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B. f. schweieu.
THE C0NSTITUTI05 THE TOHON-ASD THE EHTOECEMEST OF THE LAWS.
Editor and l'l-oju-iWor.
VOL. XXXI.
MIFFLIXTOWX, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENXA., "WEDNESDAY. SHITEMliEH 12. 1S77.
NO. 37.
TTi flj'WlM fl fill WW)'
BETTliR LATE THIS SEVER.
Life is a race where some suooee J,
While others are b ginning ;
Tui lack at times, at otliers speed.
That given as early wiui.ing ;
Lut if yon chance to fall behind.
Ne'er slacken your endeavor,
But keep this wholesome troth in mind
T a better late thau never.
If yoa can keep ahead, 'tis we'l.
l!ut never tnp your neiplib r ;
'Tw noble when yoa can exce'.
By honest, patieut labor ;
liut if yoa are outstripped at lat.
l'rete on as bold as ever,
Ketuember. though ycu are suqiarised.
Tie better late t an never.
Ne'er !abor for an i lie boast
Of victory o'er aU' tber ;
lint vh4e you strive your iittermxt,
Ieal fairly with a brother.
Wnate'er your station, do yeor be-.
And hold your pi r; one ever ;
And if you fail to beat the reel,
'TiS better late than never.
Choose well the path in aliuh yoa run
Succeed by uoble daring ;
Then, though at la-t, when once 'tis won.
Your crown is wcrtu the wearing ;
Then never fret, if left behind.
Nor slacken y.wr endeavor
But ever keep this truth in mud.
Tie better late than never.
The Magic Slippers!
If any one had wanted to find Eva
Arnold they would have to look behind
a shady and fragrant hedge of wild
roses and grape-vines. There sat the
witch, as her brother Allen called her,
with a book in her hand, and, wonder
ful to relate, a grave look upon her face.
"I do wonder if that tradition about
our family is true. I will ask grand
mother all about when I see her."
"I do wonder if that tradition
true," said little Eva, again, just as she
was about to sink to Bleep. "If it
is
true, and the shoes are yet in existence
I will borrow or steal them, and that as
soon as possible."
A great cloud of dust, and a great rat
tle of wheels heralded the approach of
the coach. And in that coach was
Eva's lone - looked for schoolmate,
Gertrude Wayland. At the gate of
farmer Arnold's substantial mansion
stood Eva, wsiting eagerly to catch the
first glimpse of her friend. Her brother
Allen, hidden in a secure nook, was
also looking out with no little curiosity
to 6ee the red-haired divinity, so much
vaunted by his sister.
"After all," he said to himself as he
walked toward the brook with his fish
ing aparatus under his arm. ! did
not dislike the looks of her as much as
I thought I would, but that is no reason
that I should fall in love with her."
And Alien, who had no small share of
vanity, laughed aloud.
"Xow, Allen, I've caught you at
last," cried Eva, triumphantly, as she
discovered her brother reading under
the favorite hedge. "Xow stand up
and let rue introduce you to ray friend
Gerty the best of schoolmates."
Allen rose and greeted the divinity
in the graceful and self-possessed man
ner natural to him. For the first time
he had a full view of her face by the
morning light. It was not a beautiful
face, not even a pleasing face at first
sight, and Allen was a keen admirer of
beauty; but it was a peculiar face, such
an one as makes an impression on one's
mind not easily forgotten. Eva's face
was flushed with her morning walk,
but Gertrude was remarkably pale;
there was, too, a soberness and dignity
about her, which was entirely a straneer
to Eva. Allen, as he entered with
much politeness though with little real
into a conversation in which Eva took
the principal share, secretly wondered
how two such dissimilar characters
could have formed such a close friend
ship. But he concluded that there was
no accounting for womeus' whims.
"You must drive, us over to grand
mother's to-dav. Allen said Eva. "I
positively must go there to-day."
"Well, then, if that is the case, I will
drive you over, and as women can
never keen a secret, in the course of
time vours will come out and I thall
have my laugh."
"Agreed," said Eva, "only drive us
over."
It was a pleasant drive of five or six
miles, yet Allen, who usually took the
principal part in a conversation, was
remarkably quiet, listening to the chat
of the two girls without attempting to
interrupt it.
Her hair was not red after all, it was
really a pale, golden color, and floated
around the white face, as he had seen it
in some pictures. After all, she was
unlike any one else he had ever known,
and she had the sweetest voice he had
ever heard. But the idea of falling in
love with her was really too absurd to
contemplate.
"Grandmother." said Eva after a
long silence, which she enjoyed in con
templatiug the movements of a very
pretty little foot, which tapped ner
vously upon the floor. "Grandmother,
I wish you would tell us the legend of
the magic slippers, which I heard once
when I was a very little girl. It's a
tradition aliout our family. Isn't it?"
"Why, child, it's only a silly story
about a pair of slippers. Xo one be
lieves it now-a-days."
"But the story, grandmother, if you
please."
