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B. F. SCIIWEIER, 1 i i .i.'k'OU
THE COSSTITTITION-THE mHOS-AITD TEE EfTOBCEMEHT OP THE LAWS.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL.
.'VV
MIFFLIN1WX, JUNIATA COUNTY, PEXXA., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 187S.
NO. 3b
hmh hi
1
i
VV. 11KHM0LL-
A country road o'er hill and plain;
A rustic briJga. in, distance seen.
Spuming a stream whose silent flow ' -
Divides broad fields and meadows green.
A etill and cool September night,
jjt by a fid .-orbed harvest moon,
Wnose silver radiance, soft and white,
O er stream and bridge and hill is thrown.
lur carriage, drawn by sleepy steeds,
Siow down the hill and o'er the green.
Its course pursue, till near the bridge
we panne to Tiew tbe peaceful scene, " "
To tbe sweet maiden by my side,
A lover fond and true I've proved,
Bat, till this hoar, the prn lent fair
Has given no sign that I am loved.
Ah. eoftlv sighing, blushing warm.
She rexts. a dear load, on my breast ;
My arms enfold her slender form.
In close embrace, long, sweet and bleat.
We near the bridge our hearts beat high
With love's first, fondest, deepest bliss;
Jnst as we crocs the sounding planks
Our lips unite in oue fond kiss;
Our horses quickly turn the ridge,
lSeyoud our wheels mre swiftly roll.
And as she glauees toward the bri lge.
My maiden whispers, " taking toll ?"
Darling. I cry. " a joy like this
Repays whole months of toil and pain.
And hope and fear." Hbe. sm ling, says :
'-Then. love, let's cross the bridge again!"
Romance of a Wayside Inn.
on the outskirts of Tarry-town, on the
Hudson, there is an old-fashioned tav
ern with wide, low rooms, a squre
corridor, wherein the stairway makes
three turns; three fire-places, roomy
closets, inviting piazzas, all in admira
ble order well furnished, well cared
for, and Inst, out not least, a comfortable
looking landlord, who leads the way to
a pleasant sitting-room with an air thai
ecms to sav, "You city iolks can get
something here what is appetizing
broiled chicken, fresh vegetables and
ival cream."' It he thinks so he certain
ly keeps his promise, for his daily wm-mii
is excellent. This jolly landlord is
pleased to .-how his house to strangers,
ami delights in telling them the old
stories connected uilhit. which have
crown into legends, if they will only
listen. Throwing open the door at the
bead of the stairway he oses himself
with:
This is the Red Room. A sweet lady
from the West, who was lost in that
dreadful steamboat accident out there
two years ago, occupied this room for
weeks just before she died. She was
Switched with the scenery, the walks
and the drives about here, and never
tired of -isking questions about Wash
ington Irving hail he everleen in this
bouse? and when I told her he had a
thoi.sand times, and that when his fun
eral procession passed the door, all the
public school children were stationed on
either side of the road with wreaths and
flowers in their hands to do his memory
honor, the tears ran down her checks.
1 sent for some of tha ivy which grows
on yonder church walls, and gave it to
her to take home. You know that
Irving brought it from the home of Sir'
Walter Scott, Abbotsford. .Scotland.
Now this is the Blue Koom."
'What of this room? any romance?"
we aked. . . .
"Not exactly," says mine host! "A
bachelor comes here every summer on
his way, (he pretends) to Saratoga,
brings ins horses, and carriages and ser
vant. He always has had this room.
It was all stufl' that he just came here to
lie quiet. Why he was forever going
down the road to see Miss L , or else
sitting on the piazza in the morning to
see her drive by. My eyes! but she
was a stunner; and the way she handles
her ribbons and talks to those horses is
funny. I don't believe he'll come this
summer, for she got married last win
ter to an oh' widower, w ho took her off
to a country town iu New Jersey and
kept her there in real Blue Beard style
for three mouths, and then whisked
herawav to Euroe without lettingany
body know it. Xo, no, my bachelor of
the Blue Room won't come this summer,
bis butterfly is caught.
"And this is the Green Room?" said
we, as we passed into the next apart
ment adjoining. "What a gloomy
r'Km !"
"1 never come here," said the land
lord, ,'after dark, if I can help it and
I always put bridal couples here 'cause
they don't mind how gloomy it is," he
added, slyly. "There's a story about
the room. It's pretty long. Guess you
better make yourself comfortable, and
sit dowp while I tell it.
It's alKut twenty years ago last win
ter since the beginning of the circum
stances happened which makes this
room so gloomy to me. A lonely woman
died here, and she had a strange history.
I was sitting in the bar-room one awful
cold night until it was very late with
some cronies, and were telling stories
and drinking hot flip. Oh. how it
snowed! and the wind howled, and it
seemed as though Old Xick himself
was let loose till my comrades were
afraid to go home, and I said :
"Boys, let's keep it up till daylight."
"Just then there came a rap at the
hall door, very low at first, then louder.
