jilliiit Hi
P II i - -1 'ICS 1 1 L
&
B. F. SCHWEIER,
THE COJTSTITTJTIOII-THE TTJTIOir-AJn) THE EnOECEMBST OF THE LAW3.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXXII.
MIFFIJN1WN, JUNIATA COUXTY, PEXNA., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER IS, 1S7S.
XO. 38.
mt life.
Ob ! sad and weary pass my days,
Cpon this shaded earth ;
There liea no dower amid its lays.
To wake my soul to mirth ;
And life, for me, do brightness hath ;
Dark lowers the storm-cloud o'er my path.
Faint glimpses of the sonny sky.
The pure and perfect day.
Come floating in their gladness by,
l!nt oh ! not long their stay.
No '. life bath ever been to me
A shaded sky a stormy sea.
(h ! death would be indeed relief.
Yet 'tis to me d uied ; '
While thoxe who strangers were to grief.
In all their joys have died.
done is the clear-voiced murmuring rill;
The troubled fount is flowing stilL
The friends I prized tbey were but few;
The lovely and the brave.
They've paiwed away, like early dew.
To slumber in the grave.
To ma their memory doth seem
Like a faiut, sweet, yet troubled dream.
Alas ! there is no joy for me.
No balm for my sad htart ;
I must live oa in misery.
Vet longing to depart ;
A riower, the billows wild among
A leaf, upon the rude winds flung
And I would wish that not one sigh.
One bitter tear should fall. .
No w&il awake, when I shall he
Beneath the tthadowy palL
No, then the wild sea wili find rest
The weary dove will find her nest.
The Last Biscuit.
Prudence Holmes sat -alone in the
wide, shady kitchen, busily engaged in
picking over whortleberries. Without
the sunshine of an August afternoon
bathed the green fields and dusty road
that wound away to the village, and
touched with rich color the nasturtiums.
sweet eas, geraniums and zinnias in
the tiny garden, and the heavy Virgi
iiia creeper that climbed and blossomed
anove trie uoor. j'ruilence made a
pretty picture as she sat on a low cricket
with a big calico apron spread over her
blue-sprigged muslin dress, to defend
it from the stains that had soiled her
little brown hands. She was a petite,
daintily-rounded maiden of eighteen
with great dark eyes, and glossy curls
shading a fair brow, and cheeks with a
touch of wild-rose bloom upon them
The kitchen, too, such a pretty picture,
with its well-scoured floor and dresser,
its asparagus-toped clock, its shining
stove, with bunches of herbs hung be
hind, and a great bouquet of vivid car
dinal flowers set on the snowy table.
The kitchen was perfectly still save the
buzz of the tlies and the click of the
clock; and outside, the cricket and the
locusts alone disturbed the peace
l'rudunce believed that everybody in
the house was asleep but herself, and
yawned somewhat wearily as she tossed
over the berries, finishing the yawn
with a bit of solilioquy uttered aloud
dear 'this having summer board
ers isn't very nice !"
'Miss Prudence," said a voice in the
doorway so suddenly that Prudence
nearly upset her berries in her surprise
"Oh, Mr. Went worth, is it you?" she
said bashfully, bending down to pick
up a few berries that had rolled from
her apron.
"I'll pick 'em up!" exclaimed a new
comer, a tall and rather aristocratic-
looking youth of 21, with merry blue
eyes, short auburn hair curling closely
under a straw hat diving for the mis
sing berries with ungraceful dexterity
"Yes, it is I, of course. Have you for
gotten your promise to go after lilies
with me, this afternoon ?"
"Oh, but I didn't say this afternoon,
you know; only some afternoon this
week," responded Prudence demurely
"Well we'll call it this afternoon
won't we?" was the persuasive rejoin
der as the straw hat was tossed on the
chair.
"I cannot; I've got these berries to
pick over."
"I'll help you. Lend me half that
apron and we'll have them done in a
trice."
"But I shall have supjier to Ret.
Mother's away, and there are biscuit to
make," insisted Prudence, turning her
face away to hide a smile that would
curve her lips.
"Xever mind that responded Mr.
Abbott Wentworth, bringing a chair to
her side. Tea's at 6. isn't it? and it's
only 2.30. We'll be back at 5 without
fail, and have time to get half the lilies
in the river;" and he began to assort
a handful of berries with much earnest
ness. "W-e-e-1." assented Prudence, after
a pause for consideration and a glance
at the clock, " I can go for a little while,
perhaps. Oh! don't stain your coat,
Mr. Wentworth."
