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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
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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.