. c.
. "
U. F. SCIIWEIER, ;
THE OOTSTITXrnOI-THE TJJIOI-AID TEE EJK)CIME3T OP THE LAVS.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXXII.
M1TFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA. WEDNESDAY, MARCH 13, 1878.
NO. 11.
CONQUERED.
I eing of night, of a winiry nigbt.
Wlw-n the wintry wind war sighing,
Tben the air as cold aud the frost was bold.
And t:.e auownakee wild were flying.
"Twm a dismal nicht O a dread I ul night!
Not etarin the heavens eeemed eh.nini.
For the sir ws cold end the froet was bold,
And the watchdog eadly whining.
And I thought of the dare that Lad paeaed
away.
Of the Limits that were ret before me;
And I turned mine eyes to the f-r-off okies.
Ad J I knew that my God was o'er me;
And I wept as I ne'er bad wept before
O what a night for weeping!
Tor he tir was cold, and the Storm-King bold
On bis riery steed went sweeping.
And be laughed, and he said, a he onward
epel.
"O mine is a voice cf thunder,
With a tongue of fire do I strike my lyre.
Do I ring my rong of wonder.
I ride on the wave, sod I dance on the grave.
Wi,h a niiht all things defying!"
Wn-n s voice 1 h-ar, now far, now near;
Lu-t, list to the Storm-King dyiug."
Acd I turned mne eves with a g'ad aorpr so
O what a face shone o'er me !
Co suowy winzs now it sweetly sings
The eons of a hope before me.
And I turned mine eyes with a glad surpris-
Teas an angel's voioe had spoken;
And the Storm-King bowei his mighty head.
For his mighty heart was broken.
At Last.
"he Is a queer craft, truly, senor,
and, That Is more, she lias at least one
bit of queer history attached to her."
We were standing on the Custom
ouse quy at Port Mahon he, swar
thy, hnuduie, eager-eyed and nervous
of speech, a typical representative of
the ragged, ease-loviug, idleness-curbed
rabble which throngs every city of
he South of Euro, and has sent its
stragglers even into the army of busy
workers w hich populates the Balearic
Islands.
The subject of his comment, an old
brig w ith high bow and toweriug poop,
elaborate w ilh quaint carvings.to which
some tarni.-hed remnant of its ancient
gilding clung;, rode easily at anchor
amid a fleet of other smaller but simi
larly abandoned craft iu the neglectml
comer of the harbor to which all such
marine veterans were relegated until
some enterprising speculator undertook
to break them up.
-What is the history?" I asked.
"The senor would like to hear it?"
"I would, indeed."
My new friend deliberately drew a
leaf of tobacco from his pocket, rolled
U into a cigar, w hich he lighted from
nine, blew a cloud ol pungent smoke
out iu the direction of the brig, and.
seating himself on one of the stone
inooring-posts, with his eyes fixed upon
the vessel, said :
"Then you shall."
This is his story as closely as I can
recollect it, word for word :
Fifteen years ago two people who
oved one .mother more than well lived
at the farmhouse of the Finca Suberney
in the Barranco (valley) de Algan
dar. One w as a girl of the farm,a creature
of a beauty as pure and sweet as our
summer sky ; and a spirit as loving aud
wayward as the wind that blows from
the orange gardens of Alayor.
The other, a lad of twenty, half sail
or, half hiisbandman.bnt all true lover,
had been anchored in the valley by the
cable of his heart, and in her eyes for
gotten to long for the free air and the
ealt spray.
They were man and wife, of but a
few months standing man and wife,
who went to labor, in the lime groves
and orange orchards side by side, and
to whom, even with its weary work
and common fare, the valley was a
Paradise.
In the third month of their marriage
a stranger appeared in the valley.
He w as an Englishman, a traveler
for pleasure.whose idle lounge brought
him to the farm. The place pleased
him, the jeopli , as everywhere in the
1 "lands, were hospitable, and proud of
the presence of a guest; so be re
mained. Day? w ore to weeks, weeks became
months, and still he lingered. To-day
It was an excursion among the shep
herds of the desolate heights, that hem
the valley in; to-morrow a sturdy
climb up the Monte del Tow, with Its
wind-worn convent ruins; again, a
U.ns ride through fields of golden grain
and gardens of olives, fruit groves and
fertile farms. Whatever the amuse
ment was lie followed it up earnestly,
as his countrymen always do.
At the end of his second month's
stay one of these excursions brought
him down the mountain side after
nightfall, with a wild gale blowing
from the north, sweeping over the bare
hills with a bitter breath.
As he rode iu the darkness, his atten
tion w as attracted by a w oman's shriek.
It pierced the night, and the gale.sharp
and clear, full of w ild appeals for aid,
and pushing tow ard It without hesita
tion, he found himself before one of
those high, pyramidal structures of
loose stones, in which the Balearic
shepherds shelter their sheep. .
A fire was burning under the lee of
jhis stall, and by its light he saw a wo
mana girl, rather struggling. In the
arms of a burly, skin-clad ruflian.while
two others looked on with savage
laughs.
