B. F. SCHWEIER,
THE C05ST1T U TlOlT THE USIOI-AID TEE EHTOEOOIEST OF THE LAWS.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXXI.
MIFFLINTOTVX, JUNIATA COUNTY, PEXXA., WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 28. 1877.
NO. 48.
SONG.
I know not if moonlight or starlight
B soft on the 1 nd and the sea,
I catch but the near light, the far light,
Of eye that are burning for me ;
Ther scent of the night, of the rosea,
M t burden the air for thee. 8re t,
'Tu ouly tne breath of the aighing
I know, aa I lie at thy feet.
The winds may be aobb'ng or ainging.
Their touch may be ferrent or cold.
The night belle may toll or be ringing.
I cire not. while thee I enfold !
The feast may go on, and the music
Be acatteiej in ecataay round
Thr whwper. -I loe thee! I lore thee!"
Hath flooded my eool with its sound.
I think not of time that is flying.
How short is the hoar I hare won,
How near is this living to dying.
How the shadow still follows the sun ;
Th-re is naught upon enth. no desire.
Worth a thought, though 'twere had by a sign
i love uiee: i iota wee: bnn i igher
Thy spirit, thy kisses, to mine!
Lost and Found.
1 was a voting doctor, not overbur
dened with practice, when I sat half-
dozing in uiy surgerv one Milling
August afternoon, and wu roused by a
bustle in the street and a cry, "Here's
a doctor; ring the bell !"
By the time the ring was answered I
u as wide awake and had my profes
sional expression on. Two men came
in and one held in his arms a limp,
enseless figure, a boy about three
years old, covered w ith the blood flow
ing from a gash in his head. I took the
little fellow in my own arms and car
ried him to the sofa, w hile the men
brought me water and seemed deeply
interested in all my movements.
A broken arm and the deep cut on
the head kept me busy some time, but
at last my little patient was made as
comfortable as possible and was moan
ing with recovering consciousness.
'Have you far to carry him ?" I asked
of one of the men.
"euoniown nun, was the an
swer. "He was a-runuing across the
street and a horse kicked him over. Jim,
here, ' indicating his companion, "he
picked him up, and I come along to
help find a doctor, 'cause Jim can't
read."
"Xeetln't a shoved that in !" growled
Jim. turning red. poor little chap.
!iiw he groans !
I w ill give him something to quiet
him. presently," I said, "and will send
u ord to the station-house if his name
i not on his clothes."
l lie men departed, and I lilted my
charge once more, and went up stairs
to my mother's room, over the surgery.
It did not take uianv minutes to en
list her sympathies, and we undressed
the child and put him in her wide bed,
hoping to find some mark upon his
clothing. There was none, and when
I saw this I spoke frankly, "Mother,
there is just one chance for the little
fellow's life, and that is perfect quiet.
He will have fever, probably be dell
rions, and to carry him to a hospital,
or even to his own home, may be fatal.
1 will send word to the station house,
and then " '
"You know I will nurse him. John,
in r mother said. "If his mother comes
he mnst do as she thinks best; but,
until she does come, leave him to me."
I wrote a description of the child's
long brown curls and brown eves, of
the delicate suit of clothes in which he
coming to my motner, and lea the
ladies alone. When 1 returned, after
some five minutes' absence, I was
truck by the change in their faces,
The younger one was pale as ashes, and
the elder one had a set, hard look of de
termination, as If nerved bv some sud
den resolution.
l let! the way to my mother's bed
room, where Freddie was in a profound
slumber. The younger ladv shrank
back in the shadow of the bed curtains
but the mother advanced and bent over
the child.
i nere was a moment of profound
ouence; inen in a hard voice, the old
lady said : "I am very sorry to have put
you io so much trouble. Dr. Morrill
This is not the child we lost."
A heavy fall startled us, and I turned
to see the young stranger senseless on
the floor. Her mother spoke quickly,
J ne disappointment is too much for
her. We so hoped to find my grand
son."
I .11.1 ... 1 r... ....
uiu in repiy. inenciirious rav
ings of the child were still ringing in
my ears as he pleaded w ith the harsh
grandmother and aunt. I did not be
lieve the old lady's statement, but, hav
ing no proof to the contrary, was forced
to accept it.
Ing after my visitors had departed.
the beautiful blonde still trembling and
white, mother and I talked of their
strange conduct.
"it is evident thev wish to denv the
child," I said.
i am glad of it," mother replied.
"We will keep him John. He shall
1
nave a grandma to love, not one to
fear."
.- me summer and early autumn
wore away, and Freddie was dear to us
as if he had claim of kinship. His rare
beauty, ina precocious intellect and his
loving heart had completed the fascina
tlon commenced by our pitv for his
suffering, w eakness and loneliness. He
called us "Grandma" and "Uncle
John," and clung to us with the most
affectionate caresses.
We tried in vain, from bis childish
prattle, to gain some clue to his parent
age or relatives. He told us his papa
had gone "far, far off," and mamma
had "gone to papa ;" so we concluded
he was an orphan, and I often heard
mother telling him of the licautiful
heaven where his parents waited for
their little boy.
Of his grandmother and Aunt Lucy
lie spoke with shrinking fear, and
seemed to have an equal dread of Susan,
whom we judged to be the nurse
Susan was talking to a tall man, he
told us, who boxed his ears and told
him to go home, when, trying to escape
he ran under the horse's hoofs and was
hurt.
