Sillily B B. F.SCHWEIER, THB CONSTITUTION TH1 UHI03I AND THB ENFORCEMENT 07 THI LAWS. Editor nd Proprietors - VOL. XXX. MIFFLIXTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY. PEXXA.. WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 1. 1876. NO. 44. WHAT THE OWL INOWS. Nobody knows the world bnt me, When they're mil in bed I Bit np to sec ; I'm a better student than student all. For I never read till tbe darkness fall : And I nevrr read without di glasses. And that ia how my wisdom passes. I can see tbe wind. Now who can do that ? I see tbe dreams that be ha in his hat : I see him snorting them out as he goes Out of his stupid old trumpet nose. Ten thousand things that too couldn't think, I write them down with pen and ink. Von mar call it learning I call it wit. Who else can watch the lady-mson sit Hatching the boats and the leng-legced fowl. On her nest the sea all nuh(, but the owl ? When the ousters gape to sing by rote She crams a pearl down each stupid throat. So you see I know you may pull off your bat ; hetber round or lofty, square and flat. You ran never do better than trust to me ; You may rhnt your eyes ss long a I see. While you live 1 will lead you, and then I'm the owl. I'll bury you nicely with my spade and ahowL George MrDrmald. A Detective's Story. One cold January night I was seated cosily by my fireside enjoying a cup of tea, which my wife, knows so well how to make, when a violent ring at the front door hell disturbed the reverie in which I was iudulging. My visitor was a handsome young girl of about eighteen years of age. She was dressed with great taste, and evi dently belonged to the upper ranks of life. She appeared somewhat embar rassed, as it fclie were at a loss how to begin the conversation. "Have 1 the pleasure of speaking to Mr. James Eramptou ? " she said at last. "That is my name," I replied. "My name, sir," continued the young girl, gaining courage, "is Eliza Mil- ford." "M ilford, "said I "what, the daugh ter of the gentleman who has lately so mysteriously disappeared, with the ac count of which the papers have been so full for the past few days?" "The same, and it is on that very business I have come to consult you. You are perhaps aware that a young man has been arrested on a charge of having taken his life." 'Yes; a Mr. Henry Waring, I be lieve." "Ye, that is his name that young man i- innocent." "Indeed;" "I will make a plain statement of the facts of the case, and then I am sure you will agree with me. My father's name, as you are aware, is Mr. Herbert Mill'ord. We live on the banks of the North Kiver, about twelve miles from Xew York. My father was devotedly attached to me, and we lived as happily as possible together. About a year ago 1 was introduced to the son of a gentle man living in the neighborhood, and mutual love sprang up between us. Henry Waring visited my father's house every night. But suddenly our dream of happiness was dissipated, and that, too, by an extraordinary ciicum stanee. Henry was early one morning found in the garden attached to our house, in a half-senseless condition; his clothes and hand were covered with blood, and my father had mysteriously disappeared. Every search was made for him, but without any avail, and Henry was arrested on the charge of having murdered him and concealed the body somewhere." "That was a strange conclusion to come to," said I, interrupting her. "Yes, but you have not heard all," she replied. "My father's watch and purse were found ia Heery's pocket at the time he was arrested." "How does Mr. Waring account for that?" I asked. "I don't know," replied Miss Milford, "for I have not been permitted to see him. He has been removed to the county jail, and his case has not yet been investigated, owing to the fact of my father's body not having been dis covered. But to suppose that Henry could be guilty of murder and robbery is too prejiosterous to be believed for a moment." "Such would certainly appear to be the case," I returned ; "but did not the place where Mr. Waring was arrested reveal anything?" "O yes ; a terrible struggle had evi dently taken place there. The flowers and roots were torn up; the shrubbery broken, the ground in various places was covered with blood and a knife was found which was proved to have belonged to Henry, also stained with the vital fluid." "Do I understand that your father imposed no obstacle to your marriage with him?' "Xone at all, sir; in fact, my father loved hini." "How long ago is it since your father was missing?" "This is my fourth day. My motiv, Mr. Brampton, in applying to you, is to free Mr. Henry Waring from the im putation of a crime of which I am sure he is as innocent as I am." "It does indeed seem improbable that he committed the deed. The first thing I must do is to see Mr. Henry Waring, and hear what explanation he has to give." "Thuk you, sir," said Miss Milford "When shall I come and see you again?" "Are you staying in Xew York?" "Yes sir; I am staying with an aunt." "Very well, when I have anything to communicate to you I will call." The next morning I started for the town of L., situated on the Hudson River Railroad, in the prison of which Mr. Waring was confined. I had some little difficulty in obtaining admission t the prisoner, but when I stated that I was a detective officer an order was reluctantly given to me. The moment 1 entered his cell Mr. Waring advanced to meet me. In a few words I told him of Miss Milford's visit to me and that I was working by her instructions. "I own the circumstantial evidence appears to be very strong against me," he replied, "and I am afraid my plain, unvarnished story will not do mnch toward disproving It. But the follow ing are the simple facts of the case: On the night in question I visited at Mil ford's house as usual. I stayed there until eleven o'clock and then took my leave. I was accustomed to return home by the garden at the back of