"Well," said the old lady, as she ad
justed her ppectacles, "they say that an
ancestor of ours was once climbing a
a steep and rugged hill, and found near
the top a poor man, covered with
wounds and nearly dead with cold and
loss of blood. Our ancestor carried him
home in his arms and tended him care
fully until he was recovered. When
the stranger grew strong and well,
they discovered that he was a very
handsome man, with eyes remarkable
for their brilliancy. When he 'was
going away he gave to the wife of our
aucestor a pair of slippers. Theee was
nothing remarkable about the slippers
themselves, but as the story runs, they
were endowed with a rare gift by the
stranger. Any woman In his benefac
tress's family, whose feet the slippers
would fit, provided also that she were
a true-hearted woman, while site wore
the magic slippers, would have all the
wishes made at that time realized. But
there were but few in our family whose
feet the shoes would fit; from those
who had worn them, however, there
have come wonderfnl stories of their
great virtue. But as for me, Eva, I
have an idea that the story is all non
sense. The slippers would never begin
fit my feet, and I never had any faith
in them, so that no wishes of mine were
ever realized in that way."
"But have you really got the slippers,
grandmother?" said Eva, eagerly.
"I did have them when I was young;
perhaps they are in the attic somewhere
now. But, bless my heart, child, your'e
not going to hunt after thetu?"
"Yes, grandmother; I really think
they would fit me, and I shonld like to
try them."
Such a looking and such a devastation
there never was heard of befcre.
Grandmother would have been struck
dumb if she could have seen her attic
during tne progress of the hunt. Gerty
set herself to putting to rights what
Eva left in disorder, but it was no easy
job. Suddenly Eva uttered a cry of de
light. "I've found them!" cried Eva tri
umphantly, "now I wonder if they'll
fit."
And away ran the madcap, covered
wiUi dust and a nest of bewildered
spiders.
"I declare," said grandmother, "if
they don't fit exactly, one would think
they were made for you."
And surely enough, they fitted ex
actly. Eva took them oil' very soon,
and folded them in their, wrapper, re
membering that grandmother had said
that she who wore them must be a true
hearted woman. She wanted time to
think whether she were true-hearted or
not.
It so happened that Eva had no more
opportunities for trying on the slippers
while the visit lasted. So she carried
them home with her. Allen did not
make his appearance to drive them
home, but in his stead one of the farm
laborers.
"Oh, Gerty," cried Eva, as the farm
house came in sight. "I am so glad we
are at home; now I shall try my magic
shoes."
But Eva's usually quiet home was in
a great state of excitement. Something
unusual seemed to have happened,
which affected all the household, though
in different ways.
"What has happened?" asked Eva,
anxiously, of Allen, when she found
him alone that evening.
"Why, the trouble is, that we are in
danger of losing our old homestead.
Some one has set up a claim to it, the
falsity of which cannot be proved, be
cause that an all-important paper has
been lost. We have searched the house
through, but our search has been use
less. One hope still remains, that the
paper may be at grandmother's; it
might have been carried there among
other papers. To-morrew I will drive
over, as I am very anxious about the af
fair. The loss of this farm, after so
many years of hard labor bestowed
upon it, will almost kill father."
The next day was an anxious one to
Eva, and in sympathy with her, Gerty
was anxious also. She talked of going
home, But Eva wonld not allow it. The
little lady had no idea of having her
schemes spoiled by such a movement.
J. he long alternoon wore away
slowly, as the girls watched the return
of Allen from his search. Afternoou
wore into evening, and evening wore
into night. The family concluded that
Allen was not coming that night, and
accordingly they separated with no
hope of seeing him till morning. But
Eva felt confident that Allen would re
turn that very night, so she sat up wait
ing for him, walking to and fro rest
lessly, and listening for the sound of his
whels. She fancied Gerty was asleep
upon a sofa, where she had persuaded
her to lie down a few moments before.
Xo one in the house was stirring.
Xow I shall try my magic shoes,'1
said Eva, aloud to herself. I do hope
and pray that I am true-hearted."
One slipper was a little rebellious and
would not go on easily., but Eva man
aged at last to get her foot into it. Then
as Gerty seemed sound asleep, and could
not hear, she ventured to speak her
wishes aloud.
"First and foremost," said Eva,
since it has been the greatest hope of
mv heart for a long time, I do wish
that my brother Allen would fall in
love with and marry Gertrude Wayland.
Secondly, I wish that the paper which
proves our right to this house of my
childhood may be speedily found, and
that my father may be as happy in the
possession of that which his cheerful
labor has endeared to him, as it is pos
sible to be."
There was indeed the sound of wheels
outside, and Eva ran down to meet
Allen, without ever thinking of her
slippers or wishes. She met him at the
door, and at the first glance his anxious
face told her that his search had been
useless.
'Xo hope left, Eva," were his first
words. "Sooner or later we are likely
to lose our home. Grandmother has
searched her house from cellar to attic,
and there is no sign of the paper."
Wearied and depressed, Allen cast his
eyes downward, and they rested upon
Eva's embroidered slippers.
"What a fanciful pair of slippers,
Eva," said Allen, suddenly roused from
his weariness. "Did you einflroider
those, little sister?"
'Xo," said Eva, a little embarrassed ;
"thev are not mine."
Wondering a little at Eva's evident
confusion, Allen was about to relapse
into his former anxious mood, when
his sister took oil one of the slippers,
with the remark that it was much tighter
than the other, she wondered why it
didn't fit- Allen took up the slipper
mechanically, and commenced examin
ing it. There seemed to be something
in the toe which occupied considerable
space. Listlessly Alien punea out mat
with which the toe was stuffed, and was
not a little surprised when he discov
ered a neatly folded paper. He ojn'iied
the paper much in the same way as he
had taken it from the slipper, and then
suddenly Eva was struck with un
mingled wonder, to see her lately sad
brother jumping around the room in a
way that savored much of Insanity.