Being blessed with ample means,
mother and I had quite decided to for
mally adopt pretty Freddie when he
had been a little longer unclaimed
our house. The convalescence of the
child requiring fresh air without too
much exercise, I made a habit of takin
him with me in my daily drive to visit
my patients
Dennis, my coachman, w as very fond
of Freddie, and very careful; so I was
not afraid to leave my little charge with
him while I was indoors, and he was
very happy chatting with the good'
tiatured Irishman, and waiting my
coining.
It was early in Xovember. and
mother had dressed Freddie for the
first time in a jaunty suit of velvet.
with a dainty velvet cap over his brown
curls, w hen one morning I sent him
was dressed, and sent it to the station- out with jnnis until I was readv to
start. Looking out, I saw him stand
ing on the pavement, giving Xat, my
horse, a long carrot he had procured in
the kitchen, while Iennis stood near.
guarding the curly head from any mis
chief.
I was making my final preparation
for departure, when I heard a piercing
scream under my w indow, and Dennis
saying, "By jahers, she's fainted, the
crather!"
While Freddie cried, "Mamma
pretty mamma!"
I ran out hastily, to see an odd tab
leau. Dennis was supporting in his
strong arms a slender figure in deep
mourning, half leaning on the shafts.
while Freddie clung to her skirts, sob
bing, "Mamma mamma
A few passers-by stood near making
various suggestions, and Tat looked
gravely over Dennis's shoulder, as if
he could sav a great deal if he had the
inclination.
"Bring her in, Dennis," I said.
"I'll do that same, sur," was the re
ply, as Dennis lifted the little figure,
like a feather-w eight, and, crossing the
pavement, came into the surgery. 1
house. Xocall being made in three days.
I advertised him for a week, and still he
was not claimed. It was very strange,
for the child's pure, delicate skin and
dainty clothing seemed to mark him as
the child of wealth
But w hile lie lay unknown, my little
patient was .truggling hard for life
asrainst fever and injuries. He wasde-
lirious fr m..y days, calling pitifully
lor "Mamma pretty mamma!" beg
vino- her not go awav. and making our
heart ache by often crying, "Oh, Aunt
Lucy, don't beat Freddie; Freddie will
lie good!"' or, "Grandma, grandm
don't don't !" in cries of extreme ter
ror. Mother would get so excited,
w ith indignation over those cries that I
the child had won a fond place in
her warm heart.
'He has been ill-treated. John, the
t.retrv d.-irlin?!" she would say. "I
hone "the cruel people who could hurt
Mich a baby w ill never find him again
She would rock hi in in her own
motherly arm, would spend sleepless
nights watching beside him. petting
fnnclliiir him till he seemed even
in his delirium to know her love, and
would nestle up to her for protection
shut out the curious people who fol-
against the phantoms of his own fevered lowed, and Freddie clung fast to the
imagination. I black dress, never ceasing nis ioua
The second w eek of his stay with us I cries of "Oh, mamma ! It is my mamma
w as closing, and Freddie had regained I come home to Freddie. Mamma -pretty
his reason, and was on the road to re- mamma
covery, w hen one morning a carriage The sound rang through the house,
dahed'up to my door, and two ladies reaching my mother's ears, as she sat
alighted in her room She came hurrying down
Thr wore rustling silks of the latest the stairs, and entered the surgery just
,.d were evidentlv mother as In nis deposited his burden in an
-.i .t-.irrhtpr. The younger lady was
very beautiful, a perfect blonde, ami
- .
dressed in exquisite taste
"Dr. Morrill?" m,
ladv.
"We called in answer toan advertise
ment regarding a child, my grandson.
You will probably think it strange we
have not been here before, but we were
obliged to leave town the day before he
was lost, and have just returned.
nurse w ho had him in charge ran away,
and w hile we supposed him safe at
home, he has been lying in hospital,
perhaps dying."
"We were nearly distracted on our
return, said the young latly, "w hen we
missed our darling; but an inquiry at
the station-house sent us here. The
officer also showed us your advertise
ment, n here is our dear cniid .
"He is here," I answered,
arm chair. Comprehending the situa
tion at a glance, mother tenderly re
moved the crepe veil and bonnet, loosen-
juired the cider ing a shower of brown curls round a
marble-wliite lace, sun insruMUK.
"You see, sur," said Dennis, "Master
Freddie had just given the horse the
last of the carrot, and was running up
and dow n, w hen the poor crather threw
iid her veil, gave one screech and would
The have fallen to the ground, if the shafts
and I hadn't a-cotched her atween us.
Do vou think, sur, it's his mother ?
At that moment the stranger oiiened
a pair of large eyes, as brown and son
... 1 mlim.iirAil In a
as r readie s o u, """ " -
"Freddie! Did I see my
faint voice:
liny?"
J
Then her eves fell Pn the child,
and In a moment she was on her knees
before him, clasping him to tier nean,
..,i, kissing him. and sobbing uii mu
" I . . . . . .! I n-asnhliired
nr mother's. care, and. I am hapnv to broke out crymS, - r
J ..'-.' ' i....meniv "professional expression
liur nmn. n-011 r 1 - j
An until
tnent crossed
but the elder one
mm, doctor J I ii ..i ti.o mAthcr in an Instant,
I asked permission to announce their I i q'" -
'. "... . . ,! i. 1 1 ehr force of will.
aistakabie iook 01 uisappomi- i"j . ,,, rrwl.
sedthefaceVof my visitors. . "Cnie, n"f 'JCt
die has been very in,
so much excitement.
said,
'Can
we see
and she rose, still holding the child's
band In her own.