the house, as I saved something in distance by so doing. On the night I refer to I was about a dozen yards from the back gate when two men started up from behind some bushes and seized hold of me. Be fore I had time to defend myself one of them struck me a violent blow on the head, which knocked me down sense less. When I recovered it was day light and I must have been there all night. I found my hands and clothes covered with blood, and my knife, which I carried for self-defense, ab stracted from my pocket. I had scarcely risen to my feet when I was seized and accused of having murdered Mr. Mil ford." "But how about the watch and purse?" "I assure you no one was more sur prised than myself when they were ta ken from my pocket." "How long a time had you parted with Mr. Milford when you were as sailed in the garden ?" "Mr. Milford usually retired at ten o'clock, leaving Miss Milford and my self up together." Alter a little more conversation with the prisoner 1 withdrew, not very well satisfied with the result of my visit. It is true it served to confirm me in th opinion I had formed of Waring's in nocence, but I was no nearer discover ing the truth than before. My next proceeding was to make a strict examination of the premises lately occupied by Mr. Milford, and especially the spot where he had been assailed. The hou-e afforded no clew, but the garden convinced me that the disorder there had been made after the young man had been struck, and that it was not occasioned by any real struggle that had taken place, but to induce the belief that such a struggle had occurred. There was too much regularity iu the uprooting of the flowers and roots, and the shrubbery was broken too sys tematically not to set this point at rest to the eye of the detective. I discovered that the most minute search had been made for Mr. Milford's body, but without any success. After j making these investigations I returned to Xew York, and really saw but little hope of being able to unravel the mys tery. Three weeks passed away and I had not discovered one single link in the chain I was seeking to find. One day Miss Milford called on me again. In a few words I told her that up to the present time my researches had all been fruitless. She looked disappointed. "Have you heard," she said, "that my uncle, Oliver Milford, is occupying Linden Manor house?" 'Your uncle occupying Linden Ma nor house !" I exclaimed in a tone of great surprise. "Yes, he apjteared there two weeks ago and claimed all my falhej's pro perty by virtue of a will which he ex hibited, and by which he was made sole heir to all my father's estate." "Are you sure that the will is a genu ine one?" I asked, a raj of hope enter ing my mind. "There can be no doubt that it was signed by my fatht r," she replied. "But who is this uncle of yours? I never heard you mention him before." "I had almost forgotten his exist ence, for the fact is, m y father and he were not on good to-ma together, and his name was scarcely ever mentioned." "Are you left nothing in this will?" "No hing." "Is it not very strange, Miss Milford, that your father should have left your uncle all this property?" "It is, indeed, very strange." replied the young lady. "They have -.ever spoken to each other for years. Father could never bear to hear the name of his brother Oliver mentioned, and whenever he did speak of him, which I have before said was seldom, be always spoke of him as a bad-hearted man." 'And yet you say the signature to the will was iu your father's handwrit ing?" "Yes, sir, I am perfectly satisfied of it; so much so that when some of my friends advised me to contest the vali dity of the will, being firmly convinced that my father really did sign it, I re fused most positively. I care nothing about my father's wealth, and it is not to regain this that I ask your assist ance, sir; my simple wish is to obtain' Henry Waring release." "Has the will been proved?" I asked. "O yes," she replied ; "my uncle has taken full possession." "And what have you been doing since?" I asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. "I have obtained some music pupils, and I am doing very well, as I before said. I have no concern about myself." "Have you any letter or document with your father's signature attached to it?" 'I have a number at home." she re plied. "By the by, I think I have a letter of his with ine now, written to me some six years ago, when he was in Albany." So saying she took from her reticule the letter in question and handed it to me. "Will you allow me to retain posses sion of this?" I asked. "Certainly." she replied, "but I can assure you that if you suppose the will to be a forgery you are mistaken. The will is undoubtedly genuine." "Well." my dear young lady," Ire- turned, "I do no? doubt your word, but you may be mistaken. At all events, I should like to judge for myself." I thee bade her good morning, and expressed a wish to see her again that day week. When she had gone i imme diately put on my hat and coat and di rected my steps to the Recorder's office for the purpose of examining the will. Aided by the Index I found it readily, and commenced to read every word of it Atlast I came to the signature. I took from my pocket the letter Miss Milford had given me, for the purpose of comparing the signatures. There could be co doubt whatever but the sig nature was genuine; the letters were found to be the same, and were evi dently written by the same hand. Still there was a marked difference between the two. That attached to the letter was bold and firm, while that attached to the will was weak and tremulous. The will was witnessed by John Dor sey. The fact of the difference in the sig natures aroused my suspicious. A per son's signature rarely differs except when the mind is influenced. Sutthen again I reflected that time might impair a person's writing, and I compared the date of the will with that of the letter. What was my astonishment to find that they were both dated on tbe same day, namely : Jan. 1, 1840. I next held up the document to the light, for the pur pose of seeing if there was a water mark on the paper. 