2)lj fiiiiiicii
""" '.- -"- JX 7"rr- -
B. F. SCHWEIER,
THI OO5STITUTI0N TH1 UNION AND THI ZCTOfiCEMEKT 07 THX LAWS.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXXI.
MIFFLINJOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA WEDNESDAY, MAY 16. 1877.
NO. 20.
K!ITTEG.
With a blooming maiden titling.
While she nimbly plies her knitting.
Pleased I Km zed upon her beanty.
While I nil my happy duty,
"Paying cat" the zephyr doable.
Richly paid (or pleasant titrable
Just to watch her nimble fingers.
And her ruby lips where lingers
Many a beauty in her smiling.
All my loving soul beguiling.
J oat to feel the wond'rona thrilling.
Of my heart with rapture filling.
While beside the maiden sitting.
"Paying out" while she is knitting,
I rm thinking how our knitting
Is an illustration fitting
Of the real life we're living ;
Of the mercies God is giving
In the active world around him.
When to woman man has bound him.
Then are love and labor making
All the joys our souls are taking.
Bis to labor are supplying.
"Paying out" life's thread, and trying
Ever to undo ite tangling ;
His to give life's thread and hold it ;
Hera in lore to gently mould it
luto forms of use and beauty.
Thus they link their love and duty."
The Blind Man's Ward.
Gleasonwood was the name of a mag
nificent castle, half ruinous, yet pictur
esque and very beautiful, ' with ite
turrets and towers, jutting abutments,
long corridors, leading one scarce knew
whither. It was surrounded by grounds
once in the highest state of cultivation,
but now sadly neglected.
In the drawing-room, furnished with
almost Eastern splendor, sat Mr. Glea
son, the master of all this wealth ; the
crimson cushions of the couch he occu
pied brought into bold relief the band
some profile. A grand face it was, with
the midnight eyes and raven hair, the
broad white brow and mouth tender as
a woman's. But the face had lines of
care, as of one who had learned to suffer
and be strong ; the light of the beautiful
eyes had gone out years ago, and all had
been darkues thenceforth. Lie was be
trothed to a lovely woman, and their
marriage was soon to take place when
the darkness fell, shutting out the
beautiful world ; and tiie haughty belie'
refusing to walk in the shadow which
hail fallen upon his life, left him in Lis
desolation.
With a heart embittered, and faith
outraged, be had retired to his country
seat, resolved to mingle no mote with
the world. Here lie had dwelt for three
years with only his servants- hi3 faith
ful valet, Lewis, being his only com
panion, except when a few fi lends
sought him out, which was seldom, for
the dark, silent rooms, and the cold
reserved master chilled them. In part
he had learned forgetfulness, and the
old pain had died out of his heart, while
the picture so long enshrined there had
become indistinct, and had not the
ower to move it as of old.
He was thinkirg of all this as he sat
waiting the arrival of his ward, Grace
Moore, whose father, dying, had ap-
jiointed him her guardian, and he could
not refuse, though be shrank from the
change which her coming must make in
the quiet of Gleasonwood.
"Miss Moore has come. Shall I show
her up?" announced Lewis, breaking in
upon bis train of thought.
"Certainly, show her up inimedl
atelv.
And he waited with a little flutter of
the heart until a soft footstep sounded
oc the carpet and a little hand was laid
In his, and a voice of sweetest music
said, "Mr. Gleason, my guardian, I be
lieve ?'
"The same. And this is my ward,
Grace Moore?" he said, clasping her
hand warmly.
"Bather a troublesome one. I fear
you will find me. I can't be dignified,
so you must not expect It. I am so glad
that you are not old and ugly, as I Im
agined all guardians were. I know I
shall like vou. and you must love me a
little. Won't you?"
"I think that will be an easy matter,
Miss Moore."
"Oh! please call me Grace. Papa
always did."
"Well, Grace it shall be. But pray
be seated, now do you like Gleason
wood ? Is Is not a rather pretty prison ?"
" 'lis beautiful ! more so than any
thing my imagination ever pictured. I
should be contented to stay here al
ways." "I used to think it very beautiful ;
but now "
He sighed and left the sentence un
finished. "I am so sorry for you !" said Grace,
with a quiver of tears in his voice, while
a tear fell on the hand of the blind man.
He started quickly, while his face
flushed and paled alternately ; and when
he spoke his voice was strangely husky.
"No tears for me, Grace ; I do not
need them. It was hard at first, but I
do not mind it so much now. I have
rare pictures stored away In my memory
of the blue sky and sunshine, the green
fields and Gleasonwood as it was then.
I miss my books more than I can tell."
"It will be a pleasure to read to -you,
If you will pe-mit me."
"I shall be happy to have you. But
'tis near our dinner hour, though' 'tis
scarcely worth while to dress for dinner
when you will only meet a blind man."
"Oh, but is it though ? I will dress,
and Lewis will tell you how I look. So
au reroir!" ;
And the little witch tripped op stairs
to her room, humming a gay air. '
"How handsome he is ! I do wish he
could see," site said with a little sigh as
she surveyed herself in the mirror.
A pretty reflection It was of a slight
form, a fair, sweet face framed In curls
of golden brown, clear truthful eyes of
the same hue, the sweet mouth with Its
twin rosebuds revealing the pearly
teeth, and over all the picture of a kind
radiance, an emanation of the purity
within. Changing her heavy traveling
dress, for a fairy I ike texture of blue, and
twining a few roses in her curls, she
descended to the drawing room aud
stood a little proudly waiting for Lewis
to give his opinion.
to
"Well, Lewis, what Is It? Surely you
have made a decision," said Mr. Glea
son, laughingly.