"I've found the precious paper, Eva,"
said Allen, at length, overturning a
table and all its contents in his great
the affair became clear to
Eva. Some mischievous person at grand
mother's must have stuffed the paper
into the slipper, without ever dreaming
that he was doing mischief. One by
one the family came trooping down
sta'rs, aroused by the great noise of the
overturned table. But none felt that
they had paid too dear for their trouble,
when they heird the good news.
"Gerty, I'm a firm believer in tradi
tions, aud especially that of the magic
slippers," said Eva, one day.
"Because both your wishes were real
ized," s.iid Gerty; "especially the first,
which seemed very improbable."
"You're a traitor," cried Eva.
"Not at all," was Gerty 's reply. "I
couldu't help hearing your wishes (hat
light, for I was not asleep, as you sup
posed." In the process of Time Allen and Gerty
were married, aud little Eva, trusting
and true hearted, went on her way with
a firm belief in the mngic slippers.
riiutograpliy in Disease. j
We have in photography an excellent
means of determining the condition of
the blood. According to its quality,
the blood dejiosits mole or less impure
material in all the cellular tissues.
Suchdcositsoceuralso in the sebaceous
glands of the skin, which secrete a na
tural fat and deposit it in the mucus
layer between the true skill and epider
mis. Although the color of the mucus
layer is visible through the epider
mis, its finer shades are not seen in this
manner, yet they ap)iear in the photo
graphic n.'gj'.tive with such sharpness
that the slightest impurities are here
apparent as dark sjieeks.
This phenomena is cine to what may
be called the photography of the invisi
ble that is. to that remarkable property
of light by tirtue of which the chemi
cal action of color rays falling upon the
plate varies with the rapidity of their
transmission to it. It is interesting to
oliserve the accuracy with which the
condition of the skin is thus shown,
varying as the shade iikii the plate
docs, from the utmost delicacy and
purity to a M-culiar sieve-like character
that is, ap)ieariiig as if punctured
with innumerable little holes; these in
the worst cases being irregularly uni-
teu, so as to present a more or less
ragged and uusiglitlv apiiearauce. After
a person has taken fat, beer, tobacco,
and other like injurious substances into
the system, even for a little time, the
negative exhibits this punctured a
pcarance; while in the case of those
whose manner of life is wholly corrupt,
these defects are often magnified into
such blotches as are seen upon the face
itself in skin diseases. SeliUrlfysen't
"Fruit awl Mretid."
The Catttlpa as a 1 imiImt Tree.
In regard to the caul pa, says the
German town Telegraph, there seems to
be no doubt that, while it is one of the
most rapid-growing trees we have, it is
also one of the most durable of woods.
We have seen figures which we have no
reason to doubt are correct; and the
writer has recently seen a post taken
up after eight years of service that was
as good as the day it was first Set.
Eight years is of course no very great
period for a post to last, but from all
appearance there is no reason why it
should not endure at least three times
what it has stood : and a quarter of a
century is tolerably good for a fence
post. The trouble with the catalpa is
that the terminal bud does not ripen
when young, and so gets killed iu our
winter. The bud below, pushing, makes
a crooked stem, and In this way the
trunk of the mature tree is not as
straight as is desirable in a satisfactory
timber tree. To remedy this the trees
are suffered to grow as they will for a
couple of years, until the roots get
strong. They are then cut to the ground
when a smooth straight shoot goes up
ten feet high in one season, generally
maturing its bud, and laying the foun
dation of a pretty trunk. Such a stem
is generally two inches thick ; ami as in
any fair ground it will increase at the
rate of an inch a year, we have in three
or four years after a trunk five or six
inches thick quite thick enough for
many useful pieces of work upon a
farm. But these six-inch stems, cut to
the grounp, then throw up shoots of
amazing strength, making a new and
beautiful timber tree with surprising
rapidity.
Severe Keprimaud.
Chief Justice Marshall was in the
habit of going to market himself, aud
carrying home his purchases, r re-
quently be would be seen returning at
sunrise, with poultry in one Hand,
vegetables in the other. On one of
these occasions, a fashionable young
man who had removed to Richmond,
was swearing violently because he
could find no one to carry home his
turkey.
Marshall stepped up and asked him
where he lived. "That is my way and
I will take it for you."
When they came to the house, Uie
young man inquired, "what shall I pay
you?"
"Oh, nothing," said the Chief Justice,
you are welcome. It was iu my way
and no trouble."
"Who's that old man who brougtit
home my turkey for me?" inquired the
young man of a bystander.
"That" replied he, "is Mr. Marshall,
Chief Justice of the United States."
"Why did he bring home my turkey ?" j
"To give you a severe reprimand, and
to teach you to attend to your own
business," was the reply.
I think it must be somewhere written
that the virtues of mothers shall, occa
sionally, be visited upon their children
as well as the sins of fathers. Dickens.
Charlotte Bronte.