To ride one of these down, fell the
other to the earth, and w ith a fierce
cut of his w hip across the face compel
the third to release his prey, was the
work of as little time as it takes to tell
it, and before the shepherds had recov
ered from their stupefaction, the crea
tor of it had cantered out of reach of
the volley of stones they sent after
them, clasping the rescued girl to his
breast.
Her story was soon told. She was
the young bride of the farm, on her
way home from another hacienda, had
been stopped by the half-savage shep
herds, as he had seen, so, riding and
talking, they came to the door of the
house where he was an houored guest
and she a drudge.
Great as the social difference between
them was, her gratitude aud his admi
ration bridged it over. They met often,
he always loftily kind, lavish, on his
return from an occasional visit to town
with trifling gifts; she ever humbly
proud of bis notice, truly grateful for
his magnificence.
The husband saw this. too. and saw
it with pride. Poor fool 1 bethought
that the valley, where men honored
women as their own mothers, wives
anu sisters, was the w orld.
At last the guest departed. Xext
Jay a peddler from Mercadel passed
through the valley. It was afterward
recollected that he held some speech
w ith her w hile exhibiting his wares to
the people of the farm.
Many other things w ere recollected,
too, w hen, next night, her place at the
table in the kitchen was vacant. When
the country all about was scoured onlv
to discover, two days later, that a stran
ger and a country-girl had met in the
market-place of Mercadel,and had gone
together to Port Mahon.
Thither the husband followed them,
mad with outraged love for her aud
deadly hatred for her destroyer.
He found them not. They had gone
in the yacht which had brought the
traveler to the island, and w hich hail
lain waiting his pleasure in the harlor.
Whither? To France some said. To
France he therefore went, by the first
vessel that sailed.
It w ould not profit to tell of the long,
fruitless search ; to toll how, following
them from place to place, always too
late, he traversed all the Mediterra
nean coast, until one day, hearing of
him and that he was now traveling
alone he knew that the inevitable had
come to pass, and that she had been
cast aside for a fresher face, a newer
love.
Still searching, he found her at last.
Found her in a slam, surrounded by
thieves, by vagrants, by women who
were only women in name, dead, w ith
a breathing babe on her rigid heart.
He took the child, and returning with
it to his native place. put it among those
who would care for it, and once more
turned his restless face towards his
goal. He carried a keen knife, and
had a use for it sworn over her sacred
grave.
It was dreary waiting; and some
times his heart failed him. The knife
blade rubbed so often to kill the rust,
was becoming thin.
It was becoming sharper, though,
aud be smiled each time he felt its con
stantly keener-growing edge.
"It will do its work all the better,"
he thought. "It w ill do it all the more
surely, sw iftly and fatally."
Sometimes, however, a fear would
beset him Might he not die ? The very
roving life his pursuit led him exposed
him to perils w hich might balk his pur
pose. "If I should die before I meet him !"
he thought. "My God ! If that should
be!"
And at this thonght his blood would
turn to ice, and a strange horror come
over him, a horror that would se. his
brain whirling, full of mad devils, that
had all one single, mocking face, and
seemed to ject at him and taunt him
with defeat defeat !
Iuoneof those despairing fits a let
ter reached him from what had been
his home. It told him that the child
her child was IU, and besought him to
return at once.
With a curse upon the fortune that
interrupted his purpose, even for a few
days, he set about it to obey the letter
nevertheless.
He was in Palermo. The old brig
yonder lay there, bound for Majorca,
and he shipped on her.
On the night of the third day out,
they came upon a boat, drifting, and in
it a fainting man the last survivor of a
pleasnre-yacht foundered in a gale two
days before.
He was taken on board, revived and
restored, and next day appeared on
deck. The husband saw him, and his
heart gave a great leap.
The end, long sought by many labo
rious ways through deadly peril, toil,
trouble, bitter want, but always with
undeviating faith, had come at last.
He and her murderer stood face to
face!
His hand went at once to the knife in
his bosom, but touched the priest's let- j
ters and fell again.
He must be cautious. He must not
create any barrier to his seeing the sick
little one among the Majorcan Hills.
His work could be done secretly and
surely on some one of the days of the
voyage yet to come.
Several of these days passed without
bringing the opportunity.
At last it arrived. -
One night the traveler and the cap
tain sat late together over their wine.
Titer were deep drinkers both, and
the cabin lamp saw many a bumper
emptied before the carousers separated.
The man at the wheel, looking down
through the open cabin hatch, saw
them rise at last, and heard the En
glishman speak, pressing his temples
between his hands :
"I have a headache," he said, "I will
go on deck for a breath of w hat little
fresh air there is." ' - '
It was hot; a breathless, heavy sum
mer night, oppressive with the intense
warmth of a coining storm ; but the
helmsman, as he felt for a knife iu his
bosom, all the furnaces of hell could
not have brought such a fieaee gust of
flaming Joy as turned his blood to lire,
and flashed a red mist in his eager eyes
when a figure stepped upon the deck.
At last ! at Inst !
"A close, hot night, my man," said
the Englishman, in his easy, careless
way, as he lounged slowly to the taff
rail. "The sort of night to remind one
of the . tortures the damned undergo
below."