1 found such was the case, and the "Connecticut Mills, 1843," could be made out most dis tinctly. Here was a will purporting to have been signed in Xew York on the first day of January, 1S40, by a man who was in Albany on that day, and on pit' per that was made three years after ward. And yet there could be no dis puting the fact that the signature was a genuine one. The whole truth in a moment flashed on my mind, and I im mediately set about unraveling the web. I went to work with a good heart, for 1 had little doubt of success. My first proceeding was to make in qui ties as to the exact date of Mr. Mil- lord's disappearance. I discovered that it was on the lOih day of January, and that Oliver Milford had come to take possession of the property on the 21st. I also made inquiries as to the past life of the heir to the property, and found that in Boston, from which city he came, he bore a very disreputable cha racter, and that no one would trust him. 1 then returned to L., and putting upat a country tavern, I called the landlord to one side. Mr. Adams," said I, "do you know any oue of the name of Dorsey living in this neighborhood?" "Yes, sir; there's a Mr. John Dorsey who lives over the river." "What kind of a man is he ?" I asked. "He is a very tall, strong man," he replied. "1 mean what kind of a character does he bear?" "Well, I can't say much in his favor, so I would rather not say anything." - "I suppose he is not very much liked by his neighbors?" "You may well say that. Ever since he attacked poor Mr. Milford so sav agely nobody speaks to him." He attacked the late Mr. Milford, did he?" '.Yes, sir; a most unprovoked as sault. It seems that Mr. Milford of fended this man in some way, and one day there was a sale in town, and Mr. Milford and Dorsey both bid for the same article. It was knocked down to the former, and it was after the sale that the assault was committed." "Was Dorsey prosecuted for it?" "Yes; be was imprisoned for a year, aud had to pay a heavy fine." I learned all I wanted to know and changed the conversation. I made inquiries as to the ex let spot where the w itness to the will lived. I learned that it was over the river, on an island, the whole of which he owned. I procured a boat and rowed directly across the river was not very broad. I then skirted along the shore until I came to a landing place. After 1 had proceeded a quarter of a mile I reached a 8ot where the marks of horses' feet were plainly to be traced on the snow. It was evident that horses had been embarked at this point on a boat or raft, and had been conveyed to the other side at the jioint from which I had star ted. I made my boat fast and looked around me. I found that the Island was small, and so thickly studded with trees that 1 could see but little in advance of me. Taking, however, the horses hoofs for my guide, I came upon an old, dilapita ted stone building which had evidently been built long auterior to the Revolu tion. It seemed to be entirely unoccu pied, for the shutters were closed and thick grass and weeds grew in profu sion. I walked all around the house, but could not find a living soul visible, but I was rewarded by a sight which made my blood tingle in my veins, for it served to substantiate my theory with respect to clearing up the mystery, and this sight was nothing less than the im pression of a club foot many times re peated, near the front entrance of the house, this showing conclusively that '.r. Oliver Milford was a frequent visi tor at Mr. Dorsey's. I rang the bell, ana receiving no an swer I opened the door, which was un fastened. It was evident that Mr. Dor aey lived by himself, for there was only one room furnished, and that but m ea gerly. The first thing that I noticed was a candle and a box of lucifer mat ches on tbe table in the room. Although it was daylight I lighted the candle and began to explore the house. I first of all examined the upper portion of it, but found nothing. I then examined the ground floor, with the same success. I did not feel discouraged, for I felt almost satisfied from the fact of the candle being there that such would be the result. I next proceeded to examine the cel lar, and had not descended half a dozen steps before I heard a faint groan. 1 rushed forward and entered a spacious vault. In a corner of this damp, dark and dismal dungeon, reclining on a heap of straw, with manacles on his wrists and ankles, I saw an old man whom I was satisfied was Mr. Herbert Milford. I held the candle over his head and saw that he was sleeping. At that moment I heard the sound of footsteps behind me, and turning round saw that It was Mr. Oliver Milford advancing toward me with all the ferocity of a tiger. A terrible struggle ensued, but I wac the younger mau of the two, and finally su"ceeded in overpowering bim, and in fixing the manacles with which he had loaded his poor brother on his wrists and feet. The poor old gentleman was conveyed back to his residence, and was soon gratified with his daughter's presence. Young Waring was immediately re leased from confinement. I may add that in a month or two Eliza Milford and Henry Waring were married. Oliver Milford died after four years' confinement in State's prl son, where he had been condemned for life. Dorsey escaped. By some means he learned that his victim had been dis covered, and at once started for Xew York. I need scarcely add that it was Dorsey and Oliver Milford who had made the attack on Waring, and placed the watch and purse of their prisoner in his pocket, for the purpose of caus ing him to be suspected of having mur dered the old gentleman. The Uerawaa uealas. A German's capacity of boring and of being boicd is