"It Is my boy," she said, looking
into tny face.
"es," said the little fellow, de
cidedly, "r course it is. My own
pretty mamma, come from heaven.'
She reeled back at the innocent words.
and would have fallen had I not caught
ner and put her once more in the arm
chair.
"Come from heaven !" she repeated,
with ashy lips and gasping breath
They told me he was dead, my boy,
my Freddie that he was run over and
killed. The nurse saw him fall under
the horse's feet."
"But, you gee, he w as not killed,
mother," said a gentle tone, "but is
well and strong again."
And then, motioning me to keep
silent, mother told the w idow of the
child's injuries and recoverv, of his
winning ways and our love for him.
And you kept him and nursed him !"
she said, kissing mother's hands. "Oh,
what can I do for you to prove my
gratitude? Freddie, my boy, how you
must love the kind ladv!"
les," assented Freddie, "that's
grandma and this is uncle John," and
I was tlragged forward."
"I cannot understand it at all," the
mother said. "iid no one know he
was here my mother-in-law T Will
you let me tell you," she added, look
ing at mother and myself, "how mv
boy was lost?"
"If yon will drink this first." I said
giving her a quieting beverage.
Mie obeved at on, and, taking ofl
Freddie's cap, lifted him to her lap
while she told her story. When we
saw the two fair faces so close together,
any lingering doubt we might have had
of the stranger's claim vanished at
once. Even in parent and child tbe
resemblance between the woman and
ner noy was wonderful. The same
brown hair and eyes, the same delicate
features and complexion, the same
hildlike expression, marked both coun
tenances. Even to the pallid, wasted
look of reeent suffering the resemblance
was perfect.
I must tell you first who I am," our
visitor said. "I am the widow of Col
onel West, who died of cholera in Liver-
pooi oiuv two weeks ago. lie was
aken ill in July, and I was telegraphed
to come to him. We had parted." she
added, turning to mother, "because his
business had called him to Liverpool,
and he was afraid to have Freddie and
me go there on account of the cholera
But when 1 heard he was ill I went to
him at once, leaving my boy with my
husband's mother and sister. I knew
they were not very fond of him, but I
had no choice. I dare not take him to
Liverpool with the cholera raging
there, and I had nowhere else to leave
him. I found my husband very ill, but
he was recovering, when he had a re
lapse. He rallied from that and took
cold, I think, or over-fatigued himself,
bringing on a second relapse that proved
fatal. During all his illness I heard
onlv twice of Freddie once that he
was well, once that he had been killed
in the sjreet. I came home only two
days ago, and they would tell mc noth
ing of where he was buried nothing
but the hare fact of his death. I I
oh, do not blame me ! I was on my way
to the river to end it all when I met
Freddie."
Mother looked at mc and whispered
"The grandmother who beat Fceildie
has driven her mad. Let her stiv with
me while you try to find out something
about her."
"But I have no right to force myself
into her private affairs," I said.
"She is Freddie's mother. That gives
vou a right."
It w ould be tedious to tell in detail
all the long conversation that followed
but, authorized by Mrs. West, I called
upon her husband's lawyer, and there
heard her story.
I think," the lawyer said, confiden
tially, "that the Wests are the proudest
people I ever knew proud of their
family, their money and their beauty
Carroll West was the only son, Lucy
the only daughter, when the old man
died. He left a considerable fortune,
but Carroll has Increased his share of
it to immense wealth. His mother was
very desirous of having him make i
great match, and proportionately furl
ous wheu he married a little dark-eyed
seamstress of no family in particular.
and working for a living."
I thought of the exquisite face, the
low, tender voice of Freddie's mamma,
and mentally applauded Carroll schoice,
'Carroll," continued the lawyer,
had sufficient good sense to keep his
own establishment until ne went into a
heavy cotton speculation that called
him to Liverpool at the height of the
holera. Then be left his wife and
child under his mother's care, and be
fore be went made his will. Xow,
doctor, said the lawyer, speaking very
lowly and with marked emphasis.
that will leave half his fortune to his
wife, half to his chilli, but. in case of
the death of the child, the half that Is
is goes to Mrs. West and her daugh
ter Lucy. If the mother dies, all goes
to the child, to revert again to Hie
Wests, if he dies without heirs. Do
you seer
I did see. I saw again the hard, de
termined face leaning over the sleep-
ng child, denying him, the weaker
ooian sancti'iiing the deceit, out law
ns senseless in the room. I under
stood now the disappointment that had
reeted the tidings that the child was
neither dead nor dying, but recovering.
It was all clear to me now, but I shud
dered as I recalled the mother's face
when she had contemplated suicide
rather than bear her widowed, child
loss lot.
We could never tell whether the un
natural grandmother and aunt would
have risked a legal investigation. The
recognition of mother and child was
complete, and the clothing we had care
fully preserved was fully identified.
Mrs". West did not return to her mother-in-law.
For some weeks she was my
mother's guest and my patient, being
prostrated with low, nervous fever,
and then she took the house next to
our own, her own claim and Freddie's
loiarron nest s property being un
disputed.