-a scarcely Know, sir. The young
lady is more like a picture of the Ma
donna than anything I can liken her
to."
"Thank you," said Grace; and she
took the arm of Mr. Gleason, and guided
bis steps to the dining room.
A pleasant companion she was, with
ner cneery, sunny nature and sweet
voice; she was, withal, Intelligent and
well informed, winning that grave man
irom ms gioomy sorrow ere he was
aware of it, and his happy laugh rang
out as In the olden time.
A very sunbeam she was, charming
all in the house. Her bird-like voice
rang through the long, silent rooms,
making sweet music for the blind man
to whom she was fast becoming dearer
than life. The broken tendrils of the
old love bad twined around this fair
young creature with a true, fervent
love, beside which the old seemed but
weak passion. Into every fibre of his
heart she crept with her sweet ways
and, well content, he cherished the
image as the most sacred thing in life
Very tender and kind she was, reading
and singing for him, guiding his steps
through the cool recesses of the beaut!
ful forests surround ng Gleasonwood
painting the beauties of earth and sky
until he could almost see them through
the sightless orbs.
One gloomy day, when the clouds
shut out all sunshine, and the rat
precluded the hope of an outdoor ram
ble, she asked him to go with her
the picture gallery. Jt grand, gloomy
day it was, with the portraits of his an
cestors looking dark and stern in their
armor, and paintings of rare beauty from
the hands of the old masters, that he
had collected in his rambling. He had
forgotten none of them, and gave her
the history of each.
"I his is my mother. A periect wo
man, I can hardly think her earthly
Ah ! if she had lived, my life would have
been different."
It was the picture of a fair, delicate
woman; her beautiful face was sur
rounded by rich waves of raven hair,
the blue eyes full of a tender light
such a face as one would want for
home angel.
"Who is this?" asked Grace as they
passed before a dark, brilliant woman
with a face proud as June, but a rare
beauty.
"What do you think of her?" he
asked, with a kind of tremor in his
voice.
"1 do not like her, for all her won-
drous beauty. She lacks soul, and wouli
crush in the way of ambition, even
her own heart. Who is she ?"
"Come to this wiudow seat and I will
tell you her history."
Seating her beside him, with one arm
thrown carelessly about her waist, the
little bands clasped in his, he told her
the story of his love and its betrayal
keeping back nothing except the new
love that had blossomed into life. As
he proceeded he felt the hands nestled
in his grow cold, but he could not see
the pallor of the bright face, or the
look of pain that crept into the brown
eyes, as she looked Into her heart and
found how dear this handsome guar
dian had become dearer for his blind-
ness aud dependence upon her. But
the light came back to her eves as he
told her how his love for the false syren
had died a speedy death, and peace had
come back to him once more.
It was your hand, Grace, that led
me back to the sunshine, giving me
new hope in life. I can never repay
you for your kindness, and the sweet
blossoms you have cast over my life.
What shall I do without you For, If
I remember rightly, you are to return
to school in a few weeks."
"I will not go back to school. Tou
need me, and I am happier here than
elsewhere. Please let me stay;" she
said pleadingly, with an earnestness
that was hard to resist.
"I cannot, Grace," he said, drawing
ber closer to him. "I must not be sel
fish. I will try to be content until your
school life is ended, when you must stay
with me until you are marri?d."
Swiftly sped the intervening weeks,
bringing the time of separatiou. Mr.
Gleason determined to execute a plan
long thought of, to visit Germany, and
bear from a skilful oculist there If there
was any hope of restoring his sight. If
so he would try to win this sweet flower
that had shed so much fragrance over
his life ; if not but he would not think
of that. - -
Seating himself at the piano one even
ing, be drew forth a few rich notes;
then as bis thoughts wandered back to
the past, he gave them utterance In an
improvision. As he closed the piano, he
turned to her, feeling her presence intuitively.
Grace, you here?" - -. , ;
Yes, I have been listening to your
music W bat Is it that pains you so?"
"Nothing now. I can have no pain
while you are with me, my sunbeam."
He drew her to a seat beside him,
and clasping her closely, as If to defy
the world to separate them, said:
Grace, Grace, I cannot let you go. I
love you so with love that Is more
than love. I know that you cannot re
turn it. I could not ask you to link
your sweet young life with that of a
poor blind man. Forgive me, darling,
I did not mean to tell you this, but In
the thought of separatiou I forgot all
but the" pain It would bring. Only tell
me this, Grace. If we had met earlier,
ere the darkness came, could you have
loved me?" i
Her face had grown very white, as
she listened; but the crimson tide rolled
In rosy waves over neck and brow as
she answered softly have loved yon
from the first; More precious than any
thing else in life Is the love of Henry
Gleason."
"Grace, do not deceive me. I could
not bear it. Tell me truly. Do you
can you love a blind man I", he eried,
with a face whiter than her own.
"Tou obdurate mortal I Can't you
tell that I love you, since every action
proclaims how dear you are to me?
Dearer far, on account of the darkness
shrouding your life," she said, creep
ing closely into the shelter of his arms-
With a low cry of intense joy, and
face radiant with this new found hap
piness, he gathered ber to him, press
ing kisses on the dewy lips, calling her
by every sweet, endearing name that
comes so readily at such times.
"I am going to Germany to-morrow.
I have faint hopes that my sight will be
restored. If not, and I come back blind
still, will you be mine?"
"Tours always. The greatest happi
ness of my life will be to make the sun.
shine of yours."
Six months sped quickly by on golden
wings, freighted with joy and sorrow,
sometimes sunshine predominating. At
Gleasonwood all was bustle and prepa
ration, servants tumbling over each
other in their zeal to have all prepared
for the coming of their beloved master,
who was returning home, but whether
with restored sight he did not say, and
his silence they attributed to disap
pointment.