But Mr. Wentworth was sublimely
indifferent to his coat, and worked with
such a good will that the berries were
soon picked over, and Prudence and
himself on their way to the river. Five
minutes later Prudence, with her
draperies daintily bestowed around her,
was seated in the stern of a little boat,
which profiled by Mr. Went worth's
practiced hand shot.sw iftlydow n stream
Although Mr. Wentworth said to Pru
dence live times within an hour that it
was a lovely day, and although Pru
dence assented every time, I hardly
think they appreciated the beauty
around them, for Prudence was quite
absorbed In theliliesand the reflections
in the water, and Mr. Wentworth look
ed more at his companion than at the
aspect ot nature. They had gathered
enough lilies to satisfy them, and Pru
dence was leaning backward and idly
trailing one hand in the water, when
she suddenly uttered a little scream,
and sat erect with white cheeks, from
which the color had been frightened.
"Oh, I almost lost it! How careless I
am!" she exclaimed, replacing an old
fashioned ring set with a tiny circle of
rubies on her finger.
"Did the water sweep it ofT your
hand?"
"I suppose so. It's too large for me.
I'm always losing It and finding itagain.
I wouldn't lose it entirely for the world
because it used to be grandmother's.
She gave it to me."
"What a glorious old ng it Is?"
said Mr. Wentworth, with interest
-May I look at It ? Don't trouble your
self to take it off," he added, drawing in
his oar and leaning towards his com
panion. Prudence allowed her tiny
brown hand to lie in his aristocratic
white one a moment, theu coquettisbly
wuncrew it.
Isn 't it pretty ?" she inquired archly
'"J- JMiau i ten you how to
guard against losing it in the future?"
"Oh, yes, if you please."
.a .. .
ear tins uttle ring of mine to
guard it; or better yet. exchange with
me. Give me yours and take this in
stead, said the young man daringly.
Provoking Prudence looked at the
heavily-chased gold ring he held out to
her, and then looked back at the water
with an innocent "Oh, I don't think it
will fit."
"Try it," suggested her companion
softly.
Prudence shook her head, but finally
agreed blushingly that it would do no
harm to tiy, and slipped the ring on
her forefinger.
'Its a perfect fit!" cried Mr. Went
worth, delightedly. "Xothing could
be better. Why, Miss Prudence, you
surely don't mean to give it back?"
"Of course I do," was the saucy re
joinder. "Why not?"
"Because," said Mr. Wentworth,
speaking very earnestly, and disre
garding his oars altogether, while he
tried to get a glimpse of the face hidden
by the flat hat ''because I meant to ask
you to wear it always for my sake. I
meant to ask you "
"Oh, Mr. Wentworth," cried his lis
tener here, "do you see that lilv on
your left won't you get it for me?"
"I'll get you that and twenty others,
if you'll listen to me first. Do you care
for me, Prudence? Will j-oti marry
me?"
Prudence's face was turned away,
and her head bent lower. A crimson
flush stole over ears, neck and chin.
"Prudence."
Xo answer. Her companion leaned
over and took her hand again ventur
ously. "Prudence, will you wear this ring?"
he questioned softlv.
But the hand w as hastily drawuawav,
a pair of saucy black eyes flashed into
iiis own, and Prudence's merry laugh
ter rang over the water.
"I'd rather have grandma's. I ought
to go home, Mr. Wentworth. for I know
it's almost tea time."
Mr. 'Wentworth put the ring in his
pocket and took up the oars again ener
getically; without a word. He was
fresh from college and held the stroke
oar in many a rat, but he never made
lietter time thau he did that afternoon
iu rowing up the river. The light boat
(hot along with the rower's brow knit
ted his teeth set. Xot once did he
look at Prudence, who sat iu half puz
rled, half alarmed silence, now and
then stealing sidewise glances at the
offended young Hercules from under
her hat. Mr. Wentworth drew a breath
of relief when the boat at last grated
on the sand, and, having assisted Pru
dence to land, and curtlv offered to
carry her lilies, he shouldered the oars
and marched grimly toward home by
her side. Prudence, somewhat bewil
dered and more angry, made no attempt
to break the silence, and studiously
endeavored to keep from crying. When
he at last left her at the door, with a
cool "thank you, Miss Prudence," and
departed to carry the oars to the barn,
it was well he did not look back, for
Miss Prudence tossed the lilies aside
with a petulant gesture and had a fit of
crying with her head on the kitchen
table.