The brig gave a lurch to leeward, as
the sea twisted her unmanned rudder
A bright blade flashed readily in the
lirhtof the binnacle; one figure only
stood where two had been. looking
with blazing eyes Into the black water,
where a circle of sharp ripples fringed
with phosphorescent fire, widened in
lines of pallid flame and vanished.
There had been a single deep groan,
and a figure had plunged past tbecabiu
window; a figure whose heart w
cleft by a keen blade whose edge was
worn so thin that it bad been snapped
off, leaving only the handle in the exe
cutioner's hand.
At the same instant a star, the single
one risible in the murky heavens, had
fallen in a swift sweep of light.
Xext day it was known that the tra
veler, so lately snatched lrom death
upon it, had fallen overboard in a
drunkeu fit, and been swallowed by the
sea.
"And the man? The child ?" I asked,
when my story-teller drew a long breath
wiped the perspiration from his drawn
brow with the back of his baud, and
tossed his finished cigar into the water,
"Are they alive?"
"Faithless irfre mo," said a voice
behind me, aud a slender, brown-skin
ned, free-limbed girl of thirteen, bare
headed, bare-footed, and clad in the
picturesque peasant's dress of the coun
try, stepped past me and smote my
friend lightly on the face with a melon
leaf. "Is this your promise? Pardon
me, senor, but you know not how false
he is. He pledged me faithfully to take
me to the theatre in the plaza to-day,
aud here I find him, as always, staring
his eyes out at that wretched old ship
yonder. What can there be about it
that he feasts his eyes upon it so, like a
poor woman praying at her shrine?"
'It Ua shrine! a mouument!" said
Mie story-teller, his eyes gleaming for
a moment with savage joy, which
softened to such a look of love as one
rarely sees when he brushed the girl's
heavy hair back from her forehead and
kissed her.
"Senor, you ask whether the 'man
and the child of my story are alive.
They are."
And hand in hand with the girl he
went up the blazing sunlit quay, and
vanished iu the busy streets.
"Sergeant Mary.'
There died recently in Belevicw Hos
pital, Xew York, a woman named Mary
O'Keefe. She was known to the crimi
nal authorities for years by the alias of
'Sergeant Mary." She has had quite
remarkable history, which she fre
quently related to her jailers while
on the island. She said that w lien quite
young, she formed the acquaintance of
a young man to whom she was engaged
to be married. The day for the u ed
ding was set, but before the happy event
occurred, her lover was arrested for
highway robbery, found guilty and
sentenced to imprisonment for twenty
years. This so effected her that site re
solved to remain single. Some time
afterward she became very intimate
with another young woman w ho had
likewise met with many crosses In love
and had similarly resolved. Becoming
intimate, they determined to live to
gether ever after, and agreed that one
should put on man's apparel and that
they should lire as man and wife in
another part of the city where they
were not known. They drew lots, and
by it Mary was made the man. She
fonnd male attire and assumed a new
nxnie. For several rears these women
passed as man and wife, and would pos
sibly hare done so until Mary's death,
but for an unfortunate accident. While
on the street one day she met a former
friend, who recognized her, and thieat
ened to expose her if she did not return
home. Mary told her companion of the
discovery and they agreed to part.
She returned to her home, where she
lived for a short time, but as her parents
used to taunt her she again left home
and took to drinking. During the late
war she formed the acquaintance of a
soldier and set him druuk, after which
she stole his money and uniform. She
soon spent it and then went to one of
the military stations, and eulisted iu a
company of volunteers. One night
Mary got beastly drunk ana was ar
rested by the guard. While in her
drunken stupor she told her secret. The
captain of the guard was called; she
was arraigned before him, and, on being
closely questioned, admitted the
truth. She was dismissed from the
ranks, not, however, before she had
been given the name of Sergeant Mary.
A Niagara Incident.
In the s'utnmer of 1816, three men
living about three miles above the
Falls, saw a bear swimming in the
river. Thinking be would be a capital
prize, they started for him in a large,
substantial log canoe, or "dug-out."
When they overtook him he seemed
quite obliged for their kind attention,
aud quietly putting his paws on the
side of the canoe, drew himself iuto it,
notwithstanding that they vehemently
belabored him with their paddles. As
he came in on one side, two of the men
went into the water on the other side.
The third, who may be railed Fisher,
could not swim, and naturally enough,
felt somew hat embarrassed. Much to
his relief the animal deliberately sat
down in the bow of the canoe facing
him. As the noise of the rapids and
roar of the falls reminded him that they
were ominously near Fisher resolved to
take advantage of the truce and pull
rigorously for the shore. Bet when
he began to paddle the bear began to
growl his objections enforcing them at
the same time with an ominous grin.
Fisher desisted for a while, but feeling
their constant and insidious approach
to the rapids, he tried again to use his
paddle. Bruin then raised his note of
disapprobation higher, and made a
motion as is he Intended to get down
and "go for7' him The man who swam
ashore, soon however reappeared in an
other canoe, with a loaded musket, shot
the bear, aud ended Fisher's terrible
suspense. - Bruin weighed over three
hundred pounds.
We know accurately only when we
know little; with knowledge doubt Increases.
The Greatest Gambling Contest on Record.