What a state of excitement Grace was
in fluttering from oue room to another,
like a humming bird, and glancing
down the long line of road to see if he
were coming. She had donned a dress
of white with clustered forget-me-nots
embroidered over it, the delicate lace
sleeves looped up with sprays of the
same, while a cluster, nestled in green
leaves, trembled in her bosom. She
had changed little, save that her face
had grown fairer, with a loveliness
that seemed scarcely earthly, and the
white brow expanded, as the thoughts
and aspirations found fulfilment.
She had grown weary of waiting, and
nestled In Henry Gleason's chair,
drawn in the shadows of the crimson
curtains, where she could see the arri
val of the carriage, had fallen asleep,
beautiful picture she made, with the
white lids veiling the brown eyes, the
little hands, like twin snowflakes,
quietly folded. So thought Mr. Glea
son as he openen the door noiselessly.
aa he stood with brimming eyes, gazing
upon the sweet sleeper.
Fairer than ever his fancy had painted
her, was the face that had been his
guiding star, the one sweet hope in life,
tie kissed ber softly. The brown eyes
opened, and rested upon his face a mo
ment in bewilderment; then as she re
cognized him, they grew radiant with
joy, and with a glad cry she was folded
to bis heart.
iiut you do not ask me about my
eyes? Can you still be the wife of
Dim a man. i will release yon if you
wish."
I see you want to get rid of me. But
I will not accent my freedom. Tou are
dearer to me than all else in life. Will
that content you, unbelieving mortal ?'
she asked placing over his mouth one
little band that soon grew rosy with his
kisses.
"More than content, my sweet song
bird, for heaven has given me the best
treasure 'n life in your love and also re
stored my sight."
And the dark eyes gazed down into
her own with a radiant joy that almost
blinded her. For a moment she could
scarcely comprehend her great happi
ness; then a glad cry went ringing out
Into the darkness, as the strong arms
that were to be ber protection hence
forth enclosed her, while a grand
thanksgiving swept up to the golden
portals from two grateful hearts.
So we leave them, knowing that their
lives will be full of a perfect joy and
love that casteth out fear, and that after
the darkness a glorious drawing came,
promising a blessed fruition.
Tke Law or Stasias;.
Wonders of the Waters.
Among the most wonderful fish to be
found in the world is the blind Proteus,
which is found only in the subterranean
lakes of Krain, in Austria, Six fine
specimens of this creature have just
been received at the Aquarium in New
Tork city, with a consignment of sub
marine wonders from Europe, and with
proper care it is hoped they will live
for a considerable time. - In color they
are yellowish pink, which, however, on
exposure to light, becomes mottled and
subsequently turns to a dark brown.
They have long flat heads and four
short slender legs, the fore feet ending
n two nailless toes and the hind feet in
three. Strange to say, coming as they
do out of utter darkness, the creatures
have eyes. They are small, however.
ud are ordinarily completely hidden
beneath the skin. Somewhat similar to
these fish is the Mexican Axoboth, an
other strange creature just received.
Lang Tsing Tee" is the name of a
beautifully colored fish, two specimens
of which have just been sent from China.
These are of a bright golden yellow,
tipped on the fins with black, aud they
have each four lace-like tails."
London papers make mention of a
Glasgow widow who has brought suit
against a man for kissing her. with
damages laid at $2,500. There is of
late an alarming frequency of this class
of actions, which seems to demand that
our codes should be so extended as to in
elude and properly describe and limit
the offence. It cannot be the intention
of the law to put an end to all oscula
tory exercise: for there are occasions
when kissing is as legitimate as pleas
ant. What is needed, then, is such
statutory regulation as shall inform the
anxious man, accustomed to set his
face resolutely against every labial
temptation, just whom he may kiss and
whom he may not, and what shall be
the measure of damages in case the
law is broken. One of the ancient
despots was accustomed to have- his
laws written in the smallest hand and
posted in out-of-the-way places, so that
there might , be more punishment
for those who unwittingly broke them.
Bat such a barbarous practice is not to
be followed nowadays let our lips
know the danger that threatens them.
It is quite clear that damages cannot
be levied on kisses in the abstract, for
they differ as widely as do-fishes in the
sea. For "the kiss snatched hasty from
the sidelong maid," for example, only
the smallest possible damages should
be awarded. The word "sidelong, as
we interpret it, means that the maiden
was not altogether averse to the pro
cess, and it is doubtful if even an action
for trespass in the case could be sus
tained. Replevin, perhaps, would lie;
at all events no man of honor who had
stolen a kiss from a "sidelong maid"
could hesitate to return it when in
formed that she was indignant at the
theft.
But referring to the authorities most
quoted on this interesting question of
law we find frequent record of kisses
of a much graver character, In the
case of Paris vs. Helen (Marlow on
Faust) it is laid down that Helen in the
process of kissing was guilty "of suck
ing forth his soul' a practice so rep
rehensible as to merit the heaviest
damages. A case is mentioned in Sha
kespeare also where the plaintiff alle
ges that the defendant "then kissed me
hard, as if he plucked np kisses by the
roots, that grew upon my lips." Here
we have both trover and trespass, and
it is not clear that criminal indictment
for highway robbery could not be had.
In the case of Donna Julia vs. Don Juan
there was "a long, long kiss, a kiss of
youth and love," wherein specific dam
ages might be demanded, on the prin
ciple that time is money and that a
gret deal of it was wanted. In the fa
mous case of Fat i in a, also pleaded by
Tennyson, counsel for the crown, the
prosecutrix testified:
O lore, 0 tr ! esc be drew
With ere !oag kirn my whole eral tl rough
M j lip, aa anlifbt drroketh dew.