inexhaustible. In the higher grade of tbe imagination they are encumbered with farts and observa tions and commonplaces. Their works are tedious beyond measure. In their poetry there is, for the most part, no irradiation no fire to fuse and trans mute it from substance to spirit. "The German genius," says Mathew Arnold, in his admirable paper ou the study of Celtic literature, "has steadiness with honesty," while the English "has ener gy with honesty." But steadiness and honesty are qualities which, admirable as they are in life and in certain forms of literature, have littte relation to the imagination save in a very exalted sense. The poetic imagination takes slight heed of honesty. It is a higher office. It fuses while it uses, aud in its glow all things Suffer a ses change Into something rich snd strauge." It is often absolutely dishonest to real fact, and only true to ideal feeling. Fuel becomes flame in its enthusiastic embrace. What steadiness or honesty in their common sense is there in such lines as these? "Take, oh! tike those lips sway That so sweetly were forsworn : And those eyes, tbe break of day. Lights that do nu-lead the mora." Literally this is absurd ; idealiy it is ex quisite. There is no bane to poetry like commonplace, however true, how ever honest. But such graces as these were never snatched by the German muse, and she wearies us with plati tudes and propositions. Even Ga-the is so determined to be accurate to the fact that iu writing his Alexis and Dora, he stopped to consider whether Alexis, when he takes leave of Dora, aught to put down or take up his bun dle; so at least Eckermann reports from Goethe's own lips. This is purely Ger man in its literalness. Oddities af Orators. Canning was sure of speaking his best if he rose in an awful funk. To feel his heart beating rapidly, to be frightened at the sound of his own voice, to wish the floor would open and swallow htm up, were signs to Lord Lytton of an oiatorical triumph. Men of ordinary calibre, however, find flight a forerunner of failure. When it fell to Canning's lot to res-ond to the toast of His Majesty's ministers at Fishmong er's Hall, the company looked for a great speech and an eloquent exposition ol ministerial policy. They were doubly disappointed. Canning had no intent ion of exposing his hand, and was not in the vein of talking much and telling nothing, as ministers have a trick of doing. ''Gentlemen," said he, "we arc invited here to meet the fishmongers. Xow, the fishmongers have dealings with a very large community, troiu whose habits I think they might be learning something. 1 mean the com munity of fishes. The fish is one of the most uncommunicative animals in creation, it says nothing, and it drinks a good deal. Let us, then, upon the present occasion, as we are to some ex tent brought In their company, imitate their habits. Let us not wa-teour time in talking, but drink a good deal." Quite as economical of speech was the candidate who delighted a Xottingham mob by addressing them In this comic fashiou: "Ye poets, ye butchers, ye mute inglorious Miltous, ye Cromwell guiltless of your country's blood, give me a welcome to Xottingham ! This," here he held up a sovereign "this is the god you adore your faithful un changeable friend!" Thereupon one enthusiastic listener shouted, "that's Xottingham to life!" But when it came to polling, only three votes were recor ded to the unflattering orato-. In speak ing, as in reciting, a good start is desira ble. A capital one was once effected by a newly-elected French deputy. Stepping into the tribunal with tbe air of a man charged with a momentous mission, he commenced: "It is neces sary that I should speak to my coun try." Startled into silence by such a solemn exordium, the assembly waited anxiously while the orator paused for a moment ere he proceeded : "It is neces sary that I should speak to my country of cheese !" Of course, he got no far ther, and what be wanted to say about cheese remains a mystery. Almost as much merriment was created in the House of CommoDS by an Irish member observing : "If the honorable gentle man chooses to challenge me, we can re ire ." But as soon as the hubbub created had subsided, he put himself right by saying: "1 mean If the honora ble gentleman wishes to challenge my accuracy, we can mire to the library and I will show him that be is wrong." All The Year .Round. Pablle Vehicle. A n artlel In the Frnrumiintr Fruncii on the public vehicles used in Paris gives some curious statistics: He says that both the nacre anu me ominous are of comparatively receiit date. In 1617 the owners of sedan chairs did a pretiv good trade; bu: it was not until 1C4I that an Amiens postmaster coneeivea tbe idea of placing carriages for hire in different parts of the capital. In 1CU3 an ordinance was issued fixing the tar iff of these carriages at twenty-six sous for the first hour, and twenty for every hour afterward. From a comparison of ih. nrliwi with those chanted in the present. It i evident that locomotion in and about t aris was as cwiiy a uuiiureu years ago as it Is now. Dlda't Kim Except by Hearsay. Tabitha Sargent "Aunt Tabitha" we all called her was a spinster of an uncertain age, residing in tbe upper part of Oxford, Maine. She might have been fifty, she might have been more, she might have been less,; no one save herself could tell, and she wouldn't. She had been repeatedly asked bow old she was, and as often informed the in quirer that it was nobody's business but her own. Once upon a time A unt Tabitha was summoned as a witness in a case on trial at the fall term of the Supreme Court held at Paris and an important witness she was. She was to testify for the plaintiff. Charles B. Cumraings was counsel for the defence (I think it was Charles) ; and said Charles : "Xow I'll make Aunt Tabitha tell us her age. Wait and see." We waited. Tabitha had given her testimony, di rect, terse