One of the most famous gambling
contests on record was the attempt, by
a rival organization, to break the Le
noir bank at Badeu-Baden. A most
graphic and vivid account of the affair
has been written by Michael Angelo
Titmarsh, who speaks of the three
brothers under the name of Lenoir. It
is as follows : "There came, at a time
w hen the chief Lenoir was at Paris, aud
the reins of government were in tho
hands of his younger brother. A com
pany of adventurers from Belgium,
with a capital of 300,000 francs, and an
infallible system for playing rovye-et-nnire,
and they boldly challenged the
bank of Lenoir, and sat down before
his croupiers, and defied them. They
called themselves in their pride, the
Contrebaiique de Xoirbnrg. They had
their croupiers and punters, even as Le
noir had his; they had their mulecue of
Xapoleons; they had their contreban
quist seal, and they began to play.
As when two mighty giants step out
of a host and engage the armies stand
still in expectation, and the puny pri
vates and commonality remain quiet
to witness the combat; so, it is said,
that when the contrebaiique arrived
aud ranged itself before the officers of
Lenoir rouleau to rouleau, banknote
to banknote, war for war, controluient
for controlment all the minor punters
and gamblers ceased their peddling
play, and looked on in silence round the
rerdent plain, where the great combat
was to be decided.
"Xot used to the vast operations of
war, like his elder brother, Lenoir, Jr.,
the Lieutenant telegraphed to his absent
child, the news ot the mighty enemy
who had come down on him, asked for
instructions and in the meanwhile met
the foeman like a man. The Contre
banque of Xorburg gallantly opened its
campaign. j
"The Lenoir bank was defeated, day
after day, In numerous savage encoun
ters. The tactics of the rontrebanquist
generals were Irresistible, aud they
marched onwards, terrible as the Mace
donian phalanx. Tuesday, a loss of
18,000 florins; Thursday, a loss of 40,
000 florins; night after night the young
Lenoir had to chronicle these disasters
in melancholy dispatches to his chief.
What was to be done? How was it to
end?
"Far away in Paris, the elder Lenoir
answered these appeals of bis brother,
by sending re-enforcements of money.
Chests of gold arrived for the bank.
The Trince of Xoirburg bade his be
leagured Lieutenant not to lose heart;
he, himself, never for a moment blench
ed iu the trying hour of danger.
The coutrcbauquists still went on
victorious. Rouleau after rouleau fell
fell iuto their possession. At last the
tiews came. The Emperor had joined
the grand army. Lenoir himself had
arrived from Paris, and was once more
among his people. The daily combat
continued; and still, the abominable
contribanquisls fought and conquered
Like Polyphemus, w ho only took one of
his prisoners out of the cave at a time,
and so ate them off at leisure, they con
tented themselves with winning so
much before dinner and so much before
supper, say 5,000 florins tor each meal
At last there came one day when the
contribanquisls had won their allotted
sum and were about to leave the tables
which ther had swept so often. But
pride and lust of gold had seized ujon
the heart of one of these vainglorious
chieftains, and he said, 'Do not let us
go yet; let us win 1,000 florins more.'
So they stayed, and bet the bank 1,000
florins. The Xoirburgcrs looked on and
trembled for their prince.
Some three hours after, a mighty
cheer was heard around the windows of
the palace; people rushed into each
other's arms; men, women and chil
dren cried and kissed each other.
Croupier, who never feel, who never
tremble, who never care whether black
wins or red loes, took snuff for joy;
and Lenoir, the dauntless, the invinci
ble Lenoir, wiped the drops of perspi
ration from his calm forehead, at he
threw the enemy's last rouleau into his
till. He had conquered."
"Stand and Deliver.
A writer in the Galveston Xews tells
of a recent adventure while traveling
in a stage-coach, in Texas, as follows:
On Saturdav morning, at one o'clock,
near Pegleg, I was startled from an in
different slumber in the stage-coach by
the clicking of a Winchester and by
voices lrom without hallooing to the dri
ver, "Turn into the brush, or I will
shoot the side of your face off; I will
not tell you again." At the same time
I saw two men with guns, one bearing
on the driver and the other pointed at
the opening of the coach. There were
two passengers beside myself in the
coach, Lieutenant Kir by, of the Tenth
infantry and a graduate from West
Point, assigned to duty at Fort McKar
vett; the other, Mr. Baronch, a drum
mer, from Xew Orleans. My pistol
was rolled up in my blankets, the drum
mer had no arms, but Lientenant Kirby
was well heeled. We had, from the
time we left the road until we were
topped in the brush time to consider
what we should do. The drummer and
myself concluded that we were net in
a condition to risk the fight. But the
Lieutenant insisted upon a fight, not on
account of the money he might lose,
but on account of his profession. : We
overruled him and were ready to sub
mit to the robbery when the coach stop
ped in the brush, two or three hundred
yards from the road. One at a time were
called and stepped forward, was. abbed,
and sent to the front of the horses, The
coach was then plundered of money,
jewelry and arms. Each one had hid
den a portion of his money and valua
bles while in the stage. I threw mine
iu the hay in the bottom of the coach,
the drnmmer tucked his away in the
top of the coach, and the Lieutenant
put his in his boot. Mine was found ;
the balance they did not get. The
drummer delivered them twenty dol
lars, the lieutenaut five dollars and I
twentv-five dollars. Ther also trot the
lieutenant's and the drummer's watch-'
es, which were left In the coach. While
the coach was being robbed we were all
guarded, a Winchester bearing on us.