For this explanative process we
should presume the heaviest damages
would lie. Of another line of kisses.
similar to that of the moukey who
married the baboon's sister, Mr. Swin
burne has treated so long and ably that
we may suppose the court to be fa
miliar with the principles laid down in
his interesting work. It is related of
the author, Mr. Swinbnrne himself, that
some years siuce, at an English dinner
party, so entrancing and seductive was
the bloom of a fresh cheek close to his
own, he could not help but "print with
velvet lip upon her cheek such lan
guage as the tongue has never spoken,
Speedy judgment was rendered in the
case for the summary ejection of the
criminal, but execution was stayed on
the plea of emotional insanity, the con
sequence of too much sherry.
Bat it is useless to multiply instances
it will strike the reader at once that
there are kisses and kisses, and judg
ment ought not to be rendered on the
face of the certificate. No fair est!
mate of damage is possible without go
ing behind the returns to ascertain the
character of the act. It might be nec
essary in particular cases to permit the
jury to view the premises, or, perhaps.
by testative experiment, to determine
the quality of the article stolen. In
this Glasgow case, for example, it is
difficult to understand the ground upon
which so large a claim as $2,500 is made
widows beiDg ordinarily bo familiar
with processes of that character as not to
be taken by surprise, and to be open in
such a case as this to suspicions of re
sistance after the fact. But, after all,
perhaps, the best plea to the jury which
counsel for defendant could make
would be that cited by the Rev. Charles
Kingsley in the case of Pelagia:
Lips are made only to kiaa:
Haada ara auade only to toy;
yee ara made only
A Historical Pair ef aelaaara.
Among the relics loaned to the Old
South exhibition by the town of Con
cord are a pair of scissors of which the
following interesting story is told : A
young English staff officer waa fre
quently sent to Uonoora to tne nouse
of Colonel James Barrett on business
connected with the commissary depart
ment, and while waiting for a reply
would amnse himself by talking loyalty
with James Barrett's oldest daughter
Millicent. to hear her rebel replies. He
asked her what they would do if it
should become necessary for the colo
nies to resist as there waa not a person
that even knew how to make cartridges.
She replied that the--would use their
powder horns and bullets just as they
shot bears. '-That," said the young
man, "would be too barbarous. Give
me a piece of pine, ana i will scow you
how.'r : After whittling the stick to the
proper form, he took the scissors and
eat the paper for the pattern cartridge.
The aeqnel shows how apt a scholar she
was, for all the cartridges were made
nnder her superintendence by the wo
men of Concord, ner only male assist
ant being ber youngest brother, the
later Major James Barrett, who -drove
the last load of cartridges from the
bonse after the British eame in sight on
the 10th of April 1775. Albany Fne
Preu.
ing away down the hilL to the consid
erable damage of its stock and barrels.
1 picked myself np, however, and by
dint of hard running arrived above and
parallel to the bears, and commenced a
running fight with them, in which my
chances would have been a good deal
better had I had a breach instead of
muzzle loader. At last one of them
came round up the hill at me, rising
on his hind legs, pulling down branches
ana dancing and spluttering in so ludi
crous a manner that I eould scarcely
shoot lor laughter, when I did, he
got both barrels throngh the chest,
and subsided. loever got the other.
aa it had sufficient headway to escape
into some hollow rocks near the river
road. A wounded bear will often
charge with great determination. He
comes on like a cannon ball ; and the
DODular idea that he will rise on his
hind legs in time to give a shot at the
"horseshoe mark on his chest to pen
etrate which is fatal, is, as a rule.
mistake. But a shot, when he is ten or
hfteen yards off, will nesrly always
turn, if it does not kill him. The most
successful way of getting bears is to
get up very early, and go np to some
commanding position that overlooks
the pathways taken by the animals on
their return from the low gronnd.
where they go nightly to feed. They
can then either be intercepted or
marked into some cover, and after
wards beaten out. It is a sport of
which a little is great fan : but one
soon tires of it, the animals beicg gen
erally so easily killed, and famishing
neither trophy (an Indian bearskiu
beiDg a poor affair), nor food. Most
sportsmen ere long oome to agree with
the natives and let the adam-zad alone.
except when they turn np by accident,
Aheat Jockeys.
To lure oa tbe lonely.
The lorinc aad lonely, and drows them la Joj.
Bear Haatlna; la ladla.
BT A HOTTER.
The common black sloth-bear of the
plains of India ( Urtnti labiatut) is very
plentiful in the hills on either side of
tbe rtarbada, between Jubbuipnr and
Mandla. Indeed, there are few parts
of these highlands where a bear may
not at any time be met with. They are
generally very harmless until attacked.
living on roots, honey and insects,
hiefly white ants, which they dig out
of their hillocks. The natives call them
adam-xad, or "sons of men," and con
sidering them half human, will not as
a role molest them. Really, their ab
surd antics almost justify the idea.
Sometimes, however, a bear will attack
very savagely without provocation
generally when they are oome upon
suddenly, and their road of escape is
cut off. As a rale, in frequented parts
they do not oome out of their midday
retreats, in eaves and dense thickets,
until nightfall ; but, in remoter tracts,
they may be met with in tne middle of
the day. I was once charged by four
bears all all at onee, which I had come
upon near the high road between Jub
bnlphnr and Domoh, feeding nnder a
mhowa tree. I had two guns and hit
three of them, bnt had to bolt from the
fourth, who chased me about a hun
dred yards, and then dived ' into a
ravine. Jieturning to the scene of ac
tion, I found one sitting at the foot of
tree, bewailing his fate in the most
melancholy whines, and finished him
with a ball in the ear. . The other two
had gone down the elope of a hill, and
started off to bead them. The gronnd
rocky and very slippery, and I had
not gone far when I fell, my rifle slid-
In England the chief jockey is par
excellent the manikin of the period
Petted like a prima donna and made a
companion by sporting lords, his ser
vices are intrigued and paid for with a
power of diplomacy and at a rate of re
muneration known only on "the turf."