We were all scared, and did not dare go
and see who was there. At last we
went in a body and carried a light, and
when we opened the door something
fell into tha hall, all covered with snow,
and a little child's cry came from the
bundle. I jinked the bundle tip
woman in her night-dress, bare-footed
with a cloak thrown over her shoulders
and OTer a baby. Great God. how we
looked at each othei when we saw that
woman's face, for it was the grandest
lady who lived about here, a beauty and
the boast of the country.. Her home
was more thau a mile away downby the
river. Oh, what could it all mean?
was she crazy? She looked at us all,
and then said to me : 'Let me have a
room, for I have come to stay. So I
brought her to this very room. My
women folks got up and made her as
comfortable as they could. She did not
"y, but moaned now and then for hours.
At last she told me how her husband
had always been cruel to her, and that
night had threatened her life, and slie
had fled in secrecy from him with her
little balm."
r"Iid she go back to him?" we in
quirftd.' , . . v.
"Oh.no. He came here, but she would
not see hint.' It made an anful scan
dal, w Inch his family and her own tried
to hush up. They all tried to coax her
away, and when she jiersisted in remain
ing they called her insane. That broke
her heart quite. She induced her phy
sician io say it would kill her to be re
moved, and so she stayed until daih,
only a few weeks after, released her
from all her 'misery She is buried not
tar from here. The little baby was a
girl six months old when she brought
her, and as lovely as an angel. She
kept the child until she died." And
the story-teller stopped.
"What of the husband?" was asked.
"Well, he pretended not to care about
her death, was terribly dissipated, hail
people all the time to visit him, gave
parlies, and lived a fast life. After
madame's death the child went back
to his house, but the little thing, very
strangely, seemed to dislike him, and
avoided him as she grew older. Two
or three years after he, too, died, leav
ing the baby in his sister's care. and. as
she was his only child, she inherited all
his estate, a large one.
.."What became of her? did she grow
up? is she living?"
"Yes, sue is alive now," said the
landlord, "but might better have per
ished with her mother in the snow,
both of them together, than to have
come here.
"Her history is a sad oue." he con
tinued, after a pause, "very sad. The
little Marie grew up into a beautiful
woman, surrounded with everything
that wealth can give, courted, petted,
and made selfish by the very loneliness
of her life; for half the time her aunt
was ill, or away, and her companions
were servants, who indulged her iu
everything."
"Did she know about her mother 'r"-
"Xot till she was sixteen, w hen some
body told herout of spite. She come fly
ing here and asked myw ifetotell her the
truth. So we H1; and she came to
this room and cried as though her heart
would break. Suddenly the old mansion
she owned was for sale, and Marie had
gone away out to the West somewhere
to visit a distant relative. Site said she
hater her father's memory, and would
never live again in a house where her
dear mother had been kicked and beaten,
and made to leave in the dead of a w in
ter's night,"
"And the old place was sold ?''
"Yes, and all its historical belong
ings, and the lands alnmt it."
"Then, what became of her?"
"You see her actions were so hurried,
and she wasodd driving, sailingaloue,
caring for none of the young people
about her, and when with them utterly
unobservant of their wishes haughty
and dreadfully cold, that it got whisper
ed about that she was a chip of the old
block kind of insane queer yet no
one reallx lielieved it. . Out West Marie
met a young man she fancied very much
but he was not her equal in birth or
fortune; in fact, he was poor. Her re
latives, fearing the result of hrracquain
tance with him. denied him the house,
am! finding that of no avail, by some
treacherx got her back Kast. Letters
were forged, and she thought he hat',
forgotten her. After a trip to Europe
and a season of gaiety in Xew Y'ork,
she avowed her intention of entering a
convent, but to the surprise anil delight
of her relatives became engaged to a
tine young fellow, and seemed quite
nappy. ,
" All would now- have gone well, save
for a demon ol mischief a maid who
was with the mother here when she
died, and had taken care of the child as
she grew up. This woman had an in
terest in the Western lover for some
reason had kept up a correspondence
with him and brought things to a head.
Marie weut to the theatre one night
w ith her young man, the one she as
engaged to, and was to see him the next
evening at home. The morning after,
this woman, I.iza, took a note up to her
young mistress' bed chamber and waited
for au answer. That note had a quick
effect. Marie ran down stairs. There
was the Western lover. A plan was
soon made between them."
"What did she do?"
"A verv strange thing," continued
the loquacious landlord. "She came to
this house and said she was to be married
hereand secretly. I talked and talked
to her; but no use at all. Then I
telegraphed to her aunt, who was South
for her health, without letting .Mane
know of it. Xo use. Where was the
Xew Y'ork lover? Liza lied to him.
and said her young mistress had gone
into a convent, and she actually wrot
notes as coming from the convent to her
relatives, announcing her (Marie's)
determination to stay, but would not
tell where."
And the Aunt?"
"Oh, she got here too late. They had
been married in my best parlor two
days before she came, and had gone
away on a bridal trip. It was a sad
enough wedding for a young heiress-
no bridesmaids, no satiusanu gewgaws.
But she w as beautiful, my snow bird,
as I call her, because she came in a
snow storm, you k.iow and he was a
manly fellow after all, and looked very
nroud of her as he led her to my best
carriage waiting at the door. Wife
came up here and cried after all was
over, and went and got somebody's
hoes out of that closet, wnere tney nan
always been since the little Marie's
departure. The young couple settled
in a very pretty house in the city pur
chased with the bride's money. Liza
had been pensioned off, for she mtgnt
make more trouble. A year passed.
and the young w ife clasped a baby of
her own to her bosom. Mne seemeo.
very happy, and to be devoted to her
husband and her little one.