The robbers the two we saw were
men of good address, and executed the
robbery skilfully. They attempted no
disguise, except the boss, w ho evidently
thought I knew him; to the others he
was unreserved. They talked among
themselves, from which we learned
that auother party was to rob the down
coach and that they were within sup
porting distance. When they com
menced cutting the mail bags opeu I
made an apjieal to them, stating that
they would hardly find any money in
registered letters going up the country.
They cut two, however, and then stop
ped, putting all the mail back. They
asked about the paymaster. A short
time after the lights of the down coach
came in view. They told us we could
get in the coach and not to make any
noise or strike a light, and if we did
they would fire on us. The down coach
tumbled along in a few minutes and we
got back on the road and came along.
Before we left the boss said : "You may
tell the Mayiiard people Dick Dublin
has come back to stay awhile." The
robbery would not net more than three
hundred dollars in money, arms and
jewelry. My first sensation was that
of a bad dream, which soon vanished
before a humiliating and outrageous
reality. I was struck with their cool
ness and audacity. One thing seemed
singular, they declined to touch us per
sonally, that is, to put hands on us in
any way. They frequently threatened
to kill us if they caught us in a lie, but
uever made any personal search. A
little less than a year ago the stage was
robbed on the very spot where w e were
stnpued. Then, and in this last, the in
tention was to rob the United States
paymaster. I was impressed with the
terrible earnestness with which they
acted, something like that displayed by
an executioner when he executes the
penalty of death. 1 understand they
did not rob the down stage. This is
strange. I can only account for it on
the theory that they found they would
not get anything but arms, with prob
ably some jewelry and a little money.
Old Mr. Watt's story.
"Did yon ever hear of my glove fight
with Yankee Sullivan?" asked old Mr.
Watts.
Old Mr. Watts is a tall, gray-haired
farmer of this neighborhood. I had
never beard the story, and told him so.
"Well," he began, "that must have
been more'u forty years ago. A big
yellow chap from Xew York used to
come up here once a week and give
lessons in boxing in the ballroom of the
Orange hotel, and a lot of us young
fellows went into it with a will. I got
to handle the gloves pretty well for a
country boy.
"Oue day I was down in Xew York,
hunting for a clothing 6tore, when I
met Mr. Theodore Fiske of Xewburgh.
He had heard of my handiness with my
fist, and he told me, if I would go
along with him, he would show me
some boxing that vas boxing. So, after
I had bought an overcoat, I went with
him. I don't remember where the
place was, but, when we got there,
there were about a dozen men sitting
around. One of them invited me to
put on the gloves with him. I didn't
want to. but he urged, and at last I said
I would. Mr. Fiske seemed nervous
about something, and said the man
wouldn't handle me roughly.
"The first round was a short one. I
found myself on my back in less'n no
time. I got up, shied aronnl for a
couple of minutes, and then, making a
sudden pass with my right, lifted the
Xew Yorker from the floor with a left
hander, under the ear. I wanted to
quit, but be didn't, and in the third
round I went down heavily. We toed
the mark again, and I got in another
left-hander, w hich left the Xew Yorker
sprawling on all fours. Then I pro
posed again to quit, but he said that
was no way to do; we should try the
filth ronnd, and see who was the better
man. I hit him twice in rapid succes
sion, ouce square on the nose, making
the blood fly in all directions. T'lat
satisfied him, and he withdrew to wash
himself.
"By this time there was a large crowd
in the room, aud everybody was shak
ing hands w ith me. By and by the
man 1 had been sparring with came
back, and he shook hauds with me, and
asked me to drink, but I wouldn't do
that; no rum for me. Then Mr. Fiske
Introduced him to me as Yankee Sulli
van. It took away my breath. Sullivan
tried to make a bargain with me to stay
with hiin, offering me $73 a month
good wages for those days and board,
but I said no. For weeks afterward I
got letters from him offering me every
indticemet to go to Xew York. But I
stuck to the farm."
Splendid Masonry.
The Immense stones used in the erec
tion of the pyramids of Egypt were ob
tained from the quarries in the Arabian
hills, and were carried to the river and
over a bridge of boats. They were then
brought forward by means of a cause
way, which of itself took ten years to
construct, and which is said to have
been a fine work, with its polished
stones and figures of animals engraved
upon them. One hundred thousand
men were employed at a time, and these
were relieved by the same number at
the end of three months.' A long time
was spent in the leveling off the rock
on which the edifice stands, and twenty
years for the erection of the pyramid
itself. The stones were raised step by
step by means of a machine made of
short pieces of wood, and, last of all,
commencing from the top, the stones
were cemented together with a layer of
cement not thicker than a piece of
paper, the strength of which is proved
by the age of these enormous memorials.
All that Is wise has been thought
already; we must try, however to think
it again.
The Last Montmorency.