Xot long after the death of her father,
a leading journal in this country re
joiced that there were no more Brontes:
"none left to bear that name which
meant misery and spiritual unhealth"
a statement which has waited long
for qualification, certainly demanded in
the case of the elder sister. Xothing is
more true than that Mr. Bronte and his
children possessed very positive traits,
aud in combination jieculiar to them
selves, producing a very striking family
idiosyncrasy. It is plain enough that
Anne was unhealthy, that Branwell
made a wreck of his life, and that Emily
was a different kind of women from any
we shall be likely to meet with. Xo
other proof is needed of this last asser
tion than "Wuthering Heights." It is
not to lie desired that another such book
should he written, powerful beyond
most novels though it lie. Its charac
ters are detestable, but drawn with
such iHildness, that we are apalled at
the nerve of the writer who could con
ceive of such a group of beings, or, hav
ing conceived, carry them on through
their individual parts to the end without
faltering. Those five or six men and
women stand out distinct from any
company in all fiction. And the girl
who projected them against the back
ground of that inhuman story was dis
eased in feeling and in judgement un
sound. Yet. all through that liook of
warped but giant growth, what a keen
relish of nature's delights is shown,
what tenderness for wild birds, what
joy iu the purple moss, what passionate
love for the freedom aud gladness or
outward life! Surely such influences
are kindly; and subject to them, Emily
Broute, had she lived, might one day
find healing.
But Charlotte did such service for
justice and humanity, did so exalt
duty and self-sacrifice, that the world
must come more and more to recognize
both the service and the spirit. Author
and woman cannot tie separated; in
Jane, Caroline, and especially Lucy,
are laid bare the struggles of a heart
which could find its only rest in the
niany-inou tided churchyard at Haw
orth. Incomparably better than Mrs.
Gaskell, do these tell her history the
roots which that biographer said
"struck down deeper than she could
penetrate" are shown in the so-called
fictions. The (ialaxn fur July.
Ancient Mode of Embalming the Dead.
Herodotus and Diodorus tell of ttiree
modes of embalmment prevalent iu
Egypt. The first was very costly, an
swering to aliout TJ,H0, exclusive of
such gems, jewels, ami gold as love and
prodigality might lavish it sin the dead:
lhe second, $:tuO; ttie third within the
reach of all. As to the extent to which
gems and jewels were wound up in the
cerecloth to deck the dead, there is the
instance of the queen lately found at
Thelies, whose ornaments were shown
in our r.xhilution or 1X4. I hey are
now in the Pasha's Museum. Their
intrinsic value alone, that is. to break
up and meltdown, is several thousand
Miunds. It is curious in reading the
two historians' accounts of the Egyp
tian enilialuier to observe in divers mat
ters the foreshadowing of the modern
undertaker in his ways. The different
degrees of woe were then as now
sounded according to the depth of the
purse. Just as it is now, when the
furnisher will uudert-ike for you any
gradation of sorrow from the simple
elm colli n and pauer fuueaal up to the
flourish ami parade of plumed hearse.
weeping mutes ami prancing steeds, so
with the Egyptian. Onlv the manner
was different. When a liereaved
mourner, thev tell us, went into one of
these Egyptian shops, the functionaries
would show him different models in
wood highly and artistically finished,
or otherw ise, to represent the mummy
ami coffin. There were painted patterns
of mummies in their multi-colored cases
to choose from. The various costs, ac
cording to pattern, were then stated.
The customer chose his model, ami
the bargain was struck. He then went
home and sent back the dead ImmIv, and
the body remained witli the embalnier
until the whole process was completed.
The number of days req nisi te for em
balming was, as we gather from tioth
historians, seventy or seventy-two, and
this tallies witli the Scripture account
(Gen. 1.3); for doubtless the i mmcdiatc
process only occupied part of the time,
the rest being given to the ritual of
mourning. I he processes lor embalm
ing are related very categorically. In
some things they hardly commend
themselves to our present sentiment of
what is res-icctful to the dead. The
chief secret seemed to consist in certain
chemicals injected into the veins and
liody; in certain washings and sleep--ings
in natron, and in the filling-lip of
the cavity of the body with myrrh and
other balsamic substances and spices.
The brains were drawn mt through the
uo-trils. Sometimes the face and hands
were gilt. Certain jewels w ere laid on
the brea-t under innumerable swath
ing of linen. Ami then a kind of
pictured shell received the body a sort
of close-fitting case maile to open and
hut lengthwise after the fashion
of a violin case. But when the
miiiumv was sent houit what then?
'lie family did not immediately part
with it. On the contrary, they often
kept their dead relative for a long
w bile, a guest in liisown house. A room
was set apart. The mummy, standing
upright as in life, was enshrined in a
kind of painted cabinet a tabernacle
starred over with innumerable hiero
glyphics, and protected with great
painted scaralia-i and multi-colored
cherubim, with their overshadowing
wings spread athwart the chest. Hither,
then, at intervals, the family would
oome to hold communion with the
dead. They would bring fresh lotus
flowers to enwreath their silent rela
tive, or strew about the ground blos
soms of asphodel and papyrus. Xum
berless paintings in the tombs of Egypt
picture this affecting scene a mother
and her children kneeling in a circle
with the dead in their midst, or a wife
with plaintive face and dishevelled hair
embracing the placid-Hooking mummy
of her husband. Listen to what Dio-
dorus says : "A clever embaltner," he
writes, -"would send back the body
perfectly preserved, even the hair of
the eyelids and eyebrows remaining
undisturbed; the whole appearance so
unaltered that every feature might be
recognized. The Egyptians, therefore,
who sometimes keep their ancestors in
magnificent apartments set apart, have
an opportunity of contemplating the
faces of those who died long before
them, and the height and figure of
their bodies bein distinguishable, as
well as the character of the counten
ance; they may enjoy a wonderful
gratification, as if they lived in the
society of those they see before them."