A few weeks passed, and again It was
winter; again the "now was on the
oToniid. when we were startled one
evening by the arrival of Marie and her
baby. They bad come aione. er c c
were w ild and strange as she asked for
jhe Green Room. "Xo," I said, "it Is
occupied." "Well, then, some other
room." Almost immediately the hus
band arrived. He had traced her and
followed her in the next train.
"Was she crazy?"
"Yes crazed, and yet had such ration
al ways sometimes that it seemed as
though she was all right. She was
very ill, and the physicians said she
must be taken to an asylum. She
raved of her mother and talked of her
babe as though it was herself; that she
had been ill-treated, and was fleeing for
her life through the winter's night.
Oh, it was such a terrible time in this
old house. How I pitied her young
husband "
"And now?"
"Xow she is, indeed, insane perhaps
hopelessly so in an asylum near ."
And mine host's tale was ended.
Execution off French Women:
Sophie Gauthier had been found guilty
of a horrible crime; she had killed all
her children by means of pins, w hich
she stuck into their brain. The death
of this revolting criminal recalls a few
Interesting fact connected w ith tbeex
ecution of women iu France. Since
1840 nine women have been executed,
and they all met their death with firm
ness. Ten years ago a man and woman
were executed at C'hartres for having
murdered their parents. In those days
the guillotine was not thehorriblyneaj
and compact little instrument that it is
now there were some steps to ascend
before coming in contact with the ex
ecutioner. When the criminal couple
reached the foot of the scaffold the wo
man said, I should like to embrace
my husband before dying, l'ray untie
my hands; you can tie them again imme
diately afterward. This supreme w ish
was reluctantly granted for it wascon
trary to the regulations. Her hands
were no toouer free than she gathered
up all her strength, and gave her hus
band a ringing box ou the ear. Accord
to custom she was the first to sutler,
the extreme penality of the law.. Be
fore the man had recovered from the
stunning blow' she had dealt htm her
head had fallen into the saw dust.
Another woman, whocreated great sen
sation was Virginia Itezon, who had
murdered her husband and two chil
dren. She w as only twenty-five years
of age wonderfully beautiful, and be
longed to oue of the best families iu
France. She had not the slightest fear
of death, and the moment the sentence
was passed she sent a letter to the Eui-jH-ror,
begging there might lie no de
lay in carrying it out. Prison life and
the loss of her long black hair produced
a much more disagreeable impression
uiMJii this delicate woman than the sight
of the hideoiischopping block and knife
Many summary executions of women
took place when the regular troops en
tered l'aris during the insurrection. I
remember seeing one of the advanced
Republican ladies placed behind the
Great Xortheru Railway station. She
had just lieen taken with a recently
tired ritle in her hands and standing bv
the side of a dying sentry. " Iid you
shoot this man ?" inquired the officer,
pointing to the writhing body of the
sentry. " I did," was the replv. "ami
I am only sorry that I did not see you
before, as you were better worth the
trouble." Two minutes afterward she
was lying on her face with twelve
bullets in her body. Death had been
instantaneous; her victim, the soldier,
lived two hours after and expired in
horrible pain.
A Roywl Female Gambler.
Princess Souwarofl", during a recent
stay at Saxon les Haines, happened one
evening to have an extraordinary run
of bad luck while gambling. Her
neighbor, a retired tradesman, sympa
thized w ith her, and begged to be per
mitted to place his purse at her disposal.
She refused at first, but the desire to
continue to play was strong enough to
overcome all her scruples, and she
finally accepted, borrowing $2,000. The
money was punctually repaid, and the
lender, M. Ielagrange, was delighted
to find that the princess had conde
scended to make use of him, and that
she invariably spoke to him when he
met her in the Casino. He thought he
had acqnired the privilege of being
considered among the intimate friends
of tbe princess, and when she again
asked him for an advance of $24,000 he
complied with alacrity. This sum re
mained unpaid, and an arrangement
was made by which the lender was to
call on his fair debtor in Paris at a
stated time. The princess, on her re
turn, refused to receive as one of the
habitues of her receptions the retired
tradesman, who, vexed at the apparent
slight put upon him, began to clamor
for his money. He wrote to the Prin
cess Basilewsky at St. Petersburg,
computing of the treatment he had re
ceived from her daughter, and receiving
no reply he began an action against
Princess Souwarofl, who has been or
dered to pay at once under pain of seiz
ure. Ventilation.
Many persons complain of always
getting op tired In the morning. This
is very often due to defective ventila
tion of the bedroom, or from using an
undue amount of bed clothes and bed
ding. Feather beds are too soft and
yielding, and partially envelope the
sleeper, thus producing profuse pre
spiration. Tbe habit of lying too much
under blankets is also very pernicious
by reason of the carbonic acid exhaled
by the sleeper being respired. Again,
it is a common error to suppose that by
simply opening a window a little at tbe
top a room can be ventilated. People
forget that for proper ventilation there
must be an inlet and outlet for the air.