and strong, and was turned over for cross-examination. "What is your name?" asked dim ming, with severe dignity. "1 told it to Mr. Hastings," answered the witness, with a snap. "To be sure; but I wish to know that I have It right." "My name is Tabitha Sargent!" "Miss Sargent, you will not forget that you are under oath. Where do you reside ?:' 'In Andover." "How old are vou?" "Eh! What, sir?" "What is your age?" "I don't know sir!" "Don't know your own age?" "Xo, sir," Tabitha replied firmly, but with a sharp twinkle in her keen gray eyes. "I have not the least recollection of the circumstance of my birth, and coiiseqciitly couldn't swear to its date. I may have heard other people speak of it, but I don't s'pose I'm here to tell what other folks say about things that haven't got whatsomever to do with this case. So, Mr. Charles Cummings, if it would be any satisfaction to you, I tell you, once more I don't know !" While Judge Kent ducked his head for a few moments, Tabitha gathered herself up for the next onslaught. But there was no need. She had vanquished Charles B., as he had never been van quished before. I' rear a Lave of Flower. An American in Paris writes as fol lows: "The French woman must have her daily supply of flowers, even if she is compelled to stint her table to obtain them. When she purchases the sub stantial for her breakfast she is sure to take home with her a bouquet of flowers. You will scarcely pass a window at an inhabitable house, where from the base ment to the pens erected upon the roofs, six or seven stories from the ground, there is not a display of flower pots. Having secured quarters high up in the louvre we can look down upon the up per stories of the neighboring houses, in each room of which there apears to be a separate family. They seem to be tailors, and at daybreak in the morning the men are plying their needles and the women preparing for the breakfast table. The cultivation of flowers in all the palace gardens and squares, aud even by the street sides, in the Champs Elysees is carried to perfection. The Luxembourg garden is the finest dis play of flowers cultivated in the open air I have ever witnessed, and it is thronged every eveniug by admiring visitors. So also at the Jardin des I'lan tes, which we visited this afternoon. It was crowded with visitors, and the flowers attracted more attention than the great exhibition of the cattle of the field, the bird of the air, the lieastof the jungle and the fish of the sea which are here collected and ojien to the in.c tion of the public." Be mot Klotbfal la Baslaeea. Those violate this precept who have a lawful calling, a proper business, but are slothful in it. When people are in business for themselves, they are in less risk of transgressing this injunc tion, though even then it sometimes happens that the hand is not diligent enough to make its owner rich. But it is when engaged in business not for ourselves, but for others, or for God, that we are in greatest danger of neg lecting this rule. The servant who has no pleasure in his work, who does no more than wages can buy or a legal agreement enforce; the shopman who does not enter con amore Into his em ployer's interest, and bestir himself to extend his trade as he would strive were the concern his own; the scholar who trifles when his teacher's eye is elsewhere and who is content if lie can only learn enough to escape uisgrace; the teacher w ho is satisfied if he can only impart a decent quantum of in struction, and who does not labor for the mental expansion and spiritual well-being of his pupils as he would for those of his own children ; the magistrate or civic functionary who is only careful to escape public censure, and who does not labor to make the community richer, or happier, or better for his adminis tration ; every one, in short, who per forms the wo'k which God or his breth ren have given him to do in a hireling or perfunctoi nanner, is a violator of the divine itij'' .'tion, "Be not slothful in business." There are sc Jiany persons of a dull and languid tui a. They trail sluggishly through life, as if some painful viscus, some adhesive slime, were clogging every movement, and making their snail path a waste of their very sub stance. They do nothing with that healthy alacrity, that gleesome energy which bespeaks a sound mind even more than a vigorous body; but they drag themselves to tne inevitable task with remonstrating reluctance, as if every joint were set in a socket of torture, or as if they expected tbe quick flesh to cleave to the next implement of industry they handled. Having no wholesome love for work, no joyous delight in duty, they do everything grudgingly, in the most superficial manner, and at the last moment. Others there are who, if you find them at their post, yon will find them dozing at it. They are a sort of perpetual somnambulists, walking through their sleep; moving in a con stant mystery; looking for their tools, and forgetting what they are looking for; not able to find their work, and when they have found their work not able to find their hands; doing every' thing dreamily, and therefore every thing confusedly and imcompletely ; their work a dream, their sleep a dream, not repose, not refreshment, but a slumbrous vision of rest, a dreamy query concerning sleep; too late for every thing; taking their passage when the ship has sailed, insuring their property when the house is burned, locking the door when the goods are stolen. Such slothful dreamers are each and all of them unfaithful to their trust "slothful in business." They betray the interests of all who have any con nection with them, sacrifice the pros pects of those who should be most dear to them, and frequently involve them selves in disgrace and ruin. Oae Hssdred Italian lar a His. The following amusing story concern ing the tragedian Edwin Booth is pub lished in ao exchange: Edwin Booth is