SiiHiltii at Iltna.
The l.omlon Custom Houne Curiosities
tn Amu-cicHna; Operations.
The Custom House contains a museum
of curiosities memorials ot attempts
at smuggling. Various causes have con
tributed to the decline of coiitrahandisui
as a means of livelihood, chief among
which are the necessary reduction and
alterations in the customs tariff since
the adoption in England of free-trade
principles. When such valuable and
portable articles as watches and lace
were heavily taxed, the temptation to
secrete them was naturally very com
mon. At the same period, too, the
duty on spirits was about five times as
much as its intrinsic worth, and there
fore this class of goods afforded a rich
harvest to the successful smuggler.
Things are changed now, for lace anil
watches areduty free, and the tax iihui
spirits has been reduced considerably
more than one-half. Tobacco and
spirits, owing ierhaps to the universal
demand for them, have always above
other tilings, met with the smuggler's
particular reganl; aud such cases, as
now come In-fore the Police magistrates
are generally confined to these two
articles. A matter-of-fact heavy fine
and confiscation of the surreptitious
goods is the usual result of conviction;
aud the smuggler whom our child
hood's fancy painted as a brave hero,
fighting the my Hindoos of an oppressive
Government in some wild cave on the
seashore is quietly walked off to
prison until he can pay the forfeit.
"The Smugglers Cave," still remains;
for w ith that clinging fondness for pat
times, it is the fashion to dignify any
natural crevice in our cliff's with that
title; but now the modern Mliceman J
steps upon the scene, and oetical ideas
vanish with the sound of his creaking
contract boots. The chief evidence of
smuggling as it has existed within the
present century is furnished by certain
articles which have been seized from
time to time, and which are now lodge. I
iu the Custom House Museum. It is to
this museum that we now intend to
direct our readers attention, and
more especially to a certain large cabi
net in the corner of the room, the con
tents of w hich supply a title to this
paper. The first thing w hich is pointed
out to u in a ship's "fender," which
we mav remind our readers is a block of
wood with a rope attached slung over
the Ihiws to prevent the abrasion w hich
might lie caused by contact w ith another
vessel. This particular fender was
found to lie hollow, aud to contain
several pounds of compressed tobacco.
The officer w ho thought of looking for
the soothing weed in such a receptacle
must have Iieen an extremely 'cute
individual. But here is a still more ex
traordinary hiding-place, and one
which must have involved a journey
aloft for its detection a ship's Mock,
the sheave or wheel of which isaetually
made of solid tobacco. Here is an orna
mental iH'destal which once adorned
the corner of a Captain's cabin, and
would perhaps adorn if still, had it not
liceii found gorged with contraband
cigars. Another commander appears
to have been a more moderate smoker,
for lie was content with only two
pounds of cheroots, w hich were found
inside a sham loaf on his breakfast
table. Here we haves numlicrof cigars
knotted singly on a string, like the tail
of a kite; these were dropied lietwecn
the inner and outer timliers of a shin's
side; n hile holes drilled in the ends of
an egg-lmx furnished lodging for sev
eral more. A broom stick docs hot
'in at first sight to offer much room
for concealment, but here is one which.
accidentally broken, revealed a core of
that rope-like commodity known to
those to chew the weed as "pig-tail."
Cakes of toluicco formed to tit into the
oleofaboot show another ingenious
mole of di-Hi-al. lint the prize for in
ventive talent must certainly
awarded to the clever rascal w ho coin-
pressed snuff into slabs, and stamMiI
them to exactly imitate the oil-cakes
on w hich cattlenre fattened. Whether
the discovery or the deception was
ow ing to moral ohjectiousoii the part of
some exjierieiiced cow toehew'aiiythitig
stronger than cud does not transpire;
hut the real nature of the food was
somehow ascertained, and what might
have proven the staple of a lucrative
trade was transformed into the origi
nal dust from w hich it sprang.
A Krave Lady.
Charlotte Bronte's sister Emily, the
authoress of "Wuthering Heights,"
IKissessed extraordinary courage. Timid
as a fawn in society, and afraid to hear
herself speak, but in the face of appall
ing danger she was elf-iossessed.
know ing no fear. She was passion
ately fond of dogs, and always took
them for company in her walks. One
day w hen she was giving water to a
dog at the wirsonage door tier father
was a clergyman he bit her hand
severely, and showed evident symp
toms of madness. The brave girl ut
tered no cry of pain, nor called for
help. Walking calmly to the kitchen,
she found an iron heating on the fire,
and applied it to her arm. She held it
there without flinching till the wound
was thoroughly cauterized, and a broad
scar remained, which was visible to the
day of her death. Xeither of her sisters
knew what had happened till many
weeks afterward, when, thinking all
danger had passed, she Informed them.