When Mr V'entworth returned from
the barn, he did see a picture that com
forted him a little through the hop
wreathed pantry window. It was Pru-
dence with her sleeves pinned up, mold
ing biscuits in desperate haste, while
the tears fell thickly on her high calico
apron. This picture so amazed Mr.
Wentworth that he retreated hastily
behind a lilac bush to observe it, and
lingered so long that he was late for tea.
This was a model supper. There was
the great dish of berries, with snowy
cream beside, flanked by cheese and
raspberry jam. There were two moun
tainous plates of snowy biscuit, con
trasting with the gold sponge-caka and
the richer gold of the butter. Mr.
Wentworth, who had supposed the
should never have an appetite again,
felt quite revived by the sight of this
table and the memory of the picture.
The rest of the boarders seemed to share
the sensation, for the group of "luslin
was very hilarious, and the eatables dis
appeared rapidly. Prudence, presiding
between the pott, seemed rather out of
spirits, but Father Holmes atoned for
her silence by unusual jollity.
When the biscuits passed a second
time to Mr. Wentworth he saw that
only one was left, and would have re
fused decorously, but the hospitable
farmer pressed it upon hint. "Don't
be afraid of it. There's plenty more in
the kitchen; ain't there Prudence?"
Thus pressed, Mr. Wentworth accepted
the biscuit, then dropjed it suddenly
with an exclamation that broughtevery
eye upon him. There, imbedded in the
light, w hite bread, lay Prudence's ruby
ring.
Such a shout of laughter arose that
brought Prudeuce back from the kitch
en in haste, just in time to see Mr-
Wentworth coolly removing the ring
from the biscuit, amidst the merry
chorus and drop it into his waistcoat
pocket, "to be kept till called for," he
said w ith a significant glance at her
scarlet face. Poor Prudence! There
was no peace for her after that. A n
army of jokes quite overwhelmed her
protestations and disclaimings, ana sue
was thankful to beat hasty retreat to
the kitchen when the meal wa9 over.
But even there she was pursued by a
laughing trio of ladies harassed with
questions, and wonderment, and merri
ment, until the last dish was set away,
and she had seized her hat, with the
excuse that she must go to the village
for lette-s. Instead of going to the vil
lage, however, she stole along the hedge,
climbed the wall, and ran to the further
end of the orchard, where she flung
herself on the ground and cried as if
her heart would break. She had, per
haps cried half an hour, when a step
crushed the dry grass at her side, roused
her, and the very voice she dreaded to
hear, said : '
"I've come to return your ring. Miss
Prudence?"
Poor little Prudence sat tip hastily
and took the unfortunate ring with a
faltering "Thank you," then immedi
ately hid her face again.
"You needu't thank me: I should
have brought it before, but I couldn't
find you. I hope you're not troubled
about those ridiculous jokes," he added.
dignifiedly.
"Ao o," responded Prudence miser
ably, between her sobs; I I thought
you'd think I did it on purpose."
"How could I have thought so? It
was a mere accident, my getting that
particular biscuit. I'm very sorry
you've beeu annoyed in this way. I'm
goingaway to-uiorrow,Miss Prudeuce."
The sobs partially ceased, and Miss
Prudence said, surprisedly, "are you ?"
"Won't you bid me good-by ?"
Prudence said "Yes," unsteadily,
but did not raise her head,
"You will shake hands, won't you,
Miss Prudence ?"
Xo answer.
"I can't goaway w hi'e you are offen
ded with me. Won't you at least tell
me why you are crying?"
"Because I I lost my grandmother's
ring," sobbed Prudence, makinga great
effort for composure.
Mr. Wentworth laughed in spite of
himself. "Why, it's safe on your fin
ger, and not a w hit worse for its baking.
Is there really no other reason ?"
"X no."
"But there is. I shall never have
another happy moment if I've offended
you," said Mr. Wentworth, tragically.
I was a brute to treat you as I did, this
afternoon; but I'm going away, and I
shan't annoy you again. Won't vou
forgive me now and shake hands?"