proverbially opposed to having his private trumpet blown, but a little incident of his overland trip is too good to be lost. It seems that in the same car with the tragedian and his family was a lady more remarkable for the loudness of her style and tbe oppressive gorgeousuess of her jewelry than for her refinement This water fly" not only conceived the most in tense passion for the pet of the stage, but took especial pains to make it mani fest an interest that seemed to be only the more inflamed by the apparent pro found indifference of Mr. Booth to her presence.. She recatedly stated, among other things, that she "would give $100 to kiss that divine Booth just once." At Omaha a poor emigrant attracted the attention of the travelers as they returned to the car after dinner. He had started for California, but hod been robbed while asleep, and was without funds to go ou or even procure food. Our American Hamlet's generosity in days of his golden fortune is proverbial. Mr. Booth put his hand In his pocket, through sheer force of habit, and with out a word handed the poor devil a f 100 note. As he did this his eye fell upon his gorgeous admirer, who was stand ing near by. With the sweeping stride of the melancholy Dane he went up ab ruptly to her and asked, "Did you say you would give $100 to kiss me?" The lady was staggered for a moment, but with true Western determination not to be til u (led replied, "I did," and opened a plethoric purse defiantly. The star deliberately place.! his arm around her neck and giving her a sounding smack held out his hand for the fee. This was given him. Booth wheeled around, and forced it into the emigrant's hand, saving simply, "There's another," aud, without changing his countenance or taking any further notice of the lady, passed in the car. Even Mrs. B. fore bore to "wool him" under the cirruru stances. Ward Oris las. Few words have so remarkable a history as the word bankrupt. The money. changers of Italy had, it is said, benches or stal's in the bourse or ex change of former times, and in these they conducted their ordinary business. When any of them fell back in the world and bet-am j insolvent his bench was broken, and the nme of broken bench, or bunco rottn, was given to him. When the word was first adopted into the English, it was nearer the Italian than it now is, "bankerout," instead of bankrupt. Two words, txichelor and girl, the first of which, being formerly held as synony mous with "young man," or "sweet heart," may be regarded as the parallel and forresHuduig term to the other. We hope that the classes which bear these names will pardon us for saying that etymology gives a not very flatter ing account of the origin of either. As for girl, we are left, as far as its deriva tions, to choose between the Saxon carl or churl and the Latin word oamln, a garrulous feirale. If the latter of these derivations be the right one, shall we say in this case, as iu some of the pre ceding, that the term girl his departed much from its original signification? At all events, we are certain that the parties denoted by the teruiwill prefer the application of (tweet) prattlers to that of carls or churls, burly and surly. As for bachelors, etymology is still less kind and still less decisive with respect to the meaning of their distinctive de signation. One philologist refers the term to a Greek word, plainly and plumply signifying foolish, while an other derives it from bat chtvalier (French), a Knight of the very meanest grade. By some, the word is traced to the Latin hacvlu (a staff), because bachelors, in their old days, have nothing but a stick or cane to lean upon ; and, last and least, the worthy com mentator and improver upon Johnson, Mr. H. P. Todd, believes ''the most probable derivation to tie from fxtcca taunt, the berry of a laurel or bay; bachelors being young and of good hoes,' like laurels in the berry. Truly this latter is even too hard a nut to crack, and we had rather the tree in question had been the chestnut or hazel. To speak the truth, in plain earnest, the French derivation of (xu chevalier seems to be tbe true original of bachelor; and all, therefore, who expose them selves to the designation by remaining obstinately in a single state, must be content to rank themselves under the primitive appellation of "knights of the lowest order." The parties implicated, it is to be presumed, will shelter them selves under the plea that a great change has taken place in the meaning of words; and as this is the argument we ourselves set out with, we cannot very well gain-say the defense. Can ber't EdMiuryh Jrmrnnl. Hbbsbm Uksr. Human labor in a thousand little rills replenishes tbe fountain of man's earth ly existence. It rends the rocks asun der to build the marts of commerce, it sends its tiny but powerful roots in to the soil, that the cups may, in due season, fructify and replenish and glad den the earth ; it dives into the dark ened mine, where cheering sunlight never penetrates, to bring forth some of the most important necessities of modern civilization; for where would that civlllz ition be but for the products of labor? As we value the products of labor, how much more should we esteem the intelligent agencies by which they are produced. In whatever sphere of of action it may be, labor is honorable, and there is at times a moral heroism exhibited which renders it sublime. Taa Iafiaeaes af eress. There is, no doubt, a reflex influence in dress. One of the best wars of in spiring tbe degraded with self-respect is to supply them with decent and suit able clothing. We are wholly unable at any stage of cultivation, to with stand this influence. Xo lady is the same in a careless and nntasteful morn' ing wrapper, and an elegant evening costume. Every one must have noticed the ef fect of dress upon the character and condition of servants. Those who have grown up in houses where slatternly personal