In bedrooms there is often neither, and
if there is a fireplace, it is generally
closed up. Again, it. la a .mistake to
suppose that foul air goes to the top of
a room. Certainly tbe heated air goes
to the top, but the chief impurity, the
carbonic acid,' fairs to tbe bottom.
There is nothing so effieacious in re
moving the lower strata of air as the
ordinary open fireplace, especially if
there It a fire burning.
- The Madman ot the Woods.
In the fall of 1S . just before our
winter logging campaign, vague ru
mors were afloat about a raving maniac,
escajied from some asylum, who, it was
said, had taken to the woods, and was
coinmittiiigdeprcdatioiison the farmers
He was described as a very large and
powerful man, armed with a huge
bludgeon, said to be larger than a three-
years' sapling, w ith which he had killed
several oxen, and deserately wounded
one man who had had the hardihood to
attack him.
The day liefore we started for the
logging-camp, w e were all startled by
the intelligence that a man answering
the description of the supposed myth
had been seen only ten miles distant,
and the morning of our start, a mes
senger from our next neighbor, three
miles away, summoned us to aid him
in the capture of this creature, who.
just at dusk, the evening before, had,
in full sight of one of his men, stolen a
sheep and rushed into the forest with
it, uttering wild yells.
A fierce mastiff had been set on him,
which , he instantly killed by a blow
from his heavy club, and entered thick
underbrush, into which no one dared
follow him. Here he uttered such
piercing shrieks as startled the bravest
among tbe men ho had started in pur
suit. Ah hough it caused a great disar
rangement of our plans, we responded
to the call, and twelve men, I among
them, started the next morning on
snowshoes (for the snow was two or
three feet deep) to the aid of our afflicted
neighlMir.
Arrived there we found everything
in confusion, for the madman had en
tered the stable during the absence of
the men at breakfast, and ridden off on
a horse at full speed up the road, which
had afterwards returned covered with
foam, and so thoroughly scared that
every slight noise caused him to cower
and tremble.
We all adjourned to the stable to
look at the horse, and then started in
the direction the "destroyer of our
peace" had taken. We each wore
snow-shoes, and carried a gun, though
we were strictly forbidden to use them
unless it became absolutely necessary
for on r own safety. A supply of rope
w as also taken, to be used in case of his
capture.
We had proceeded up the road for
half a mile or more, w hen we came to
au indentation in the soft snow h the
side of the road, where the maniac had
evidently been thrown from the hor.c.
A' rail fence near had been dragged
down and evidently hurled at the re
treating figure of the animal.
From this place we could easily fol
low the trail of the man, w ho had sunk
deep in the snow at every step, and en
tered the woods but a short distance
from the road.
Hither we eairerly followed, and very
shortly were painfully made aware of
the presence of the object of our search,
who iiad secreted himself behind a large
jiine stump. When the first man passed
him, he sprang upon him and bore him
into the snow. We all together dragged
him off, hut in vain tried to hold him
iktwu. He threw us all oil', and,
knocking two or three men down, dis
appeared into the thick forest.
The man whom he had so savagely
attacked was not seriously hurt, but we
all agreed that it would be useless to
follow the wild man. as we could not
effect his capture w ithout some of us
being seriously injured.
Wc accordingly returned home and
carried out the programme of the day,
and by three o'clock had arrivej at the
lumber camp.
Here everything went well for
awhile, and we were ju?t getting well
under way with our logging, when the
wild man again made his presence
known in an unexpected, and, as it
proved, fatal way. We had thought it
hardly possible that he might visit onr
camp, but as two or three weeks had
passed, and we .were eight or nine miles
from w here he had last been seen, we
had entirely given up the idea.
Our method of logging was to cut a
road from our timber to the nearest
creek, and haul the logs to the ice,
there to wait for the spring freshet.
The snow on the sides of these roads
often became six or eight feet high,
and it was then impossible to turn out
on either side, hence we had ' switches'
at regular intervals, where each empty
team waited till the loaded sled passed.
It was about lour o'clock, and already
becoming dusk, on Thursday of our
third week, that I was taking my last
load down to the ice. A short distance
behind came Jim 11 ay don with another
load. I was but a few rods from the
"switch" when I heard a terrible
scream of boisterous laughter.
The thought that it was the madman
instantly forced itself upon me, and
upon looking around I saw the six yoke
of oxen tearing madly down the road
towards me. (It was down grade.)
They were heavily-loaded, and atop the
logs stood the madman, plying the
whip and uttering such fearful yells as
fairly made mr blood run cold.
I immediately perceived that if I did
not get my load into the switch before
he passed, a terrible catastrophe would
be the result, and I therefore hurried
the oxen as much as possible; but des
pite my efforts I had only succeeded in
getting partly in when the twelve oxen
struck the end of the logs wiih a heavy
crash, killing the off-oxen of the two
middle teams instantly, and throwing
my oxen down.
The madman was thrown from the
sled, and struck my load on his back,
where he lay groaning heavily. The
oxen kept on their mad career, carry
ing everything with them, and ran on
to the ice, where the impetus of the
heavy load forced them over some of
the logs, when the "nigh for'a'd " ox
broke a leg. The remaining cattle tore
away from the sled, and dragged their
dead and wounded companions into the
woods, where we afterwards found
them.