Another long silence. Mr. Went
worth turned away in despair, but was
detained by a faltering voice, "I I'll
forgive you if "
"Well ?" was the breathless interposi
tion.
"You won 't go away."
The more observant boarders noticed
at breakfast the next morning that Mr.
Abbott Wentworth wore the ring that
he had found in the biscuit on the little
finger of the left hand, and that Pru
dence worest heavily chased gold circle
iu the place of . her lost ornament. To
use the words of aueof tiic before-named
iKiarders, "that tells the whole story
Lively Butter.
There is an old goat owned in De
troit which has received a great deal of
training from the boy. Ijist Fourth
of July they discovered that if they
stuck a fire-tracker in the end of a cane
and held it at William, he would lower
his head and go for them, and they have
practiced the trick so much that the
goat will tackle any human being w ho
poiuts a stick at him. A few days ago
he was lofing nea.- the corner of Third
and Lewis streets, when a corpulent
citizen came up and stopped to talk
with a friend. They happened to
speak of sidewalks, when the corpulent
citizen pointed his cane just to the left
of the goat and said
"That's the worst piece of sidewalk
in this town."
The goat had been eyeing the cane,
and the moment it came up he lowered
his head, made six or eight jumps, and
his head struck the corpulent citizen
just on "the belt." The man went
over into a mass of old tin, dilapidated
butter kegs.and abandoned hoop skirts,
and the goat turned a somersault the
other way, while the slim citizen threw
stones at a boy seated on a doorstep,
who was laughing tears as big as chest
nuts, and crying out:
"Oh, it's 'nuffto kill a feller!"
To-Day and To-Morrow.
Morrow is a town of some importance
about forty miles from Cincinnati. A
new brakeman on the road, who did
not know the names of the stations, was
approached by a stranger the other day.
Stranger "Does this train go to Mor
row to-day?"
"Xo," said the brakeman, who
thought the stranger was making game
of him; "It goes to-day yesterday, the
week after."
"You don't understand," persisted
the stranger;'! want to go to Morrow."
Brakeman "Why don't you wait till
to-morrow, then, and not come bother
ing around to-day? You can go to
morrow, or any other day you please."
Stranger "Won't you answer me a
civil question civilly? Will this train
go to day to Morrow ?"
Brakeman "Xot exactly: it will go
to-day and come back to morrow."
As the gentleman who wanted to go
to Morrow was about to give up in dis
gust, another employe, who knew the
station alluded to, came along and gave
the desired information.
Lut tit Thread of I
i Discourse.
Mr. Stukely of the South End got on
an opec car the other warm evening,
with a friend. Stukely was pretty full
and he gave his companion and the
other passenger a good deal of informa
tion regarding his past history. Said
lie: " My old great-uncle used to say
to me he was over 70 years old, my
great uncle was." "Yes?" said his
friend. ''Oh, did you know him?"
asked Stukely. "Xo, but I heard what
you said about him," ' Yes well, he
said to me, said he, 'Jim if you live to
grow up, said he he was over eighty
years old, my great uncle was " "So
you said was the reply. Oh, did
von know what he said !" " Xo, but I
know what you just said," replied the
sufferer, in a concilatory tone. "Yes ;
well, he said to me, said he, ' Jim, if
you ever live to grow up to be a man,
you just mind what I tell you,' said be.
He was over 90 years old, my great un
cle was." " Well, well," said the friend
a little impatiently, " What did he tell
you?" Stukely sunk his voice to a
whisper and impressively temarked:
"Hang me if I hain't forgot!"
iliins Which Burn Faster Than
(gunpowder.
Abcu. I j'r y-;voyc.irs agoSchonbein
a German chemisr, hal occasion to im
merse cottoa in a u.ixtiire of concen
trated nitric and sulphuric acids. To
his surprise lie noticed that the cotton
did not dissolve. Takingitand washing
off the acid he placed it in a drying oven
to dry. On returning the next morn
ing no cotton was to be seen. As the
students in his laboratory affirmed that
they had not meddled with it, he won
dered much as to w hat had become of it
He tried the experiment again, and this
time liau the good fortune to witness
the disappearance of the cotton. He
had discovered gun cotton. This is
very curious substance, although it doe
not differ in appearance from ordinary
cotton. It Is. however, a trifle heavier.