habit are allowed, never be come really respectable, even although they may have many good qualities. They do not respect themselves, and their sympathy with their employers is blunted by the great difference in outward appearance. It is true that domestics sometimes act so earnestly upon this principle, that they end in erring on the side of too much attention to costume. We remember once and once only, finding at a foreign hotel a chambermaid dressed in silk, with ar tificial roses in her hair; the feeling that she would not be of much use to us flashing across the mind at once. English servants hit the happy medium oftener than any other; their tidiness suggests alacrity, and we have a com fortable assurance of being well served as soon as we look upon them. It is odd what a difference one feels in offer ing a gratuity to a well or ill-dressed servant in travelling. Shahbiness favors our penuriousness most remarkably. The eye scans the expectant instinc tively; and instead of the generous im pulse to give most liberally to those who need, we graduate our donation by tbe probable expectation of one who has evidently not found the world very generous. If the servant be well enough dressed to bespeak indepen dence, and especially if she be gifted with the modest assurance which is often both cause and consequence of good fortune, pride whispers us at once not to disgust so genteel a person by a shabby gilt, and we bestow on success what we should grudge to necessity. Much depends, therefore on the study of character by dress. asaad siasi Lives. Light, says Scribuer's, is one of the active agencies in enlivening and beau tifying a home. We all know the value of sunlight as a health-giving agent to the physical constitution, and it is not less so to our moral and spiritual na tures. We are more active under its influence, can think better and act more vigorously. Let us take the airiest, choicest and sunniest room in the house lor our liv ing room, the workshop where brain and body are built up and renewed. And let us there have a bay window no mat ter how plain in structure, through which the good twin angels of nature sunlight and pure air ran freely en tcr. Dark rooms bring depression of spir its, imparting a sei.se of confinement, of isolation, of powerlessness, which is chilling to energy and vigor, bnt in light rooms is good cheer. Even in a gloomy house, where walls aud furniture are dingy and brown, you have but to take down the heavy cur tains, open wide the window, stand brackets on either side, set flower pots on the brackets and let the warm sun stream freely in, to bring health to our bodies and joy to our souls. Defects af the II ma a Eye. In a recent discussion before the Phy sical Society, London, one of the speak ers remarked that, though the eye has been considered to be achromat ic because it practically is so. it is easy to cite evi dence of the defects of the organ in this respect. For instance, to short sighted persons the moon apiears to have a blue fringe; and, in using the sectroseope, the red and blue ends ot the spectrum cannot be seen with equal distinctness without adjusting the focus ing glass. Again, a black patch of pa per, on a blue ground, appears to have a fringed edge if viewed from even a short distance, while a black patch on a red ground, when observed under simi lar conditions, has a perfectly distinct margin. In the opinion of tbe speaker referred to, it is the overlapping of im ages in the eye which produces the men tal impression that there is no want of achromatism. A Saeclaaea Eaallaa Faraaer. The London Telegraph says: "In the neighborhood of Newburj, not a hun dred miles from the very place where John Hampton was born and bred, a sturdy yeoman has given us a specimen of what can be done even late in the autumn of life by thase who 'scorn de lights and live laborious days.' Mr. Charlwood, a farmer and miller near Xewbury, and some years past the prime of his strength, made a small bet that be would, singly and unassisted, cart twenty acres of wheat between the earliest moment at which he could see in the morning and the last moment at which he could see at night. He began his work on Friday morning last at 3 45 on the farm of Mr. X. G. Hutchin son, at Crookbam, near Xewbury, and by 9.20 at night he had carted the whole contents of the twenty acres. The ricks built from his carting were five in number, three of which were ten yards by five, one ten yards by six, and one more which was as the clown says in the pantomime 'a little one in. It is calculated that while Mr. Charlwood was at work be lifted from two hundred to two hundred and fifty sacks of wheat and fifty or sixty tons of straw; and it is said that it would take three ordinary agricultural laborers an entire day to get through such a job. The physicial power of the British farmer has always been exceptionally above tbe average. But at the suae time it is seldom that we come across a man who Is able in the course of one day's daylight to pitchfork Into the wagon twenty acres ol wheat. It is too much the fashiou at present to otter mournful prophesies of national decadence, and to declare sadly and solmiily that the nrtion is going to the dogs. As far, however, as can be made out, the ordinary physique of Englishman was never higher than it is now, an-1 when one man swims the channel, and another single handed carta twenty acres of wheat In seventeen hours and three-quarters continuous work, there Is not much reason to com plain of national degeneracy." NIW3 CI BRIE. Michigan proposes to squander 4fi0,0U0 on a poorhou.se. Eleven Xew York savings banks have c'osed within five years. Squirrels which are numerous at Escanaba, Mich., are protee'ed by or dinance. Grapes for the wine pres are twelve to twenty dollars a ton In So noma, Cal. Mississippi has saved $576,435 in state expenditures by one democratic legislature. Judge