When my oxen were thrown, I
slipped the bolt from the " evener," so
.that in case they should stampede the
sled would be safe. They ran a few-
yards and stopped, just as our. whole
party came up, out of breath, carrying
their weapon and inquiring for the
madman. I pointed to the top of the
load and one of the men climbed up and
found him dead. His back had been
broken.
I inquired for Jim, and was informed
that the madman had crept upon him as
he was walking by the side of his team,
and had killed him with a heavy bet-tie,
and thrown his body against a tree.
The parents of young Hayden were
wild with grief, and blamed us all se
verely.' He was their oldest son and
chief support.
We advertiser! the death of the maniac
in the nearest city papers, and a week
or ten davs afterward heard from his
relatives.
He had been a wealthy physician of
Xew Y'ork State, with a large practice,
but had. lost his reason through giving
a patient poison by mistake.
On hearing of Jim'sdeath the brother
of the maniac made the Hayduns a pres
ent of five thousand dollars. He also
paid for all the damage his brother had
done elsewhere.
After everything had been settled we
went back toour logging, and although
we were very successful, that winter
was the dark one of my life.
Two Ways of IHliir; Business.
Deacon II., of R., was in his wood lot
busily engaged in preparing a load for
market. On the other side of a low
fence bis neighbor, S., was also loading
for the same marker. S. paused in his
work and watched the deacon for a
while, and then exclaimed: 'Deacon,
you are a fool in bting so precise with
your load. You are altogether too par-
tlcular. What is the use of packing so
closely, rtji-cting so carefully every
small and crooked stick, and every one
which wants a single inch of the requir
ed length ? Look at my load ; it does not
contain nearly as much as yours,
though It will measure well, and will
sell as readily as yours, with a consid
erably larger profit.' The deacon simply
answered : 'You may do business in
your way ; I will do it in mine.'
They both drove to a neighboring
city and waited in the market place for
customers. S. was fortunate enough to
find a customer without much delay,
while many hours passed before the
deacon could disose of his load. Upon
his return late at night, his neighbor,
who bad bten at home a long while,
said to him: 'I said you were a fool,
and was 1 not right. 1 sold my wood
for the same price you did, and, besides
a larger profit, I have saved much time.'
The reply was, 'You may do business
in your way; I will do it in mine.'
Stvcral weeks passed. Deacon H.
anil his neighbor were agaiu with their
loaded teams iu the city, where they
had been many limes for a market for
their w ih.iI. The deacon was met by a
wealthy merchant of the city, who said
to him, 'Take your load at once to my
yard; you need not stop to have it
mea-ured; and do the same with every
load you bring, and 1 will gladly pay
your price.
That night deacon n. was early at
home. Late in the evening S. arrived
with his wood unsold, 'ilow was it,'
he said , 'that you found such a ready
sale to-day, while I could not dispose of
my wood at any price?'
'You do business in your way, and I
do it in mine. Who is tbe fool?' said the
deacon.
The Irrepressible Yankee.
A Xew Y'orker having business iu
the city lately, jumped aboard the train
at the Grand Central depot, and his
meditations continued undisturbed un
til after the cars passed Meriden, when
a long, drawn out Yankee entered and
seated himself by his side. The X'ew
York man was taciturn but the Meri
den man was not .
"Unpleasant day, sir," observed the
latter.
"Yes," replied the other.
"Stranger in these parts," continued
the Meriden man.
"Would like to be," laconically re
plied the other, looking neither to the
right nor to the left
"Perhaps like myself you may be go
ing to Hartford ?"
"Perhaps," responded the other,
yawning frightfully, and looking in
tently out of the car window.
"In that case, perhaps, you will put
up at tbe United States?"
"I may or I may not," answered hi
companion.
"Pardon me the liberty of the ques
tion, sir, may I ask if you are a bache
lor?" "Xo."
"Oh. married?"
"Xo, no."
"Sir, I beg your pardon ; I may have
unintentionally touched upon a pain
ful subject your black dress ought to
have checked my inquiries. I beg your
pardon, sir a widower?"
"Xo, no, no !"
"Xeither a bachelor, nor married
man, nor widower ! In heaven's name
then, s,ir, what can you be?"
"A divorced man, since you must
know!" exclaimed the stranger, ri
sing hastily and taking another seat.
A Dormant Wasp.
A West ni!l minister picked up a fro
zen waspon the pavement recently, and,
with a view of advancing the Interests
of science, he carried it into the house
and held it by the tail while he warmed
its ears over the lamp chimney. His
object was to see if wasps froze to death
or merely lay dormant during the win
ter. He is of the opinion that they
merely lie dormant, and thedormsntest
kind at that: and when they revive, he
says, the tail thaws out first, for while
this one's head, rizht over the lamp
chimney was so stiff and cold it could
not wink, its probe worked with snch
inconceivable rapidity that the minister
could not grasp fast enough to keep up
with it. He threw the vicious thing
down the lamp chimney, and said he
didn't want any more to do with a dor
mant wasp, at which his wife burst into
tears, and asked how he. a minister of
the gospel, could use such language
right before the children, too.