His movements are chronicled as care
fully as those of a priaee of the royal
blood. His carte de vUite are in con
stant demand. Moreover, he earns a
larger income than a Prime Minister.
To readers not versed in the ways of
racing it may be explained that when a
jockey is so fortunate aa to win a race
he is paid for his work with a fee of five
guineas, but when he is not successful
in achieving the first place he only re
ceives three guineas. He is likewise
paid two guineas for tiding in trials on
occasions when it is desirable to ascer
tain the power of some horses to win a
particular race. A few jockeys seldom
heard of as winners of races, earn a
great deal of money by riding trials.
Payment for trials is sometimes, how,
ever, included in the retainer a jockey
gets irom nis master. Jockeys of ce
lebrity are often retained bv noblemen
and gentlemen specially to ride their
horses in preference to those of other
competitors, for which thev receive
handsome wage or retaining fee. in ad
dition to the usual payments for their
services in tue saddle, win or lose.
The fees earned by a successful
jockey, speaking roundly, form the
least portion of his income, as the
presents given him by owners of horses
and numerous "admirers" in the shape
oi betters, wno nave backed his mounts
are Irequent and valuable. Gold
watches, diamond rings and breastpins
set with rubies, riding horses, dog
carts ana yachts, as well as suits of
clothes, new hats, boxes of clears and
cases of champ-igne. are freqnentlv be
stowed on jockeys who win important
races. A noted professional horseman
of ten years ago received in two sea
sons as many boxes of cigars as wonid
have stocked a modest shop. The
same lad waa also presented in the
course of his career which, although
oi snort duration, was exceedingly snc
cessfol with eleven gold watches (he
always used a silver one) and seven
finger rings set with diamonds, as well
as with other valuable jewels. Money
gifts to successful jockeys are now,
however; the order of the day, and that
such gifts are often of great magnitude
there is abundant evidence to show. It
la well known, for instance, in turf cir
cles that the jockey who rode Bosebery
(tne cnief jockey), the winner of the
last Cteurewitch at Xew-market, was
presented by the owner of the horse
with a check for 1.000 : a similar sum
was given to the jockey who rode the
winner of the Cambridgeshire, which
rice was aU o won I y Bjat-be r . Such
sums, large as they undoubtedly are.
extravagant as they may indeed appear
in tne eyes of non-racing people have
been more than once bestowed for work
well done on the race course. So far
back as the year 1824 Benjamin Smith
was presented with a testimonial of
nearly 1,000, subscribed for by a num
ber of persons, on tbe occasion of his
admirable riding of Jerry in the great
St Leger Stakes at Do n caster. Ten
years ago the jockey who rode the win
ner of the sensational Derby of that
period was presented by the owner of
Hermit, the winning horse, with a sum
of 3,000. Another gentleman cave
him what in racing parlance is called a
"monkey," which is 000. while a
present of 100 was bestowed by a
third person. Numerous offerings of
lesser value, as also some rifts of
jewelry, were likewise sent to the hero
of the race, who is said to have netted
over 1,000 by his exertions on that one
occasion, which is about double the
sum paid to Sir Walter Scott for writ
ing his celebrated poem of the "Ladv
of the Lake.' Temple Bar.
The Pretty Market Gir:
Cheap Batter.
Commercial enterprise in England
takes many forms. A soap-boiler, sit
ting in his counting-house a short time
since, was waited npon by a drummer,
and was asked what nse he made of
some peculiar refuse from his factory.
"Get rid of it," said the soap-boiler,
"in the easiest way I ean. I generally
pay to have it taken away, and am very
glad to get rid of it on those terms'
"Well. then. I snppose." said the trav
eler, "you would have no objection to
let me have it upon a contract for three
years, at a small payment?" "Cer
tainly not." said the soap-boiler. "If
yon will guarantee to take it away at
my tune. . . x ne two eame to terms and
tbe contract was drawn no and sinned
in due form. Payment for the first
quarter was made, and over a class of
sherry the soap-boiler asked his visitor
out of mere euriosity, what he did with
the rubbish. "Well, in confidence,"
said the traveler, "I don't mind tell
ing yon. We want it to make cheap
butter." .
Cincinnati boasts of a centenarian
In tbe person of Mrs. Angela Onetto,
better known as Podesta. who Is in the
109th year of her age. This venerable
lady is probably tbe oldest persou In
Ohio.
"Dear me 1 I'm sure 1 don't know
what to do ; if ever anybody was in
fix I'm in one now."
"What is it, auntie, can't I help yon
out of your fix 7
"sakee alive I no, Lntie dear, yon
can t help me one bit.
"Now, don't say that, auntie ; I'm
certain I can be of service to yon
you will only allow me. Why, I've
bean here a whole week, and Fve done
nothing but uress, read, eat and sleep,
and I'm as useless as the staffed owl
npon the bookcase in the library, and
more in the way.
"Whv. child 1" and good Mrs. Bently
stopiieu in her work of preparing
turkey for the market, and looked lov
ingly upon her neioe. "1 don't like to
hear yon talk that way. Why, bless
your dear heart, the loved child of m
dead sister can never be in my way.