Recently the last Mornmorency was
buried in Paris. He was the last of a
Hue which gave to France, six Consta
bles, twelve Marshals, four Admirals,
several Cordiuals, Grand-Masters. Am
bassadors, etc. The head of the house
of Montmorency bore the title of First
Baron of France, and the Barons were,
in 900, "Grand Feudatories" of the
Duchy of France. Oue Montmorency,
ill 1130, married a natural daughter of
Henry I., of England, and in 1141 the
widow of the French King, Louise le
Gros. Anthony Montmorency distin
guished himself at Bouvines in 1214,
and a third fought at Crecy in 1313.
Anne, the first Duke, was a great sol
dier, who, after reducing the army of
Charles V. by famine, was called the
French Fabius. Francis, who was the
fourth Marshal, died at the early age of
49, after having escaped, as if by a mir
acle, being massacred during the St.
Bartholomew. The fatherof the Mont
moreucy who had just died, had a
strange career. He was born In 1767.
He served against us in the American
War of Independence, and, like many
other French noblemen like Lafayette,
Rochatnbeau, de Xoailles, the La
meths, etc., he adopted the principles
of the Revolution. On the memorable
4th of August, 1798, he was one of the
great nobles who voted In favor of the
suppression of feudal rights, and in
June, the following year, he supported
a bill for the abolition of all titles of
nobility. He emigrated in 1792, but re
turned to France on the fall of
Robespierre, Xapoleon made him a
Count on the same dar that he made
FoucheaDuke. Under the Restoration
he became a Royalist once snore, and
was appointed, first, Aide-de-Camp to
the Compted Artois (afterward Charles
X.'.then Minister of Foreign Affairs,
and then Ambassador to the Congress
of Verona; in 1822 he was named Gov
ernor to the Due de Bordeaux (now
known as the Compte de Chambord);
in 1825 he was elected a member of the
Academr; and the year afterward he
closed his eventful life. The last Mont
morency took no part In politics, and
was merely known to a small circle of
friends.
Eleetrio Light,
The electric light has been steadily
gniuing in popularity until In the larger
European cities it is about to supersede
all other illuminants, having by actual
experiment proved cheaper and better
than anythluz else, and especially for
lighting streets and large public or pri
vate edifices, such as churches, theaters,
railroad depots aud manufactories. It
has the advantage of being uniuflainma
ble and hence there is no danger of its
setting anythinatire; no outlay in coal
is needed, and all expense for extensive
words aredispensed with ; its production
Is simply and perfectly inoffensive; no
noxious or noisome odors are gener
ated to poison the atmosphere, and the
quality of light rivals the snn in brilli
ancy. Ashead-Iight for ocean-steamers
or even river boats, it is invaluable,
shedding a flood of light in tTry
direction In the thickest weather. A
correspondent of the Loudon Globe states
that the cost of the electric light, in
cluding the running of a special steam
engine, is only twenty cents per hour,
for a light equal to three hundred and
fifty gas burners, which is about equal
to twelve ceuts per thousand feet for
gas. The exemption from danger of
this light has caused a reduction in
rates ot insurance wherever it has been
introduced.
Palestine.
The aqueducts to Jerusalem, from
Solomon's pools and the "upper level,"
conducting streams of water to the very
highest parts of Mt. Zion, are brokeu
down. The mountain sides and the
valleys are denuded of trees, and the
people plant no trees. The very wood
that I am using for fuel consists of the
roots of trees from near Hebron, planted
hundreds of years ago. The olive
groves are old, and do not produce so
abundantly as younger and more vigo
rous trees.
The roadways are broken up, and
where once were carriage roads are
now bridle paths for mules and horses
and donkeys. The people are living
upon the remains and the ruins of what
their fathers planted. Many of them
are living in the tombs and caves of
the earth. The tomb of St. James, be
yond the KMron. is a magnificent
structure. In it, I found, the other day
shiveriug in the cold, nine men aud
women and half a dozen kids. The
Silvern village, a little further down
the valiey, consists of dwellers in the
tombs.
The plateau of nearly level ground
north and west of Jerusalem, at the
head of these brooks, or water torrents
the Gihon, and the Kidron, here
called Jehosephat is covered with the
debris of the ruins of a former civiliza
tion! Tools now dry, contain broken
column, capitals, arches, architraves,
and curious mosaic work, sometimes
very beautiful, and scarcely excelled
anywhere, in any age of the world.
The Frank mountain, where Herod the
Great was buried, is now only a moun
tain. The magnificent structures of
former ages have fallen into decay. On
every hill top all over Judea, are the
remains of what were once splendid
towns and cities. Within sight of
Jerusalem, are the sites of five capitals
of states, now either deserted ruins or
miserable Mohammedan villages. The
walls of the ancient cities are broken
down, that ot Jerusalem only having
been rebuilt, its successive recoveries
showing its wonderful vitality. Jericho,
where Merod the Great died, is a pile of
rubbish sculptured stones lying pro
miscuously with the broken stones of
the once massive walls. I stood on the
ruins of Herod's palace close by the
fountain of Elisha, and gave, with
others, three cheers in honor of the
governor of Gilgal (new Jericho), a
Xubian as black as an ace of spades, a
major in the Turkish army and a good
officer, who had conducted us from
Gilgal thus far on our way towards
Jerusalem.