We were warm friends for twoyears.
and Mrs. West, senior, with the beauti
ful blonde, were occasional visitors at
the widow's house; but when the violet
and white took the place of crape and
bombazine, I ventured to ask Atlelaide
West if a second love could comfort her
for the one she had lost, and my mother
became Freddie's grandmother in truth,
when his "pretty mamma, became iv
wife.
Mrs. West is dead, and Lucy married
to a titled Italian, who admired her
blonde beauty, but, unlike many of his
compatriots, finds the lovely lady fully
able to take care of her own interests,
and guard her money against his too
profuse expenditure.
Other children call me pajia, and Ad
elaide mamma, but I do not think I
give any of them a warmer or truer
love than I feel for brown-eyed Fred
die, w ho was "Lost antl Found."
Oa the Top of Ararat.
Taking Comfort. any rational measure of legislation by
The dream of mortals is of a time which it could be diminished; but if
coming when cares shall cease to Infest, ne of them bestirred himself too activ
anxieties to oppress, every wish to be MT in the matter he would find all hi
gratified, and they shall take "solid ffairsin some mysterious fashion grow
comfort." Many waste all their lives out of joint. Authors anil journalist
in the vain pursuit of tbisdream. which "re 8lil1 'ess in a portion to cope with
like the w ill-o'-the-wisp, leads them a the evil, for the press censors systemat
sad chise over boz and fen and morass. kaIIy refuse to pass writings in whic
eluding them to the last. A few t,MS prevalency of drunkenness is taken
thoughtful souls arrive seasonably at ,or grantctl.
the w ise conclusion that not in this Before the abolition of the monopolies
world will the time ever come when. landowner might set up a distillery
without any dregs of bitterness, the on nU M,a,e b,,t ne was compelled to
chalice pressed to our lips willbe full of M11 ,h6 produce to the vodki-farmers
only comfort. We must take the bitter "nd t,,es speculators might build
and the sweet as we so along. public house on his land against his
Contentment is not of an outward '"X'ut, though he was entitled to n
irrowth. Its root snriiw from tl.Prr lne "P01 n receive a lair rent. A
D . M 0 j
The Loudon Spftator, shaking of the
recent successful ascension of Mount
Ararat by Mr. Bryce, says :
"air. iiryce nas given to tne world a
wonderful word-picture of that amazing
andawfid spectacle, of that 'landscae
which is now what it was before man
crept forth on the earth, the mountains
which stand about the valleys as they
stood when the volcanic fires that piled
them up were long ago extinguished ;'
but he could not tell us what were his
thoughts, his feelings there, what the
awe and yearning that came over him
n that tremendous solitude, where
Xature sits enthroned, serenely ca!m,
and speaks to her children only In
the storm and earthquake that level
their dwellings in the dust.'
"His vision ranged over the vast ex
panses within whose bounds are the
chain of the Caucasus, dimly made out,
but Kazbek, Elbruz, and the mountains
of Daghestan visible, with the line of
the Caspian Sea uHn the horizon ; to
the north, the huge extinct volcano of
Ala Goz, whose three peaks enclose
snow-patched crater, the dim plain of
Erivan. with the silver river windin
through it: westward, the Tauru
range; and northwest, the upper valley
of the Araxes, to be triced as far as
Ani, the ancient capital of the A mien
ian kingdom ; the great Russian fort
ress of Alexandropol, and the hi
wnere tvars stands peaceful enoug
w hen the brave climber looked otitupon
this wonderful spectacle.
"While it was growing upon him
not indeed in magnificence, but in com
prehensibility, 'while the eye was still
unsatisfied with gazing,' the niist-ur-
tadi dropped, enfolded him and shut
him up alone with the awful mountai
top. 'The awe that fell upon me,' he
says, 'with thesense of utter loneliness.
made time pass unnoticed, and I might
have lingered long in a sort of dream
had not the piercing cold that thrilled
through every limb recalled me to
sense of the risks delay might involve
Only four hours of daylight remained
the thick mist was added danger, the
ice axe marks were his only guide, for
the compass is useless on a vnlcanie
mountain like Araret, with iron in the
rocks. The descent was made in safety,
but by the time Mr. Bryce came in
sight of the spot, yet far off, where his
friend had halted, 'the sun had got be
hind the south-western ridge of the
mountain, and his gigantic shadow ha'
fallen across the great Arsxes plain be
low; while the red mountain of Media
far to the southeast, still glowed redder
than ever, then turned Jiwiftly to
splendid purple in the dying light.'
"At 6 o'clock he reached the bivouac
and rejoined his friend, who must have
looked with strange feelings into eyes
which had looked upon such wondrous
sights since sunrise. Three days later
Mr. Brvee was at the Armenian mon
astery of Etchmiadzin, near the north
ern foot of Ararat, and was presented
to the archimandrite who rules the
house. 'This Englishman,' said the
Armenian gentleman who was acting a
mterpretor. 'says he has ascended to
the top of Massis.' (Ararat). The ven
erable man smiled sweetly, and replied
with gentle decisiveness, 'That cannot
be. Xo one has ever been there. It is
impossible. "
depths of the soul, and are nourished
as well by rain as by sunshine, by sor
row as by joy. When once one has re
solved within himself to take life as it
is and make the best of it, then he may,
even in tribulation, take comfort,
though the majority of people do not
prefer to take it in that form.