Belden of California has de cided that the whipping-post law ol that State is unconstitutional. Charles Tracy of Xew York, has purchased the CVzzen's Hotel property at West Point for $70,000 cash. Do people remember that it was a woman Priscilla Wakefield who founded the first savings bank? The latest thing in German epi phany is a St. Louis Sausage Festival, the chief attraction beingall the known varieties of sausages, from Adam down. An attemi by Chinese merchants to establish a line of steamers between Shanghai and Japanese ports has failed and the enterprise has been abandoned. Mr. M. S. W. Burnham, one of our few astronomers who have a European reputation, has been appointed director of the Dearborn University ac Chicago. The Young Men's Christian asso ciation, of Meriden, Conn., has the foundation laid for a new $311,000 build ing, $!:,(JJ0 of which is already sub scribed. An Englishman in Paris recently wagered that he would drink fifty glasses of water iu an hour. He drank twenty-six, then gave up, and died in less than au hour. The largest shoe manufactory on the Pacific' coast has lately discharged all its Chinese help and employed 3u white men, women and boys, nndinz them more profitable. The sheriff's sale of Dsn. R'uv'i show can set 1 a great decline in hippo potamuses. In the absence of any rise in these animals the country is in a lair way to go to ruin. The members of the B.iyreuth or chestra have presented Richard Wagner with a grand piano of American manu facture. Thin is certainly a compli ment to American Industry. Rhode Island, which has been greatly twitted as the ' runt" of the State Sisterhood, contains S35 8-10 square miles, which is equal in extent to some of the cattle randies out West. The committee of the Will county (III.) babv-show limited the entries to thirty babies, the chairman declaring that he could not stand the abuse of more than twenty-nine women. The Duke of Westminister, a wealthy English nobleman, gives work ingmen on Mindays the privilege of vis iting tne picture galleries ami museum of his magnificent private residence. A blue limestone paving block had lain in the streets of Memphis, Tenn.. 15 years. It was recently broken Hp in order to lie fitted into a new place, and lo, a little live frog hopped out and was 'risky. The "eight leading colleges" of Il linois have been having an Intercolle giate match. A young woman who contested was ru'ed out from prizes as verbose on the ground that she sjioke a half minute too long. One of the events of the season at Xewrr, not yet chronicl-d. was a christen i.ig party at which the baby wore a while hue robe vilued at $3,000. It also wore $5,INN) worth of diamonds belonging to its mamma. The Jews' free schools of London give religious anl secular education to 3,i00 children at an average of $37, U0O a year. The Government lnSNc tor praises the hiirh emVieney ot the schools, and awards it $s.(hjo. The Ridgewav library building in Philadelphia, built from a fund leu for that urMse by tiie eccentric Air. Ku-h, will be! one of the costliest structures for the protection of book in the world, it will cost isiMOOII. The "Klite Directory" is a new is sue iu New York which gives the names ol residents o! the I ishioiiable irt of the city by the treet and iiiiuiImt, so that the o,e may know their own neighbor, hv name ar least. The new librarian of the John Hop kins University in ISdtimore is Arthur W.Tyler. He graduated at Amherst Col lege in the class of Isi7, ard has been for several vears assistant librarian in the Astor library in Xew York city. The Irf-u Jyt, in a table which it publishes, gives the per cent, of blast furnaces, iu and out of blast, in l$li, as follows: In Mast chart-oil, 32; An thracite, 31; bituminous, :;. Out of blast chin-oal, :; mthracite, fitf; bi tuminous. tl. Mrs. Ihe!ie A. II innaforl, Uni versalist minister iu Jersey City, re cently erftrmed the marriage cere mony at her daughter's wedding. This is erhaps the first in-tance in the world in w hich a lady has been mar ried by her own mother. An unique feature of the Atlantic M ' mthlg tor 177 will he contributions to each iiuiiiIht of oriin'M music by such coniosers as J. K. Paine. George L. Osgood Dudley Buck and Francis Boott, with words by some of the most distinguished Atlantic H-ts. The steams cars of Paris are three deck vehicles, carry 2H0 eople, and are luxurious to ride in. The decks are reached by an elegant stairway, with decorated silver railings, and the steam engine is attached in such a manner as to afford no Inconvenience to the pas sengers. Mr. Scott, an iron merchant of Ed inburgh, having received an order for 4i0 tons of iron girders tor the new station, being erected in Glasgow, is having the girders manufactured in Belgium, and delivered in Glasgow at considerably less cost than he can have them made in England. The English have just completed the longest bridge in the world, in their East India possessions. It consists of sixtv-four spans of 142 feet each, thusU 9.3U0 feet, or more than a mileand 'hree quarters long. It is all built of brick and Iron, tbe masonry amounts to 5,000,000 cubic feet, while the irou girders weigh 6,000 tons. On searching an old house recently sold at Gloucester, Mass., upward of 2,000 empty vials, which once contained paregoric, were found scattered about the premises, ic the closets, cellar, at tic, and woodshed. It is supposed tbe contents of these bottles were consumed by some poor victim of this gentle nar cotic who formerly lived there. The Randolph (X. Y.) Register says: "The oldest conductor in the United States passes Randolph every day. His name is Isaac Woods, and his home is at Salamanca. He is 62 years of age, and has been on different railroads lor over forty years. In ail this time he has never w recited a train or met with any accident of any kind." J; II
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers