke's of Isle of Wight County, Va. It has been stand- ing since 1S&2. It is proposed to restore it, and, as the Episcopalians of that part of the state are "few and poor," the Church iu general is appealed to for funds for this purpose. The annual reiiort of the Central Park (New York) Menagerie has just been made public. From it it appears that at tbe close of the fiscal year there were, In tbe institution, 62t animals, valued in all at .0,i)&. The cost of maintaining the collection for last year ras $17,080.92, an increase of $2,0U0 over the previous twelve-month. In digging on the northern boun dary of the park, near the Jewells' es tablishment, in liartlord, conn, tbe workmen came upon the log pines of the old aqueduct which were laid in 178'J W. I he log, being cut, was found to be sound, and the water inside in good condition. The logs here had made a sort of pocket by a depression. The export of American beef to Greatt Britain shows a gratifying in crease. Since last July American cat tle have been received at Glasgow to the number of from oue hundred and fifty to two hundred and fifty head per week. Dressed meat has also been Im ported there regularly, the average quantity being one hundred and fifty carcases weekly. DriBklwff t'eaatajBS la Paris. There are forty of the "Fontaine Wallace" in the city of Paris, and ten more are to be erected, all at tbe cost of the benevolent gentlemen whose name they bear. There are also, it ' may be worth noting, nearly 35,000 cafes, or public houses, within the same space, to sav nothing of tbe 180 music halls and 230 pnblie ball-rooms, where . "refreshment" of various .degree) of " alcoholic power may be obtained at ex , orbitant prices. Taking the population . of Paris in round numbers at 1,000,000, . it will be seen that there i one free fountain to every 40.000 persons, and one drinking shop to every 80.