The delishts of life, like pleasant
weather through the year, are scattered
all along the way, and unless we enjoy
them as soon as they come, the opor-
tunity once past never returns
It is all very well to piovislefora
rainy day, but the man is very foolish
who allows himself to be soaked by
drenching rains that he may save his
umbrella for some possibl future storms.
present, the trade being free, licences
to distil and sell are conferred by gov
eminent, and almost every landow ner
of consequence has one. Princ Wis-
koff might get one if he pleased, and
more than one thought of so doing, but
he has been deferred for want of capital
to compete w ith his intimate enemy and
neighbor. Prince Runoff, w ho has a dis
tillery in full swing, and flood the
whole district with its produce. The
Prince's chief agents are the priests,
who in the farming days w ere allowed
a regular percentage on the drink sold
in tneir parishes, but who now receive
a lump sum, nominally as an Easter
gift, but on the tacit understanding that
they are to push the sale of voilki bv
Pleasure-taking is not nearly as much every neans in their pow er. The pious
provided foramongourearnest, intense, men ,n not K the lengih of urging
energetic American people as It should ,ne,r parishioners to get drunk, but
be. We live altogether too much in multiply the Church feasts whereon
the future, too little In the present, revelry is the custom. They affirm that
We live too poor that we may die rich, stimulants are good for the health, be-
We get all ready to be happy, and when
we are quite ready, infirmity or disease
or death steps In. and the chance to
lake comfort in this short life is gone
If we could only be content to seize up-
cause of the cold climate, and they
never reprove a peasant whose habitual
intemiierance is uotorious. The Prince's
land agent, the tax-collector's, the con
scrlption officers, all join in promoting
the little pleasures that lie just outside the consumption of vodki by transacting
J I .i.: l : . it . . i
A RoBuntie Japanese Left-rail.
The romantic origin of the Awa fam
ily is related in the Tokio Timt. The
story is a familiar one to the Japanese,
and connects the first daimio of the
house w ith the career of the famous
Hidoyoshi. That eminent warrior and
ruler of the sixteenth century, the only
man in the annals of Japan who ever
rose from a plebian station to the posi
tion of Ruler of the Empire, was a p?u
ner and a vagrant in his youth. While
wandering an unprotected child in hi.-
native province ho was accustomed to
sleep at night in the fields or by the
roadside. On one occasion, according
to the popular chronicle, lie lodged
himself upon a bridge in Okasaka, and
was roughly awakened by a kick from
a powerful and well-armed man, who
demanded his name. "My name is
Sarnmatsu," he said, "and this is the
highway. You have no right to disturb
me. The road is mine as much as
yours. M ho are you?" "I am Koroku,"
said the other. "I know Koroko, of
Owari," retorted Sarumatsii (such was
was Taiko's name in childhood), "for I
come from Owari myself. He is a rob
ber, and I w ill not stir for him." It is
related that Koroku, who was one of
the most notorious highwaymen of his
time, instead of resenting the lad's au
dacity, was amused at his spirit and
took him under his protection, and in
many ways befriended him, in return
for which, when he attained the
supreme executive control, he made the
former desperado adaimio, and endowed
him with the province of Awa. The
young nobleman, Ilachisuka, now in
Loudon, is his lineal descendant. .
Utk-a, N. Y., is making an effort to
estiblisb an art gallery.
and often within our daily pathway.
they would make a large sum total at
the end of the three-score and ten
Far too many of us scoru pleasures that
are cheap and near and within our
grasp, and complain because we cannot
have such as are costly and remote and
Inaccessible. But if we only magnify
the little things that make life pleasant
ss we tlo those that make it unpleasant.
the cup of our joys would continually
overflow. We complain of cloud and
storm, but do wc rejoice in the sun
shine and fair weather? We grieve at
the coldness of a friend, but do we val
ue the fidelity of those who remain true?
We count the hours w hen sickness pros
trates us. but how many days of health
pass utterly unnoticed and without
thanksgiving? We mourn passionate
ly for the dead, while we neglect the
living whom to-morrow we may weep
as dead. It is well for us to heed the
savings of the wise man, "There is
nothing better than that a man should
rejoice in his own works; for that is
his jiortion ; for who shall bring him
to see what shall be after him?"
King Vcxlki. Thi I niTrrtal Prevalence
of Intemperance In KuMia.
An English resident in Odessa writes :
One morning a soft-spoken policeman,
in a gray tocoat, calls to say that our
coachman, who vanished overnight, is
lying at the station under a charge of
assault committed while inebriated. Is
it our pleasure that he should be made
to act as public scavenger for three days
in the Drunk (Jang? We have a pri
vate idea that to sweep the streets would
tlo ouristvoschik no harm, but the point
is reallr this shall w e bribe him out of
his scrajie, or by declining to do so stir
up the police to prefer a charge which
may keep hi m in prison, not for days,
but months? We prtidiice three rou
bles, reflecting that we can deduct them
from Iran Ivanowitch's wages, antl by
and-by Ivan turns up, sober and thank
ful, to explain that he would have
never been arrested at all if the police
had not felt sure that his master would
buy him off. This is so true that the
man w ill lie sacred in policemen's eyes
for perhain three months to come. Let
in stagger about as rowdily as he
pleases, be quarrelsome anil insolent,
the police will take no notice of him till
the time has arrived when they may de
cently claim three more roubles. As
nlluential persons, such as great no
blemen, bishops, diplomatic and con
sular agents, cannot be called upon for
black mail, their servants enjoy full
iceuseasto intoxication, so do petty
civil servants and mutuary officers in
their ow n iersous, for a policeman who
meddled w ith them might find himself
n trouble. But all non-official people
whose servants exceed sobriety, or who
do so themselves, must bribe or take the
consequences, which are unpleasant.
A person may also be severely pun
shed for not getting drunk, as a certain
Polish schoolmaster whom we met one
day disconsolately wielding a besom on
the quays in company of a dozen ko
peckless rogues who are lielng made ex
ample of because they have no friends,
The crime of our schoolmaster was that
he lifted up his voice in his school and
in tea-shops against King Vodki, and
tried to inveigle some university stu
dents into taking a temperance pledge.
He was privately warned that he hail
better hold his peace, but he went on,
and the result was that one evening as
he was walking home somebody bum
ped against him; he protested; two po
licemen forthwith started up, hauled
im off, charged him with being drunk
and disorderly, and the next day he
was sentenced to sweep the streets for
their business at the village dram-shop.
with glasses before them ; and even the
doctor, who lives by the Prince's pat
ronage, prescribes vodki for every
imaginable ailment.
The inducements to drink in the
towns are not less than in the country
When the coachman, Ivan Ivanowitch
goes out for a stroll among the fine
streets of Odessa he is lured into the tea-
shops by the loud music of barrel-or
gans, and voilki is served him with his
tea as a matter of course. If he drives
his master to a party he has no sooner
drawn up his trap under the shed in
the host's yard, than the servants invite
hiin into a low er room and give him as
much spirit as he will drink ; if he goes
to the corn-chandler's for outs, to the
veterinary surgeon about his horse's
legs, to the harness-maker's or coach-
maker's the preface to all business is
vodki; antl when he sets out to visit
his kinsmen upon holidays, vodki greets
him upon every threshold. It is the
same with the dvornik when he ascends
to the different flats of the house to col
lect rent or carry letters; vodki is
offered him before he has had time to
state his business; and under these hos
pitable circumstances the wonder is
not that the man should occasionally
exceed sobriety, but that he should -
often lie sober. But in Russia a sober
servant means errrjiti escijiirmli one
who only gets drunk upon the festivals
of the church. i
Woman who TCoaldnt Tattle.
Mrs. Goode and Mrs. Meller are next
door neighbors on Danbury street
and there Is a frequent interchange of
calls between them, but no evil results
therefrom, because both aie excellent
women.
Mrs. Goode called on Mrs. Meller the
other morning to speak to her about
some emptings which acted as if they
wtre not going to rise properly. Mrs,
Meller hastened back with Mrs. Goode
to look after them. After the matter
had been discussed with the gravity
demanded by tbe importance of the
subject, Mrs. Good said :
Did you hear that story about the
Kansoms?
Yes; It was awful, wasn't It? Who
told vou ?"
Mrs. Liebig."
She told me, too. I think that
woman might be better engaged than
n telling stories about people." Mrs.
Meller spoke w ith some warmth.
"I should say as much," returned
Mrs. Goode. 44 If there is anything 1
dispise it is tattling. I don't see any
thing Christian about it. I abominate
it myself. If there was more charity
n this world it would be better for all
of us."
I know It," added Mrs. Meller;
but people won't be charitable. They
will talk and talk and talk. I don't
uppose that Mrs. Liebig is without a
story about somebody a single day.
She has got a fearf ul tongue, and she
don't care who she wags it against. 1
think she had better look at borne."
"If she did she'd have to give up her
care of her neighbors, for she'd have
her hands full of her own. But that's
the way with that class. There's MrsM
Hook, you know. Her tongue is always
pitching into someb'jdy, and it was
only n!ht before latt that my man saw
her John carried home dead drunk."
"Why, Mrs. Goode! you don't ssy
Hlrd of Paradine.
Mr. Wallace has remarked that the
birds of Xew Guinea present a larger
proportion of brilliantly plumaged se-
cies than those of any other part of the
world. To this result the birds of Para
dise largely contribute. Of this family
twenty-four sjtecies are know n, all con
fined to the Papuan Islands, with i
single exception, a Minwrlin, which
has extended its range to Xorth Aus
tralia, and which is without the char
acteristic piumage of the true paradi
birds. W hether for singularity or
beauty of plumage the birds of paradise
are without rivals in tbe bird-world.
Most of them have suiicrb tufts of
feathers issuing not from the wings,
but from each side of the body, forming
sometimes wavy, silky plumes of con
siderable thickness sometimes fans
which spread on each side of the breast.
sometimes shields or long trams be
hind the wings; while the cenlral tail
feathers are often produced to a great
length, elongated into wires, twisted
into fantastic shapes, or terminated by
lustrous spangles, and all adorned with
the most brilliant metallic tints. In
the sub-family Epiuutehiiuz instead of
tufts from the sides of the body, the ac
cessory plumes spring from the head,
the back, or the shoulders, while in the
species that strays into Xorth Australia
these eculiaritiesare absent. There is
scarcely a hue among the colors of na
ture which is not found in the endless
variety of the painting of the paradise
birds; not only the lustrous metallic
of the humming-bird, but yellow s, reds,
blues, and greens of every degree of in
tensity, l et these fantastic freaks of
coloration antl feathering are confined
to the males; the females are all
clad in the most sober browns, and are
the most unattractive of birds. Doubt
less this provision of nature is intended
as a protection from observation during
the labors of the nestling season.