"Well, auntie, I shall not feel like
coming out here to spend another
Thanksgiving if yon will not allow me
to be of some service during my stay,
Come, tell me all about your fix and
see if I am not worth something besides
running around and amusing myself
while other people are making them
selves useful."
"Ob, Lntie ! there is nothing you
can do, although I II tell yon all about
it to pacify you. ' Yon see, all this
poultry and a lot of batter and eggs
were to be delivered to-day in the city
for the day after to-morrow is Thanks
giving : and Jones, oar hired, man
sick with a cold, and can't leave his
bed ; your nncle is sway, and won't be
till to-morrow night, aud how nnder
tbe sun I am going to deliver these
things according to contract, is more
than I can tell."
To Mrs. Bently's surprise, Lntie
clapped her hands and danced around
the room crying
"Just the thing 1 capital ! capital 1"
"What on earth do you mean, child?
she managed to say, at last.
"Wtr, that I will go to the market
and deliver the goods myself. Now
don't say one word, auntie," she con
tinned as her aunt elevated her hands
and opened her month as if to give
vent to an "Oh 1" "Don't say one
word ; the idea just suits me, and I am
determined to go if you will allow me
she added.
What, you ! the dangtber and heir
ess of Judge Haines ? Tou, the belle of
the city, going to market with turkeys,
butter and eggs I
'Yes, auntie, and I can do it just as
well as Jonas would. Sow don t op
pose me 7 lnat s a good, deer soul.
Mrs. Bently really felt distressed to
know how to fulfil her contract, and
was thankful for the prospect of assist
ance, but she could hardly reconcile
herself to tbe idea that her niece, the
beauty and heiress of whom she was
proud, should perform the role of
market girl.
Lntie s arguments, however, pre
vailed, and she went to her room to
prepare for her expedition. Borrow
ing a short dress from tbe "help" she
donned it and then folded a shawl in
the shape of a mantle across hershoul
ders, and with her rich tresses hanging
over her shoulders, she looked like
lovely country girl. Placing a dainty
bat upon her bead, she tripped down
to the kitchen for her aunt's inspec
tion.
"Well, I do declare !" exclaimed that
wortbv ladv "whoever would know
you ? Why, Lutie, If I had met yon
face to face I shonld never have guessed
it was yon if 1 hadn t known.
"I am glad to hear you say so auntie
for I don t propose to be recognized by
any one. Oh, 'twil be rare fun," and
with a gay laugh she waltzed outcf the
room. "Are the things ail ready 7
she asked, stopping to take breath.
les, but the old horse must be har
nessed : can yon do it ?
"1 don t know, auntie, 1 think so : at
least 1 can try.
She skipped away to the stable, and
after a half hoar's patient toil she led
old Billy up to the door, all harnessed
and attached te the wagon. In a short
time the said wagon was filled with the
important articles for somebody's
Thanksgiving, and Lutie climbed to
the high seat, took the reins and whip
with a flourish which would have done
credit to a coachman.
"Have you got some warm gloves ?"
asked Mrs. Bently.
"Nothing bnt kid, but they will be
warm enough."
"No, indeed, they won't ; wait a mo
ment. She hastened into the house
and brought out a pair of woolen mit
tens. "Here, put those on, Lutie, yon
will need them, for it is very cold."
Lutie obeyed, and the plump little
bands looked exceedingly "funny, as
the young lady expressed it. In a few
moments more, having received her in
structions, Lutie drove away.
"Don t forget to deliver those four
largest turkeys at Colonel Ormsby's,"
called out her aunt.
"Oh, no ; but yon haven't told me
where he lives," said Lntie, stopping
and waiting for the information.
"I declare, I don t know, bnt yon
can find out at the market where yon
are to deliver the rest."
"I think I can find it " replied Lutie
and drove off.
In due time she arrived at the market
Explaining the cause of her coming,
she delivered the articles that were to
go there, and then inquired for the res
idence of Colonel Ormsby.
I cannot tell yon miss, replied the
proprietor ; but if you'll step into that
restaurant on the corner. I think yon
will find out"
Lntie hesitated ; shonld she allow
herself to enter a third-class saloon,
where she wonld be likely to come in
contact with low fellows who make
such places tboir daily resort ? In a
moment she decided to go.
Lightly she tripped across the street.
and of the slovenly looking girl behind
the counter she made her inquiry.
"l don t know, myself, miss, bnt if
yon will wait a few minutes I'll go into
the kitchen and ask one of the girls who
used to live there. ,
Again Lutie hesitated. She disliked
the idea of remaining here even for a
few minutes. What if some of her ac
quaintances should chance to pass, snd
lookmg in, recognize ner 7 Seeing she
hesitated the girl said :
If you don t like to wait here. - yon
ean step into the sitting room,"
Lntie confessed she wonld rather go
in, so the girl threw open the door of
the sittirg room and Lutie entered bnt
started back and almost fainted, for
there, seated at a table, with a bottle of
some kind of liquor before bim, and a
half-emptied, glass in his hand, she be
held Leon Lancaster, her aflianeed hus
band. , ,
"Ho I ho ! my pretty one." he eried.
rising and coming toward her with a
drunken leer npon his face which made
him actuallv loathsome. "What do
yon fear that yon luck so alarmed ?
will not harm vou ; come, give me I
kiss."
"Back 1" she eried. raising her hand
"Ah I the ltttle beauty is going to be
dignified, isn't she ? bnt yon must be
more kind ; give me a kiss."
"Back. I say I or I will call assistance.
I merely came to make an inquiry of
one of the servants, and did not expect
to meet a drunken villain.