During the Franco-Prussian war an
incident happened not recorded iu any
of the voluminous histories of the cam
paign which are now getting dusty on
the library shelves, but which, though
laughable in its results, was far more
interesting to the parties concerned
than the records of the most sanguinary
battles. It had to do with a fine young
German officer named Fritz Von Weber,
a professor in a provincial university,
but who had been drafted off with his
regiment. He was in love with a girl
named Zaire, an Alsatian, whose
father was a general in the German
army, and the story is related by the
brother of Fritz, as follows :
"W hen they parted he said to her :
" 'I shall al ways be'
" 'En Garde! cried Zaire.
"Then Fritz rode off ; then Zaire wept
in her chamber, for the great General
Von Homberg, the father of Zaire,
shook his head.
" 'A teacher!' he cried, 'my daughter
marry a teacher never.'
" 'I w ill,' sobbed Zaire.
" 'I say you wou't," snorted the Gen
eral.
" 'But I will I will I will,'snap-ed
Zaire.
"They parted in anger; the General
went off to the war; Zaire was sent to
the country. When Fritz reached his
quarters he found a friend, one Dr.
Max Von Bulow, a great joker, who
had taken a great liking to Fritz.
" 'What's the matter with you,
Fritz?'
" 'Xothing,' sighed Fiitz.
"'Bah!' laughed Dr. Max, 'who Is
she?'
" 'Zaire Von Homberg,' answered
Fritz, 'the dearest, sweetest little angel
that'
" 'Yes, yes,' cried Dr. Mix, 'I know,
I know ; but phew ! what made you fall
in love with her?'
"Fritz told him all about it. Dr. Max
was Interested.
" I hate old Humbug,' he said. 'I'm
fond of fun. Let me alone. I'll get
you out of this. I'll have a laugh and
you shall marry Zaire.
" 'You can't help me, groaned Fritz;
'uoliody can.
' 'My boy, said Dr. Max solemnly,
with an ordinary man things are im
possible; with an old soldier like my
self nothing is impossible.'
"One evening a few days after this
conversation Dr. Max came to Fritz.
" 'Fritz!"
'"Well?"
" 'To-morrow old Humbug takes his
usual ride along the north road. He
goes unattended; you must be in the
littie wood by the spring; he will be
attacked by a number of our fellows
disguised as the enemy. When he is
attacked you uiust rush forth aud rescue
him. In his gratitude he will reward
you Zaire shall be yours."
'The morrow came. Down the road
on his old horse came the General ; sud
denly from the w ood rode a squ.t i of
the enemy terrible fellows. The
General saw them and turned to fly.
The old horse was stubborn ; he com
menced to jump up and down, and the
result was that the General was cap
tured. The enemy put a rope about the
General's neck. They were going to
hang him. The General shed tears.
" 'I am ttie General Von Homberg,' he
groaned.
"The enemy grinned, and threw one
end of the rope over the branch of a
tree.
" 'I I am a father,' soblied the Gen
eral. "The enemy gave a strong pull at the j
roie.
"I I an still in the prime of life
don't hang me; please don't,' cried the
fiencral.
The rope tightened.
" A shout was heard ringing shots,
tierce words, the trampling of hoot's,
the enemy fled the General was saved.
His deliverer bowed before him.
"It was Fritz. The general would
have preferred the hanging. The
young man bowed low.
"'Your pass!' thundered the Cen
eral. ' 'I I have none, said Fritz.
" 'You heard the orders return to
camp and report yourself under arrest !
snorted the General.
"That evening Fritz poor Fritz
sat in his tent; a guard walked before
the door. But all the army rang with
the praises of the General, who bad that
day met a squad of the enemy, and, single-handed,
had defeated them.
"Dr. Max was furious. He imitated
the General's horse he juuiied up and
down and snorted.
"'I'll fix him!' he cried; 'I'll show
him up.'
"Then he took his pen and sat down
and wrote the whole story out the
true story.
" 'To morrow,' be said, 'I'll send this
to my paper, unless he compromises.'
"He stood before the Geueral.
" 'Ah, Ioctor Von fiulow, what do
you wish?'
" 'Can I see you alone, General '!'
"The General's aid retired.
" Jeneral, we have had enough.'
" 'Enough what?'
" 'Humbug.'
" 'How?'
" 'Those men were your own men. I
have their account of the affair. It is
not complimentary to you; it is very
complimentary to Fritz; General, Fritz
must marry your daughter.'
"'Sir! thundered the general, "do
you presume
" 'Oh, yes,' sniiled Dr. Max; yes, I
do presume. I own a newspaper, you
know. The whole account must go for
ward. In three days the whole world
will be in a broad grin over you and
your horses unless
" 'Unless what?"
" 'Unless Fritz marries Zaire.
"The General hesitated. He bad been
praised, honored he dreaded ridicule.
" 'Come down !' cried Dr. Max. 'It's
no use holding out, General. Come
down like man !'
"The General hesitated, turned,
wriggled, fumed and offered money;
bat 'twas of no avail.
" "Corae down !' cried Dr. Max, 'come
down. Shall Zaire marry Fritz?'
" Yes, grow led the General.
" 'And you will introduce hiui as
your son-in-law at once, and release
him from arrest?'
" 'Xo that is, I mean yes.
" 'And you w ill give him an appoint
ment make him your secretary ?'
" 'i won't.