Strange notions formerly prevailed
among the vulgar as to the birds of para
dise. As until recently no European
had been able to observe them in life,
all our specimens were supplied by the
natives, who always cut off the legs
from the skins, on which account they
three days sentence which unfortu- w ere reputed to be without feet, w hence
nately does not involve the social anni- the name of the best known species,
lation which it would in other coun- lApmln. Peculiar and strange as are
tries. The fact is that in Russia you these creatures, yet there can be n
ust not advocate temperance princi- doubt that their nearest allies in nature
pies; the vested interests in the drink are a family marked by an extreme
trade are too many and strong. Xobody uniformity and sombreness of plumage,
forces vou to drink yourself. The Ras- and by the absence of any difference of
kolniks, or dissenters, who are the most coloration in the sexes the crow tribe,
respectable class of the Russian com- between which and the starlings the
munity and number ten million souls, paradise birds are naturally placed.
are in general abstainers, but they, like Good Word.
others, mnst not overtly trr to make
proselytes. There are many most en- . A,oft' " th? tnroue of GoJ' and pot
Lh.on.Mi wi. h.t .nH .wio,. ,b. .... Wo. ? footprints of a trampling
. " . , . multitude, are the sacred rules or right,
tlonal vice, who try to check It among whicn no majorities can displace or
tneir own servants, wno would support overturn. CAar(j svntmer,
" Indeed. I do.'.'
" Carried home drunk!" repeated tbe
shocked Mrs Meller.
Yes, carried home drunk. And
Goode savs it's not an uncommon atlair
either."
" Well, I declare, If I ever thought
that. I always believed John was a
model bov, I suppose he gets it from
is father."
"His father? ' Why t did her husband
drink?"
"Drink! Didn't you know that?
But I forgot he died before you came
here."
Well, I declare!" ejaculated Mrs.
Goode, " That's news to me."
Oh, yes, he was a drinker. He
kept full of rum two thirds of the time.
In fact," here Mrs Meller lowered her
voice, " there's good reason to believe
that he died in a drunken tit."
"Heavens!" gasped the shocked
listener, while her eyes sparkled.
Yes, Joe Hook died in a drunken
tit if ever there was one. But don't
peak of it, for the world."
Oh, I shan't say anything about it.
You know well enough that I ain't one
of the tattling kind," promptly answer
ed Mrs. Goode " But who would have
thought it. Well, well, well! If I
ait't completely stumped. I don't see
how she she can bear to sail around in
the style she does with that awful
memory on her."
" Oh, she thinks people don't know
it. And now, you say, her boy is going
the same was. Do you know, Mrs.
Goode," said Mrs. Meller, impressively,
" that I believe these slanderers have a
judgment sent upon them?"
"Believe it?" exclaimed Mrs. Goode
vigorously, ' I taote It. Dan'mry AVfii.
and all beings, created or uncreated,
mortal or immortal, are liable to the
wrath or this terrible being, who seems
to have been a god after Calvin's own
heart. Siva, the first person of the
Hindoo triad, was driven into madness
by Sani, and, decked with living ser
pents and human bone, danced with
demons amid graves. Vishnu was tied
to a rice morttr by shepherdesses, for
having at Sani's instigation, stolen
butter and ghee. Subramania was
changed ioto a Vengai tree by the same
power, while paying his addresses to a
Kurava damsel. Vignesw ara, when an
infant, had his head bnrned up by the
evil glances of Sani a legend recalling
the malocchio, or evil eye, of the Ital
ians, which Pius IX. is believed to
possess. 1 he most noted instance of the
persistent malice of Sani is the theme
of a splendid episode of the Maba
Bharata the adventures of Xala and
Dimayauti. Resenting the preference
shown by the latter for the former, Sani
first incited Xala to gamble away bis
kingdom, and then turned the pair
penniless and forlorn into the desert,
where be brought on them a series of
misfortunes, the recital of which strikes
the reader with horror. It would be
difficnlt to find a parallel tale Id any
other literature, containing so much
misery and terror, with such conjujta
fidelity and such unbending fortitude.
There Is a temple dedicated to Suit at
Kutchanur, in the south we-urn part of
the Madura district. Like all edifices
of this nature, it is divided into the
three portions of outer apsrtment, holy
place, and cella or mnctum tancVjrum.
The image of Su,i is mounted on a
gigantic crow. His ministers are
Brahman priests, and his mlnistrators
resemble those of orher Uralimanical
pagados, with the exception that no
Dasis, or vessels are at ached to the
temples of Saturn. A great festival of
three dnys iinration is held, commenc
ing on the IS h of Adi each year. In
honor of the misogynist god; on which
contrary to, the usual cu-tom, all the
worshippers are feasted at the expense
of the temple, although the oOerlngs
made far ex -eed the amount of the ex
penditure. Sheep, poultry, rice, cam
phor, plantains arid artificial flowers
made of gold and silver are offered.
The animals are brought alive, and are
sold by auction by tiie priests on the
third day or the feast. lhe special
peculiarity of this rite is that all the
worshippers earnestly supplicate not
the presence but the absence of the god
and beseech him never to visit their
homes or to turn tbe evil light of his
countenance upon tl.em. "all Mull
Onz'lte.