Bear Ranting; In Russia
The following singular means of cap
turing for killing the bear is said to be
frequently practiced by Russian peas
ants who cannot easily procure firearms,
A is well known the near has a fond
ness for honey, and will track his way
a great distance to where the wild bees
have filled some hollow tree. Their
stings cannot hurt him, and they and
their stores are entirely at his mercy.
In a forest known to contain bears, the
hunters examine all the hollow trees,
till they discover a wild bee hive. A
branch of the tree is then choeeu, di
rectlyabove the hole; if there is no such,
a stout peg is driven into the trunk. To
this peg a strong cord is fastened, and to
the end of the cord a heavy stone or a
cannon hall is suspended, at about half
a foot from the ground. The bear In
his researches comes upon the treasures
of honey. The pendulous barrier ob
structs and incommodes him a good
deal. He is an irritable brute in such
cases one of the most Irritable as well
as stupid in the forest.' He begins by
shoving the weight or stone one side;
but it presses against his head, and he
gives it a slight knock to free himself
from the ineonvenieni-e. It recoils a
moment, and he receives a smart tap
on the ear. liis temper is roused and
he agaiu pushes off the hard ami heavy
mass, more violently; he gets a heavy
blow ou the side of his skull, ou its re
turn. He becomes furious and with
a powerful jerk sends the rock swing
ing away. The pendulum cannot be the
first to tire of this game; and it is a
game iu which the blows are felt on one
side exclusively. The bear alone suf
fers; and the poiut is that he suffers as
much by the blows he gives as by those
he gets, ne takes double punishment.
His very retaliations are all against him
self; and for every furious push, which
makes his skull ache, he receives an im
mediate equivalent, which makes it ache
again. At last his rage is unbounded ;he
hugs the block; he strikes it; he bites
it; but whenever he would thrust his
head into the hive, back on his ear
falls the obstruction, against which his
terrible hug or the blows of his paws
are of no avail. The brute is'maildened.
He faces his strange and pertinacious
tormentor and once more makes it re
bound from his skull. But back again
it swings like a curse, which returns
upon the head from which it started.
The bear falls exhausted under these
reiterated blows, one more violent than
another; ami if he be not dead, the
hunters w ho have watched the contest
from their hiding pi tee, soon dispatch
him.
That Awful PhomKrah.
Mrs. f'armeen need no longer sit up
until midnight fora late husband that
is late coming home. She can now
speak her lecture in the diaphragm of
the phonograph, attach one end of a
cord to the crank and the other end to
the knob of her chamber door, and re
tire to her downy couch, with the sweet
and comforting assurance of having
" sH)k'ii her mind" where it w ill do
the most good. Carmeen will come
sneaking n at 1 a. m., as usual, tnd
creep stealthily up stairs but no sooner
docs he (icu his bed-room door, than
that awful phonograph will up and tell
him in his wife's own voice, what she
thinks of such conduct as this, winding
up with the stern command: " Xow
come to bed you old fool, and don't sit
there blinking like a sick owl !" And
all the time this icrformance is in pro
gress, Mrs. Carmeen may be reveling
in sweet dreams, in which spring bon
nets and the latest lovely thing in polo
naises predomi nate.
The phonograph is also capable of
playing pretty shabby tricks, and
if Ieacon Peppers could have laid his
hands on the inveutor,a few nights ago,
he would probably have torts him into
two thousand fragments more or less.
The Ieacn is or rather was a good
man and a class-leader in the Browns
ville Church. He visited Xew York re
cently and wandered into an establish
ment w here several phonographs were
on exhibition and for sale. He became
much interested in the instrument ; and
when he spoke into th mouth-piece of
one of the machines and heard his own
words ground out with startling dis
tinctness, he manifested his astonish
ment in one prolonged " W-h-e-w !"
Then a happy thought struck him.
He usually made a brief address at class
meetings on Friday evenings, and he
sudde-ily conceived the Idea of speak
ing his piece in the phonograph pur
chasing the Invention, and surprising
the brethren and sisters at the next
meeting. The idea was carried into ex
ecution to some extent. The Deacon
charged the phonograph with an appro
priate address, and whilst he was
bargaining with the owner of the In
strument, in another part of the room
a rough, bushy-whiskered individual,
attired in corduroy pantaloons and a
spreckled shirt, slipped in unobserved
and how led a lot of stuff into the same
machine. The deacon paid for and
carried off the phonograph, entirely ig
norant of the frightful sentences in
jected into it by the rough person
who, as subsequent events proved, was
the intellectual driver of a mule team,
and not very choice in his language.
The next day was Friday, and in the
evening the deacon marched into the
church with his phonograph under his
arm, and his face illumed with a radiant
smile.
"My friends," he commenced, "I
have a little surprise for you. I do not
intend to address you this evening. 1
have brought a substitute to speak for
me. This little instrument I have here
(holding up the phonograph) will now
address you briefly on you- duty to the
church and suffering humanity."
Then the Deacon with a smile ex
tending from ear to ear, gave the
crank a couple of turns, and all the
color faded from his fade as the phono
graph thundered forth:
" Git up there ! you dashed old crip
ple ! Whoa, Sal you blind "
It was awful.
The hair of the brothers in the front
pews stood straight up, a sister in tbe
back part of the house fainted dead away
and the sexton yelled "flre !"