"How spirited she is. I like that,'
he said, stooping and picking up a mit
ten she had dropped. "Ah !" he eon-
tinned, starting back, as he noticed
magnificent ring she wore npon her
for finger, "where did yon get that
ring ? Let me see it, won't you ?'
"No, 1 will not."
"Where did yon get it ?"
"It matters not now, since I came by
it honestly. I will give it to you the
next time I see yon ?"
"Bnt I must see it now," and he
stepped toward her.
"Stand back I"
"I will see that ring.
"You shall not, air 1"
"We will see."
So saying he caught her by the
shoulder, but as quick as wink the lit
tle hand came down with a smarting
blow npon his cheek.
"Ill have a kiss for that, I swear 1"
he cried ; and holding her fast, he
pressed kiss after kiss upon her lips.
At length, by a violent effort, she
freed herself from his grasp and rushed
from the room, when he called after
her :
"I shall keep the mitten, mv dear.
until we meet again."
"lne girl now entered the front shop
whither Lutie had fled from the em
brace of Leon Lancaster. She re
ceived the desired information and hur
ried away.
she completed her business and
drove home minus one mitten, bat she
was so thoroughly angry that she did
not notice that one hand was nnmb
with the cold when she got there.
Thanksgiving day arrived, and with
it numerous guests came to enjoy the
good old festivities at Farmer Bon t It's.
Lntie had taken a fancy to spend the
week with her auntie, and when she
left her city home for that pnrpose, it
was understood that Leon Lancaster
should come out and take dinner with
her on Thanksgiving Day. As he was
Lutie's affianced husband, he was of
coarse a great favorite of Mr. Bently.
Before the dinner hour arrived Lntie
went to her room to dress.
Hurry down, Lutie." said her aunt
for the company have nearly all arrived
and I wish to introduce yon before
dinner to those with whom yon are unacquainted."
I will, auntie ; and here let me beg
of yon not to find fault with my dress
when I come down," said Lntie.
"Of course not. child : wear what
pleases yon ; only be quick for Leon
will soon be here."
Lntie bounded away wearing a queer
expression npon her beautiful face, and
Mrs. Bently bustled sway to watch tbe
progress ol the preparation for dinner.
la a few moments a stylish turnout
drove np to the door, and Leon Lan
caster, looking strikingly handsome, in
elegant attire, sprang out, and after
being cordially greeted by Mr. Bentlv.
entered the house, where Mrs. Bently
met Lim, escorted him into the parlor
and introduced him to the guests
a ready there assembled.
"W here is Lutie Y he asked, show
ing the least particle of annoyance that
she had not been there to greet hin
when he first came.
She is in her room finishing her
toilet, 1 suppose, she will be in in
minute, replied Mrs. Bently.
As she left tbe parlor and passed
through the hall, Lutie came tripping
down stairs. .Mrs. Bently gave one
glance at her attire and exclaimed :
"Why, Lutie Haines, are yon crazy?
"Never more sane in my life, auntie.
ill yon present me to your guests
now ?
"What do you mean, Lutie ?"
ever mind: til explain after: a
while," said Lutie.
She word the same costume in which
she had gone to the market two days
before. Upon one hand she wore one
of tbe mittens which Mrs. Bently had
urged her to wear npon the occasion re
ferred to.
Mrs. Bently offered no further oppo
sition, and led the way to the parlor,
followed by Lutie, whom she intro
duced to the party assembled.
A portion of them looked with sur
prise npon the costume of Lutie, and
others noticed only the rare beauty of
her face.
She greeted them with a qqeenly
graceful bow, and advancing to Leon
Lancaster she said :
Mr. Lancaster, I think I promised
at onr last meeting that when next we
should meet I would exchange this
ring for the mate of this mitteu," and
she removed the gemmed circlet from
her finger.
He started to his feet.
"Great Heaven !" he cried, turned
pale, "what does this mean ?"
"It means, air, that 1 am the person
whom you met in a low restaurant on
street, and whom yon so grossly
insulted, mistaking mn for a poor
market girl. It was a freak of fancy
which prompted me to assume this
dress and take some things to market
for auntie, as nncle was away and her
hired man was ill. I shall always
thank my lucky stars that I was led to
do so, for thereby I learned your true
character," she replied, her beautiful
eyes flashing looks of withering scorn
and contempt npon him.
"Lntie, there is some mistake about
this. I "
"Sav no more, sir ; I am not mis
taken ; I saw you there in a state of in
toxication and yon grossly insulted me;
aye, yon even dared to lay violent
hands on me. Here is yonr ring: take
it; I never wish to see you again I" and
she flung the bauble at his feet and
swept from the room.
When she returned in a short time
after, dressed in her becoming attire,
aud looking regally beautiful, the seat
which Leon Lancaster had occupied
was vacant.
She entered with zest into the fes
tivities and rejoiced that she had been
saved from marrying a man wholly un
worthy to bear the name of husband.
sitz, they fought a!mot to the point of
extermination, and offered a moral re
sistance wheu that of arm no longer
availed. 1'he Northern Wends accord
ingly cease to have a history of their
own after one or twoceiituriss. Those
of the Elbe and the Spree alone survive
in the little colony of the Lausitz
swamps, aud in the memory of a brave
but useless struggle for altar and home.
Their strange repugnance to the new
civilization, the brave, prolonged, and
desperate warfare which they waged
against it, the sullen and apparently
organic incapacity to discard their pe
culiar habit.- and character even after
they ceased to defend them by force,
suggest so many points of resemblance
to the North American Indians; and in
the fate of both people there is the same
element of plaintive and romantic sad
ness which appeals to every generous
heart.
The Wends were carried into North
ern Germany by the vast movement of
people which took place in the fourth
and fifth centuries of the Christian era.