The Jordan valley is a waste, on both
sides of the river. It is one of the finest
tropical countries in the world. It has
numerous fountains and ways for irri
gation. All the waters of the Jordan
may be used for purposes of irrigation,
so great is the fall ; and the valley is
capable of sustaining five millions of
souls in comfort, and even in luxury.
There are, perhaps, two hundred and
fifty thousand in all Palestine.
Some of the ancient works of this
country still remain, because of their
Cyclopean architecture and substantial
character. Such are Solomon's pool
and the aqueducts which might easily
be repaired, and at small cost, compara
tively. Some of the tomb which re
main were constructed at euoruious
cost.
They were the works of princely
treasures. Such are the tombs of the
judges, fifty-five minutes walk north of
Jerusalem; the tombs of the kings
(probably the tomb of Queen Helena
and her family, converted to Judeaism
about A. D. 4tl), thirty-live miuntes
walk north of Jerusalem, aud the tombs
of the prophets, so called, oa the south
west side of Mt. Olivet, about half way
up the side of the mount.
The tombs of the judges are on the
south side of a road, or valley, whose
waters flow to the Mediterranean, and
they face Xobi Sam well and Rama to
the north, where the judges of Israel
lived, and judged Israel. They do not
properly belong to Jerusalem. The
tombs are evidently older than the
tombs of the kings, and the style of the
structure is different. I have visited
between twenty aud thirty of these
tombs on the Mediterranean side of the
mountain range, but there is one which,
on account of its elaborate structure
and rich sculpture, is called "The Tomb
of the Judges." It has rooms leading
into rooms, and stairways leading to
rooms below and under the rooms just
entered by low, narrow passages, and
in the sides of these rooms are crypts,
or niches, for the reception of the dead,
and places for the illuminating lamps
and smoke on the wails in all, as I
couuted sixty-one resting places for
the illustrious dead, of whom not a bone
nor a particle of dust remains. Some
of these tombs have swinging doors cut
out of the rock, and forming a part of
it, and others have rolling stones, with
grooves, in which the stones, cheese
shaped, may be rolled from side to side,
while by its own weight on the declin
ing plaue it is restored to its place at
the mouth of the sepulchre. There
have been various eras of Palestine
civilization that of the Pheuicians, of
the Jews, of the Romans, of the Sara
cens, and of the crusaders ; and of each
era some monuments remain to this
day, but for hundreds of years, since
the rule of the Turk, there has been no
improvement, but on the contrary, con
stant deterioration. The earth is cursed
for man's sake. The state of the country
follows that of the people and depends
upon it. The "upper 6tory" of the in
tellectual house, seems to be wanting.
Wedding Gifts.
In different countries different moles
exist. Pennv weddings in Scotland, of
which Wilkie gave a lively and accurate
idea in one of his domestic paintings,
are peculiar. Invited guests niakecon
ributions in money. One shilling is
the general tribute, and half a crown is
a princely offering. Out of the sum
thus collected the not very costly ex
penses of the feast w ere paid, ami the
surplus went toward buying the furni
ture. In the weddings of the poorer classes
of Ireland this levying contributions on
guests never takes place, for, however
poor Paddy may be, his pride revolts
from the appearance of poverty on such
an occasion. There Is a collection, how
ever, to raise a sum for liberally com
pensating the clerical gentleman wiio
"has tied the knot," and in the house
of a rich farmer this swells nptoa good
sum.
In Wales, among the small farmers
and traders, the custom prevails to this
day of "bidding," not sinele guests,
but whole families to a wedding. That
such an event Is to come off. both where
and when is duly advertised in the
local new spaper, with a request that all
persons, who in time past have been
similarly obliged in that manner, will
attend, bringing presents for the bride
and groom. Besides this, particular
and almost peremptory invitations, in
writing, are sent to each household on
whom the to-be-wedded folks may have
some especial claim for former generos
ity under like circumstances. Presents
of all sorts food, furniture, flour, fuel,
table and chamber linen, even sheep,
lambs, calves, goats, and ponies are
among the gifts.
In Germany there Is the "pay wed
ding," at which the bride receives her
guests with a ba-in before her, each
person depositing a jewel, silver spoon
or a piece of money, at the same time
apologizing for the donation being so
far below value, compared with the
damsel's deserts. In some parts of Ger
many the rule is that the expenses of
the marriage feast shall be met by each
guest paying for what he eats and
drinks just as if he were in a hotel,
but not at fair hotel prices. Thus the
entertainment sometimes extends over
several days, and the young couple
often realize a sum out of the profits
sufficient to start them fairly in life.
From one to three hundred guests are
often present throughout these festivi
ties.
Sometimes the flow of presents takes
a very different course. In Poland a
lady is not regarded as eligible for
double-blessedness until she has
wrought with her own hands cloth and
garments for each of her future lord's
friends (groomsmen) accompanying him
to the altar.
In Xorway the clergyman has to be
propitiated with two or three bladders
of mince-mcat, made by the hands of
the bride, and a bottle or two of brandy.
In that country most presents made on
wedding occasions take the tangible
form, of larder supplies at least among
the peasantry and artizana.
Madame RhodeUe's Ghost Story.