"There is some terrible mistake
here," gasped the deacon, after a few
minutes of painful silence. " I must
have turned the crank the wrong way
or maybe thelinch-piu is loose, or the
safety-valve has lost a screw, or some
thing." And, perspiring at every pore,
the deacon essayed another turn and
the machine yelled:
" Gee, Bill ! Where in the dash nation
are you going you son of a mule! Ped-
di-whoa-a-a ! Blast your eyes, can't you
The aw fulness became more awful.
Three more sisters fainted, several
brothers clapped their hats on their
heads and their fingers into their ears
and started for the door shouting "po
lice!" and the sexton halloaed "mur
der," while the deacon wildly clutched
the phonograph by the neck and chok
ed it until it was black in the face, and
its eyes bulged out an inch.
But 'twas no use. The internal ar
rangements of the machine were evi
dently demoralized, and the cylinder
continued to revolve grinding out the
most frightful language ever heard out
side of a political ward convention; and
when the audience were saluted with
" I'll knock your dashed brains out,
you long-eared " they didn't wait for
the remainder of the "address," but
got up as one man and one woman
and made a dash for the door in a de
cidedly panic-stricken manner. The
Deacon, witli the color of a small-pox
flag, threw the phonograph over the
pulpit, sprang after it, and kicked it
down the aisle into the street, where
the sexton smashed it with an axe,
just as the Deacon's address began to
issue from its mouth-piece, and then
placed it under the hydrant and let a
stream of water run on it all night. A
committee was appointed ou the spot to
investigate what ap)ieared to be the
Deacon's highly lmproer and pain
ful conduct, and that well-meaning per
son has concluded to move West and
grow up with the country.
Grandfather LU-kshlncle on the Hot
Weather.
"This is very unpleasant weather,"
said Grandfather Lickshingle.theother
day. "I am goiu' on two hundred
years old now, au' I don't remember
ever seein' nuthin' like it."
"It's awful," growled a member of
the family; "if it doesn't soon get cool
er I do think we shall die."
"Cooler? die?" exclaimed grand
father; "wh wh what d'ye mean,
child? I wasn't complaiuin' about the
heat," he went on, buttoning up his
dressing-gown. "I was about to re
mark that I never seen such confound
edly cool weather at this time of year.
Why, only think, here it's the middle
of July, and the thermometer down to
hundred and ten iu the shade," and
he shrugged his shoulders as if a lump
of ice had slid down his back.
"I wouldn't be surprised," he con
tinued, "if the blamed mercury would
git down to a hundred afore it stops,
and freeze half of us to death, same as
it did once out West."
"Out West?"
"Yes; in St. Louis."
"You must be mistaken, grandfather;
St. Louis is the hottest place in the
world. People are dying there from
the heat by dozens."
"Oh, I know they are now: and I
don't 'onder at it people havebeco-ne
so everlastiiiTy delicate these days that
they can't stand nuthin'. Xow, when
I lived in St. Louis it was inhabited by
a different breed of cats. In them days
the reg'lar temier'ture was from 2ri0 to
300 iu the shade."
Here the member got out of the room,
unis-rceived by grandfather, who con
in ned :
"That made it kind of pleasant and
healthy. But one summer, right in the
middle of harvest, the thermometer fell
down to a hundred an' five, an' I never
seen such distress in all my life. People
just literally froze to death. If your
grandfather hadu't been tougher than a
pine knot-hole, I'm sure he wouldn't
be here now to tell it. But I had lots
of heavy clotiun' au' managed to worry
through. There's somethiu' in the air
that reminds nie of that deso'rit
time, an I'm afraid history is to be re
peated," and he began blowing on his
finger ends, at the same time turning
around to see what effect was being pro
duced by the recital.
Finding himself alone, he said :
'All right; I can stand it if they can.
I was only tellin' the story that they
might know a liule of the history of
their own country; but if they don't
want to hear it, they tieedn't. If they
prefer to remain as ignorant a the
beasts of the field, it ain't my loss. For
my art I'll go down to the ice-house.
It cau't be very much cooler there
than it is here," and picking up his
cane and fan, he went.
Blowtns; the Bellows.
During the journey of the Emperor
Joseph II to Italy, one of the wheels of
his conch broke down on the road, sc
that it was with difficulty that be
reached a small village at a short dis
tance. On his arrival there His Majes
ty got out at the door of the only
blacksmith's shop the town afforded,
and desired him to repair the wheel
without delay.
" That I would do willingly," replied
the smith, " but it being holiday all my
men are at church; the very boy who
blows the bellows is not at home."
"An excellent method then presents
itself of warming oneself," replied the
Emperor, preserving hU incognito;
and he immediately set about blowing
the bellows, while the blacksmith
forged die iron. The wheel being re
paired, six sols were demanded for tbe
job, but the Emperor gave six ducats.
The blacksmith returned them to the
traveler, saying :
" Sir, you have made a mistake; and
instead of six sols you have given me
six pieces of gold, which no one in the
village can change."
"Change them when and where you
will," said the Emperor, stepping into
his carriage ; "an emperor should pay
fot such a pleasure as that of blowing
the bellows."
A Good Reeorsl But a Bad Memory.