" Ah !'
" 'Well, I will.
"Fritz was released, received his ap
pointment, the affair was kept quiet,
the General was still regarded as a
hero, and promoted.
" 'But. Zaire,' said Fritz, as he looked
into her happy face after a long parting,
'I should never have won you if it had
not been that Dr. Max was
" 'En Garde!' laughed Zaire."
KlirtatloK.
Xo hearts are really brokeu by it ; it
is merely a game carried on by two per
sons of the opposite sex, and by no
means a bad way of passing the time.
The girl of the period is always being
attacked. I prefer her to the typical
character good girl of former periods.
She is accused of occasionally using a
word or two of slang. But the slang
of one century is ttie language of the
next century. She is accused of liking
to adorn her person. All things else
being equal, a well-dressed girl is pre
ferable to an ill-dressed girl. She is ac
cused iu a vague, general sort of way,
of being fast. Practically, this means
that a girl has good animal spirits. And
why should she not? The rule is abso
lute, but quiet girls are generally far
more likely to come to grief than what
are termed fast girls. If I had daugh
ters, I should keep my eye on the quiet
daughter, with pre-Kaphaelite proclivi
ties, so good, that she would regard
her papa as a sinner, with doubts as to
the propriety of bails and theatres, and
always discussing doctrinal questions
with the curate, rather than on her
''fast" sisters. Life is short, but youth
is far shorter; let a girl make the most
of it ; let her ride, and dance, and flirt
to her heart's content. If her parents
can afford it, let her dress well, and
dress often. Let her not pretend that
she cannot say "1h" to a goose; on the
contrary, let her say many "bo's" to
many geese. Let her join in amuse
ments whenever she gets a chance. If
a man tries to turn her head, let her ac
cept the challenge, and, having turned
his head, laugh at him. He will not be
the worse for the lesson.
I After all, the business of a girl is to
cease to be a girl by becoming a wife,
Here, too, the poor girl is admonished
! and abused by her censors. Theoreti-
cully, a girl is expected to take no ac
count of the position of her future hus
band, but to marry the man for whom
she feels an Inclination. This view of
life is diligently inculcated in covels
and plays. It is, however, an absurd
view, and those who act upon it are
exceedingly foolish. A girl should
never sacrifice her whole future to a
mere fleeting fancy. What are termed
love-marriages are seldom happy mar
riages. In ninety-nine cases out of a
hundred, love in a cottage means misery
in a cottage. The French proverb Is
true, that in love, Tun aime et 1' autre- e
liiiaae aimer, la the love of women,
there is far less individuality than in
the love of men. The fact is, that to
most women, men are but hooks, upon
which they hang their general desire to
be affectionate, and between one hook
and another hook, they have but very
little choice. Habit, too, is a very po
tent spell. Love is but a fever, of very
temporary character. Married people
who get on well together, generally do
so because they are united by a commu
nity of interest, aud they have acquired
a habit of partnership. If I were a girl,
and I liked a rich man, but loved a poor
man, and could marry either, I should
not hesitate a minute between them,
but I should marry the rich man, and
lie, If the occasion presented itself, a
kind sister to the poor man. Xothing
is more ridiculous than the theories of
marriage that are propounded for the
benefit of girls. .
A ftleiii lnit-ry.
It seems strange so fond of the sha
dow of Iieath, if I may so call the
gloomy groves of Scutari, and yet
neglectful of (heir dead! They will
swarm to the cemetery and spend the
whole day ill eating, drinking and
-inokiiig, reveling in the midst of the
tomlis. They will invite one another
from grave to grave, and present coffee
aud pix'- the most festive manner.
Indeed, you have only to knock at a
head-tone and you are sure of. i warm
Welcome. But they w ill not pluck the
rank weeds that flourish iu that fatten
ing soil; they will not set up the monu
ment that staggers and is a shame to
them; they will not turn out the jack
that stands knee-deep in the loam and
tickles his ear on the wooden fez of the
late head of the family. All through
the dark valley there are small ales,
thronged with weary pilgrims, who
thus cheer their solitary journey to the
tomb. There are strolling minstrels
also, w ho entertain the mourners with
the Mems of llatiz, and dancers, with a
dance of death that gives delight to the
living.
Beggars line the way, Turkish atroci
ties not ea-ily to In- recognized as hu
man. I saw three blind men sitting in
a row, shoulder to shoulder; their legs
were crossed in the dust of the road
side; their bands were raised in sup
plication, and their beads lolled iimiii
their shoulders as the three rocked
their tKnlies to and fro ami sang a piti
ful terzo. A dish in front of them re
ceived from time to time a small tribute
of copper, but the old men sang on oli
livious of the idlers w ho lingered near
them; oblivious of all things earthly
if their withered faces did not belie
them. I could think only of those
blinded quail who pipe night and day
in their cages, aud at whose calling
the free birds gather but who knows
what the quail In his cage is singing of.
Sam Fruueitcu Chronicle.
In every rose there Is a thorn. The
art of true living aonslsts In portaking
of the good and rejecting Its evils.
Irtsh Sucb-tjr la High Life.
Attempts at the abduction of heir
esses were then of more frequent oc
currence than a lover of Ireland could
desire. Mr. Fronde has made the most
of this blot on their civilization, but he
has forgotten that such outrages were
not iu those days peculiar to Ireland.