"My servant man, Pierrot," said the
old lady, "was hired to me with a little
villa that I occupied during a year that
I spent is. Italy. It was a mouldy old
place enough, and he was a quaint old
man. who looked as battered and weather-stained
as the statues that hid among
the vines and shrubbery in the garden ;
but I liked the seclusion of the spot,
and I liked Pierrot, too. He was an
Italian, but his motner was Swiss, aud
he was more faithful than Italian ser
vants are generally. He had a peculi
arly charming way of waiting, and saw
to the comfort of all the guests, at any
of the tiny parties I gave, in the most
wonderful manner. Above all, he had
a soft step and never slammed the door.
I considered him a treasure.
"If I had time I could tell you a thou
sand stories about Pierrot; but what
you want is to hear about my ghost, so
we will come at once to the day w hen I
had invited twelve friends to spend the
evening at the villa, and when Pierrot
came to me in the morning and asked
permission to go to Xaples to receive a
sum of money, which oue, who had bor
rowed of him, w as to pay him that day.
Madame,' he said, 'only for a few
hours;' but I listened to the request
with horror.
"'Pierrot, I said, I cannot bear to
refuse you, but what should I do were
you to be detained ; it is a long way to
Xaples, aud you kuow of my party to
night. I shall never forget, Madame,' he
replied. I shall return in time to pre
pare the salad and have all as it should
be.'
" 'Ob, I hope so, Pierrot,' I said.
" 'On ray honor, Madame,' said Pier
rot, 'on my faith; whatever happens I
will be here in time.
"So I let him go. I knew he would
return if it were possible. My only
doubt was the possibility.
"The day passed on. I took my mid
day lunch and siesta, and even w hen I
had had my dinner felt no anxiety about
Pierrot's return. But as it grew dusk,
and still the figure of the old man did
not enter at the gate, my heart sank
within me.
"Twenty times, at least, did I send to
the kitchen to inquire. Twenty times
I received the reply, 'Xot yet, Madame.'
At last, the truth became manifest. My
guests were arriving, and Pierrot was
not there. My party would be a fail
ure, with the only being who could
make a salad, or properly attend to tho
rooms, absent from the house. I gave
directions as best I could to my other
servants, and turned my attention to
the duties of the hoste-s. However, I
was in despair; so fancy my joy, when,
having postponed the act to the last
moment, I rang the bell for refresh
ments, to see the door open aud Pierrot
enter as usual, dressed in his old livery
and bearing his great tray. He looked
tired and pale. Evidently he had made
great exertions to be home in time, but
never did he wait more elegantly. His
light feet made no sound upon the car
pet, and he scarcely seemed to need
words to understand one's wishes. I
was delighted. I smiled upon Pierrot,
but he was too well bred to smile back
again.
"We had a great deal of music that
night and were quite late. As midnight
approached I called for more wice.
Pierrot entered almost before I had
summoned him. He was paler still,
and moved more slowly certainly he
was ill; but he gave every guest his
glass with his old time grace and then
stood quietly behind me awaiting fur
ther orders. But quiet a he was every
eye was turned upon him, even the mu
sician of the moment looked at hiiu as
he tuned his guitar. And suddenly,
my little cuckoo clock began to strike
the hour of twelve. As its notes sound
ed, Pierrot shot from behind my chair
and went w ith noiseless steps toward
the door. As the twelfth stroke died
away he was gone and the door had not.
opened.
"JIe passed through It,' cried one.
"'He sank into the floor,' cried an
other. "'Bah! we have all taken too much
wine,' said a third.
"As for me, I sat trembling in my
chair as the sound of a horse's feet was
heard w ithout, and a rider, who had
galloped furiously up to the villa, dis
mounted and struck some heavy blows
with his whip upon the door.
"I hastened forward. There stood
one of the armed Italian police.
"'Madame Rhodelle?' he said.
"I bowed.
'"I bring bad news,' said he. 'I shall,
I fear, greatly agitate you, Madame.
You had a sevaut, one Pierrot?'
'I hare oue, I said, thiukiug of Pier
rot's strange departure from oiw pres
ence. " 'Pardon,' said the the man, 'You
had one this morning. He is now uo
n-ore. To-day, in Xaples, he collected
a sum of money, rather large for a man
of his position to possess. He left the
city and w eut upon his homeward way.
He did not go far; a rascal followed
him; one who knew of the money. At
dusk he crept up behind hiin, subbed
him in the back, an j took his purse.'
" 'Poor Pierrot !' I cried, 'I kuow
now why he was so pale. He mu-t be
suffering '
" 'Xo, Madame,' said the man. 'He
suffers uo more. Since the hour of sun
set he has been lying dead in the hospi
tal. Before he died he cried out sud
denly : "Tell Madame I shall keep my
promise." Perhaps Madame under
stands' "I did. At least, I have always
thought so. There w ere thirteen of us
together. We all saw Pierrot. We all
kuow how be disap;eared. I am as
certain as I am of my own existence
that it was Pierrot's ghost who return
ed that night to wait upon us. But if
so, it never came again. Pierrot had
nothing on his conscience. He had
been faithful in the few things that
were riven to him. He could rest in
peace."
Then Madame Rhodelle ceased t lik
ing, and fanned herself. Xo one dared
to hint a doubt that the whole story
was true, although every oue of her
hearers doubted it.
.'4 .