As fast as the Suevi. Franks, and other
original German tribes swept over the
Rhine and down uiwui the fair domains
of the Roman Empire, their places were
filled by other barbarians from the vast
plain, of Asia. In tho adjustment oi
these races in the West it hapiened
that the SclavesorSclavouian acquired
nearlv the whole region tmiu the tlb
eastward, including Silesia, Poland,
Prussia, and much of what is now Kus-
sia. 1 hese were not, in leetl all emls.
This term seems to have been given bv
the Saxons to such Sclaves as were
their immediate neighbors in Northern
Germany, and was hardly derived from
any corresoiiding distinction made by
the Sclaves themselves. The Wends
were also further subdivided into local
families, such as the Lutritaus and Att
orn tan.
Bv the fifth centurv the Wends were
firnilv settled in their new homes. In
culture and refinement, in the arts and
convenience of life, in agriculture,
trade and other industries, they were
not behind the Saxon, their neighbors.
Thev liveil in towns and village, and
possesed a rude system of civil gov
ernment. Ih"ir domestic Institution
revealed but too often their Oriental
origin, and in no respect more pain
fully than the position given to woman.
She was little more than a menial.
Polygamy prevailed. Mothers often
strangled their female infants to save
them from a more painful life; and in
the same way decrepit parents were
put to death by their sons, as in More'
I'tnpia, because, thev were burdens upon
the public, and a violent end insured a
happier life beyond the grave. But
they were a remarkably honest people,
abhorred a thief or a liar, and were
kind to the poor.
They were no less warlike than their
German predecessors. On land or sea,
mounted or on foot, in the opeu field,
in the swamps, or behind their forti
fied towns, they fought clumsily, but
bravely and desjterately. Their weap
ons were not unlike thoe of their
neighbor in style and quality.
Their religion was a species of poly
theism. They believed, indeed, in one
supreme fixl Belbog: but he seems to
have been a Selavie Jove among le-r
divinities, such a i 'zernbeog. the evil
spirit, and Kadegat. the god of war.
Other branches of the Sclaves had other
rsls, for no universal svtem existed.
The priests enjoyed great honor and
power, and they were the mo-t re
I ute in oition to the German.
That which the latter firt demanded
was conversion to C hristianity .t de
mand which could not lie agreeable to
the interpreters of the rival religion.
1'iiriiig two centuries the Wends Knd
Saxon lived at cace, and even in
frieudliip. The commerce of the for
mer, which began with jM-tty local
traffic, rose to a scale almost iiiiMing
along the Baltic eoat. It i aid that
three hundred hiis were sometimes
seen in their harbor ol Wenita. Traders
flocked thither from Denmark, from
Germany, from other Sclavonic land,
and even from the Orient, bringing
metallic wares, cloths, jewel, and
coins, ami carrying away .-miner. lurs.
and similar goods. In the middle of
the eleventh centurv the citv of Wenita
was captured by the Dane, and Wend
ish commerce then rapidlv decayed and
died. lUu-r' M'tijiiziite-
The Tklcvlaa; Mania.
The Pnuaiaa Wends.
This title describes the remnant of a
people once numerous, warlike, and
powerful, and the region where they
a refuge centuries ago from the con
quering arms of the Germans. It is.
indeed, the only colony which retains
any thing of tne ancient speech and
habits. Elsewhere the Wends accepted
the German religion, language, aud
laws, and gradually lost their distinc
tive character, as iu Pomerauia, Meck
lenburg, and other provinces: or, as in
the Mark of Brandenburg and in Lau-
Dr. Gall mentions having seen a per
son in prison at llibnrg, who had set
Are to his house four times in succes
sion, and who, after he had set fire to
it, tried to put it out. Some have an
Irresistible desire to steal, without any
other mark of insanity. Gall says that
the first King of Sweden was always,
stealing trifles. Instances are mentioned
of a German who was constantly pilfer
ing, and of another who, having the
desire to steal, entered the army, hoping
the severe discipline there would re
strain him. But he gave way to the
propensity even there, and was very
near being hanged, ne then became a
friar, with the same hope; but he still
felt the same desire, and carried all the
things he could to his cell; but as he
could only get trifles, he was not
noticed. Gall also mentions that a per
son at Vienna, in the babit of stealing,
hired a lodging in which to deposit his
thefts; and when he got a stock, he
sold them. He stole only houehold
matters. The wife of a celebrated phy
sician at Leyden never went into a shop
to buy anything without stealing; and
countess at Frankfort had tlio same
propensity. Another lady, notwith
standing all the care with which she
had been brought up, had the same de
sire to pilfer. Tou will find it related
of a physician, that his wife was always
obliged to examine his pockets in the
evening, and restore to his patients the
things she found there. He always
took something as well as his fee.
MeriU speaks of a criminal who, at the
moment he was ataut to be executed.
stole the confessor's snuff-box. Dr.
Burner, who was oue of the physicians
to the King of Bavaria, ieaks of a per
son who enjoyed abundance, aud had
been well educated, but who, notwith
standing, was always stealing; and
was made a soldier by his father, and
at last got hanged. The son of a cele
brated and learned man himself very
clever, and respectably connected Iu
every respect could not resist thi
propensity; and I could goon to furnish
yon with instances without end of in
dividuals who acted thus (a it would
appear) from insanity ; not from any
criminal motives, but from a bold desire
too strong for them to resist.
Elder Evans, the leader of the Le
banon Shakers, has started a graveyard
on a new plan. T e graves are to be
twenty feet apart, with a tree planted
over each, so that in time there will be
a handsome grove.
I!
i 1 i