ASaa ltamies liiviu fr V rnnie.
There is a nice lutie public tqiiare
which lies on the water side of Bay
street, where are the court-houses.
The worehip of Saturn In Southern India.
The malevolent power of the god Sani
the Hindoo Saturn, Is an essential part
of the Hindoo faith. The sacred writ
ings aliouud with instances of bis im
placable hatred to mankind. We have
various sources of information as to the
character ascribed to this deity, the
accounts drawn from which, though
now ditlering much In detail, seem to
denote a common origin. In Greek
mythology, Saturn is the son of heaven
and earth, a deposed ruler of the gods.
According to the view of Ptolemy and
the astrological writers, he is the
supremest or highest of the planets,
placed between Jupiter and tbe firma
ment, and governor of tbe airy tripli-
city." ben joined by an evil aspect
to the acendant, he causes sickness.
family affliction, accidents, falls and
bruises. The mii.d becomes dull and
heavy und?r his influence; the body
sutlers lingering diseases, coughs, colds,
phlegmatic complaints, and low fevers.
When 111 dignified he is envious covet-
i.us, jealous and mistrustful, timorous,
sordid, dissembling, sluggish, suspicious
stubborn, a contemner ol women, a liar.
malicious, murmuring, nevercontented
nd ever repining. This cheerful char
acter is not inconsistent with the my
thological accounts of either branch of
lhe Aryan race. The use among our
selves of tbe adjective saturnine indi
cates a sullen and gloomy disposition.
The Grecian Saturn mutilated his
father and devoured his children. But
the Hindoo Saturn delights in acts of
wanton cruelty and mischWf, pursues
his victim with the ferocity and relent.
less of a bloodhound, and seldom quits
his prey until the utmost wretchedness
has been attained. It is very remarka
ble, however, that the power of Sani is
not supposed to extend to the depriva
tion of life. In this there is a remarka
ble resemblance to the Satan of the
Bjok of Job. Sani oppresses his victims
for a longer or shorter period, but never
longer than seven years and a half,
which Is the maximum period of the
duration of his malevolence, according
to tbe Hindoos. According to Ptolemy
his three periods are thirty, forty -three
and a half, and fifty-seven years; and
his greatest term, referring to States,
buildings, and matters of a permanent
nature, is 485 years, It Is useless to
attempt any escape from misfortune so
long as Sani is against us. His power
extend over tbe heavens, the earth,
tbe sea, and the regions below tbe earth,
houses of Assembly, Bank, and other
similar places of resort. Whenever we
would go on a pleasant morning, after
noon or evening to this stair, to sit by
the stone boat-stairs, or to stand on the
sea-wall, and view the lovely water
with its changing hues of green, its
yachts, its ships, antl all Its busy smaller
craft, and sniff with delight the cool
salt breeze that blows so gayly over the
narrow back of Hog Island, there would
certainly come running to us two. three
or a dozen little blacK boys with the en
treaty : "Please, boss, gives us a small
dive. If I happened to have any change
and wished to see some funny work in
the water, I put my hand in my pocket,
and instantly every little black boy
jerked off his shirt. It is no trouble for
the negro chilJren to undress in Xas
sau. The very little ones wear only a
small shirt and a str.iw hat. . Some
times there Is not much mu-lin in this
shirt, but they are always particular to
have it come down low enough to cover
the breast-bone. If I find a penny, I
toss it Into the water, and instantly
eveiy darkey boy, clad in scanty trow
sers, plunges in after It. Sometimes a
spry little fellow catches tbs coin be
fore it reaches the bottom, and it is
never long before some fellow comes up
with the money in his mouth. Some
times when a coin Is not readily found.
it is curious to look down through the
clear water and see the young rascals
moving their legs and arms about down
at the bottom like a lot of enormous
brown frogs. Scrihner.
hu perh via lltr.
Superficiality is tne leading features
of the age, the characteristic that runs
through all society, and all grades of
society. If we have any men amongst
us who are thorough, they are an ex
ception, and appear odd and out of place
among their compeers. Tnere never
was an age when Information was scat
tered about so freely, when every kind
of know ledge was brought within men's
reach, and yet how few real books have
the last fifty years produced. All effort
seems to be merely to popularize and
exhibit knowledge in a run and read
form. This is not the way scholars ued
to work, and it has produced a school
very different from the old race. Litera
ture has become, so to speak, machine
made. Books aie published by th ton,
and it is wonderful how little original
after permi-ates the great mass. The
patient student, whose one or two
volumes were the monument and record
of bis life, gets no sympathy in an age
of veneer and French polish. Every
man, said Switt, should hope to leave a
sou behind him, should plant a tree,
and should write a book. But In these
days every young latly of average ability
has written her book and exhibited
what she calls ber views, and what
proves to be her inexperience. It Is
pleasant, of course, totbink that where
there are so many huudreds-ol writers
there must be many thousands of
readers. Publishers are, after all, com
mercial men, aud carry on their busi
ness on trade, not on philanthropic,
principles. If the book are printed,
they are sold, and we tike comfort to
ourselves that the age'we live in is an
ae of readers. On the other hand, if
what Goethe says be true, that the
world's wealth consists of Its original
men, then we must admit the world we
live in to be not in a very wealthy eon
dition.
4