Mrs. I Many relates a flagrant case
w hich came under her immediate no
tice. Miss MacIVrmot was a Con
naught lady who with her sister had
inherited a large estate. They were
originally Catholics, but decided on
becoming Protestants. Their intention
was suspected, and their maternal un
cle, whose name was Flinn, asked them
folds house to dine, the distance not
licing so great as to prevent them from
returning home in the evening. They
had never hail a quarrel w ith this uncle,
and could not w ell refuse the invitation,
though they would rather not have
gone, the eldest sister having rejected
an offer of marriage from Flinn's only
son. After dinner they prepared to
leave, but the uncle insisted on their
remaining fonhe night. They refused
firmly but litely, and were then told
that the chaise and servants had gone
home, but would return for them the
next day. Miss M i, ls rin.it was much
frightened, but. as they had no redre-s,
she concealed her feeling-, and they sat
down to cards. White engaged ju this
way four men with uia-ks rushed into
the room. The two sifters made their
escajie into the next apartment, but
were followed by the ina-ked men.
One of these seized iijsm Miss Maria
MacDermot. who had hid Is-liind a tied,
but w hen he saw w hich he had he flung
her from him with an oath, saying that
-he was not the right sister. The sr
liou of the elder being double that of
the other explains this ungallant pro
ceeding. Mi.-s Maclvrinot wa- then
seized and dragged back into the room,
w here her uncle was still standing by
the tire. He took no notice of her tears
and entreaties, but allowed her to be
forcisl into the hall, where a crowd of
Flinn's friends and followers were as
sembled. They set her on a pillion be
hind the principle ma-k. Hie was a
tall, strong woman, ami Mruggled -o
violently that she -no-ceded in getting
off the hore. While thev were en
deavoring to put her back again, she
managed to get the sword of one of the
men, for they were all an 1 with
sword and bludgeons. Then. like a
true Amaoii,
RVr t.;t-k atraiti.f s tis- -h l-w.
Antt ftrmly pltr.1 h-r l.tl l-!or.
and defended herself lor some time, till
one of the gang ran a - word tip her arm
from her w rist to her ellsiw . and obliged
her to drop her weaMm. Being no
longer able to resist between extreme
pain and lo-s of blood, she w a- taken to
a cabin, where the cousin came in witli
a priest ami some other-. The prie-t
told her that if -he submitted to the
ceremony of marriage with Mr. Flinii.
she should be treated with kindness
and respect. She declared he would
rather die than marry one w ho had In-cii
guilty of such outrageous conduct.
They tried lo force the ring on her fin
ger, and the priest was prs-eeding with
the ceremony when the lady seized a
jug of milk which s'oo.1 on a table near
and da-hed it in the face of "His IJev.
erence." Some of the party coming in
gave the alarm to 1 linn, saying in a
whi-T that the country was raised
and in pursuit of them. More iiie-.-eii-gers
came to confirm the news. The
lady's arm was still bleeding prol'ti-ch .
and they carried her out and plunged
her up to the shoulder in a bog, two
men lieing left to guard her. This sin
gular treatment -topped the. bleeding,
but, though she was -non rei ucd, she
remained tweutv-oue da s in great pain
and danger. Her -i-ter had pt eioiily
escaped ill time to give the alarm.
Some months after tln-y came to Dublin
and read their recantation in Dr. Ie
lany's church.
Cleplmnt in iiirk-uinl.
On the river Ganges, says a military
journalist, there are many quicksands;
and during our expedition a somewhat
distressing scene happened. An ele
phant incautiously came within the
vortex of one; first one foot sank, then
another; and in endeavoring to extri
cate himself, matters became worse; no
portion of either of his legs was at last
visible, and the bystanders hail given
up the poor animal as lost; being fortu
nately, unusually jiowerful, he three
several times, with what appeared to all
supernatural strength, drew a foot from
the closely clinging earth, placed it
where, by sounding with his trunk, he
found the most solidity ; not until the
third time did the ground !ear his pres
sure, when he gradually released him
self. During the whole iieriod of his
troubles his cries were exceedingly dol
orous, and might have been heard a
couple of miles; his grunt, when they
were at the end, was equally indicative
of satisfaction. The internal applica
tion of a bottle of strong spirits soon
dissipated his trembling and restored
his equanimity. Many unfortunate ele
phants are lost in these treacherous
sands, when large quantities of grass or
branches of trees are not at hand to
form an available support for them.
After aj certain time the poor beasts
becomes powerless; and the owner can
only look with sorrow at the gradual
disappearance of Ids' noble animal, and
lament the pecuniary loss he thereby
suffers, for all human aid is futile.
They have teen known to lie twelve
hours before entirely sinking.
The Three Teulions."
. Iiilrnlii'ii. If a boy has a sum to
work out, or a lesson to learn by heart,
lie will not lie apt to suei-eed unless he
goes at it with a will, or unless he "in
tends" to do it.
?. AIUhIi',h. If lie is to succeed, a
boy must withdraw his thoughts from
tops, balls, kites, and such like; he
must not chatter w ith his school fel
lows, but must for a time give his whole
mind, or 'attends" to the lessons be
him. 3. KtrntiuH. It is of little u-e to
learn anything unless w e remember it.
or "retain" it in the mind.
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