"Ahem! Oh excuse me one mo
ment, my friend,", said a seedy-looking
individual with a blossom on his iiih
and a black-and-blue eye, as he emerged
from the alley leading out from the
rear of the Tivoli to Clark street.
It was about 9 o'clock in the evening,
and the person addressed was a coun
tryman, who, on being thus accosted,
stopped to hear w hut the man had to
say, thinking he had at last found some
body in all this "big city" that knew
hini.
"You see, my friend, I haven't been
in this fix a great while, and it grinds
me clear down to the sidewalk and out
into the gutter to be compelled to place
before the public the real facts of the
case, but a man sees a pile of changes
in this world if he only lives long
enough, you can just bet your bottom
dollar on that.
"It does me good to meet a good,
sq iare-looking man like jou, and I'm
just talkin' to you, that you've got a
heart in you bigger'n an ox.
"I'm one of the relics, my friend, I
am. It cleaned me out siicker'n a
whistle.
"I used to own the real estate over
there where the Methodist Church
block stands, but I thought I saw a bet
ter place to put the money, so I sold
her out.
"Was a member of the Board of
Trade for a good many years, but I fi
nally shook 'em.
'I'm old here in town, my friend,
awfully old.
"If it hadn't been for me Long John
would never have gone to Congress.
I'm the man that first suggested the
tunnel scheme, they'd never thought
ot underminin' the river if it hadn't
been for me. I cleaned out the 'Wil
low' kept by Roger Plant, laid the first
pavement that was ever put down iu
the city, was at the convention held in
the wigwam when Lincoln was nomi
nated, built the Clark street viaduct
just north of the bridge; why, only
yesterday I met Potter Palmer, and he
said 'Johnson' my name's Johnson
said he 'Johnson, where on the face of
the footstoll have you been so long? I
haven't seen you since you loaned nie
them 8,000. I want you to come right
down to the hotel and live with us;
want you to make the house your home
and it shan't cost you a cent, either.'
''But I don't want anybody to board
me for nothiu'. stranger, you can
whack up as much as you mind on
that.
'Then, there's old Governor Bever
age; why, li iiu and me 'ised to go to
school together, lived right alongside
of him for more'n twenty years.
"I used to know Mrs. O'I.eary, too.
the woman that owned the cow, you
know, better'n I know my own father.
Met her for the first time like you met
me this evening. She told me that she
had money enough in the Corn Ex
change, but was just at that moment a
little short, just exactly as I am my
self, as I now stand before you, and
darn me if 1 didn't pull out my ocket
book and give her f 1H without another
word. But of course times are a little
close now, 1 knw, and I couldn't ex
pect "Could you loan me a no, darn me
if I'll lie so mean as to ask it of you.
"But. speaking of Beverage, reminds
me; let's go into KirchofTs and ;ct a
glass of beer; and, some other time,
when I meet you, I'll tell you all about
how- I built the Prairie ilu Chien branch
of the Milwaukee and St. Paul railroad,
and owned it all myself for upwards ot
live years."
They stepped inside anil up to the
bar, whereupon he of the unsatisfactory
eye continued :
"Xow. dou't take beer because I do,
my friend ; call for just what you'll
have. Come to think about it, I believe
I'll drink a little rye myself. Here's
lookiu' at you.
"By the great smotherin' smoke,
stranger, that touches the spot. Have
am.ther; a man ought never go to bed
on one drink. Doctors are fearfully
down on the single-drink-before-bcd-time
business. Well, down she goes.
"Ah, hem, ahem ! (voughing) that
makes a man feel forty years younger.
'"Let's just have one more snifter and
then go home. Xo? "Well, that,
strange; can't drink three straits, eh ?
Gues I'll have to take a night-cap
alone then. Here's hopin'.
"Jerusalem, crickets! Where In the
name of the great Milky Way is my
wallet? I'll bet $!K) that somebody has
picked my pocket. Will you settle it,
stranger? I'll meet you here to-morrow
at 10 o'clock and make it all right
with you," and drawing the back of his
hand across his mouth, he started to
wards the door, leaving the dumb
founded Granger to settle the bill.
A he w as about to pass out he paused,
and turning half around, said :
"Hope you won't disapxint me, my
friend; I hope you'll be here on time,
for I want to see you to get your opin
ion on a matter. Y'ou see I'm goiu' to
build a pontoon bridge from the water
works to the crib, and I kind o' want
to get the ideas of the best people.
Good-night."
Fields of Koses.
The roses of Chazipoor, on the river
Ganges, are cultivated in enormous
fields of hundreds of acres. The de
lightful odor from these fields can be
smelled at seven miles distance ou the
river. The valuable article of com
merce known as "attar of roses" is
made in the following manner: On
forty pounds of roses are poured sixty
pounds of water, and they are then dis
tilled over a slow fire,aiid thirty pound
of rose water obtained. This rose wa
ter is then poured over forty pounds of
fresh roses, and from that is distilled,
at most, twenty pounds of rose water;
this is then exjiosed to the cold night
air, and in the morning a small quan
tity of oil is found on the surface. From
eighty pounds of roses about two huu-
I dred thousand at the utmost an ounce
j and a half of oil is obtained, and even
'at Chazipoor, it costs forty rupees
twenty dollars an ounce.
r