Strange to say, the manner in which
fire is applied to this, causes it to burn
very differently. Touch it with a live
coal or lighted cigar, and it burns away
very slowly, much like the mixtures
used to produce the colored fires of
Fourth of July nights; apply a flame to
it, and it explodes like gunpowder, but
if you fire it by means of a fulminating
cap it explodes with terrific violence,
and a rapidity six or seven times great
er. But there is another substance
which explodes even more terribly
still. It is nitro-irlveerine. This is
produced somewhat similarly to gun
cotton, with the exception that glycer-
ne is used instead of cotton, these sub
stances being very much alike iu chem
ical composition. Xitro-glycerine is a
dense, oily, liquid, which has a very
safe and harmless appearance, hut in
reality it is something terrible. A
small quantity placed ujion a hugeboul
der and fired, will blow it into a thous
and pieces, whereas, with gunpowder
the result would have been merely a
flash, and a great puff of wind and
smoke. You wonder perhaps, how it
is that nitro-glycerine merely placed
upon a stone and exploded, can possibly
break it, as you think that the air will
give way so much sooner than thestone.
I.et us consider two or three things
which will make it easier to understand.
You know vcrv well that it is hard work
to run w ith a kite a yard square iu your
hand with the face of the kite against
the wind. Xow supjKise you jump upon
a locomotive, running forty miles an
hour, l ou would find it utterly impos
sible to hold the kite as you did liefore.
and even if you could, a paper kite
would not stand the pressure. I u im
agination increase your velocity to that
of a cannon ball, or twelve miles a
minute. Your kite, though made of
the strongest cloth, would then give
way 1 ike so much wet piper. Thetruth
is, the air is a very unyielding sub-la nee
indeed to bodies moving with a high
velocity. Xow the rapidi. y with which
the gas formed by the combustion of
nitro-glycerine expands is a hundred
times that of a cannon ball, and the
atmosphere offers more resistance to a
body moving at that rate than the stone
beneath it. Xitro-glycerine in some of
its forms is the agent almost universally
employed in blasting. Without it many
of the great railway tunnels and other
feats of engineering would have been
impossible. The compounds of nitro
glycerine arc many. Mixed with tripoli
or rottenstone it becomes dynamite, or
"die-in-a-minute," as some wag lias
facetiously termed it; this adulterated
with nitrate of soda or jKitash is known
as giant powder. When nitro-glycerine
is mixed with gunpowder, in a verv
finely divided state, it is called rend
rock powder; with saw-dust, qualm
These are, however, all adnlterations.
and weaken the power of the explosive
Bird, Now and Then.
Then, twenty-two years ago, robins,
wrens, cat-birds, and humming birds.
and, indeed, the whole summer flock
were certainly more numerous than
they are to-day. Home observers be
lieve that the number of summer birds
has diminished more then half. The
same species are still with us, but how
long will they remain, when every
year, there are half a dozen on the s line
lawns where they were formerly count
ed by the score? Xow, you may sit on
a garden bench a long summer morn
ing, and very possibly not see more
than one oriole, one blue-bird, one
greenlet, one yellow-bird. Even the
robins come hopping about the garden-
walks by two and three, instead of the
dozen who were formerly in sight at
the same moment. And the humming
birds are very perceptibly less in num
bers. One has to watch for them now
in the summer twilight ; presently you
hall see little ruby-throat hovering
alone about the honeysuckles, and. per
haps, half an hour later, his wife, little
green-breast, mav come for a sip of
sweets. But that is all. Rarely, in
deed, do you see four or five quivering,
darting, flash about among the blos
soms at the same moment, as one often
saw them in past years. The gregari
ous birds, too the purple finches, the
wax-wings, the red-wings are only
seen in small parties compared to the
flocks that visited us twenty years ago.
And winter tells the same story. Xot
that the regular winter birds are so
much less numerous than they were
probably there is little change among
the sober snow birds, the merry chick
adees, or the winter sparrows. These
will probably gather about our doors
in January in much the same groups
and small flocks that we saw here for
merly. The woodpeckers and the blue-
jays are less numerous, however. The
crows seem to hold their own, and in
mild weather come flapping out of their
favorite haunts in the woods, to take a
look at the village. But winter offers
a mode of guessing at the number of
the summer population, which is a
pretty fair test, so far as the tree-builders
are concerned. When the leaves
fall in Xovemher.the nests are revealed
and after snow has fallen, and each
nest takes a tiny white dome, they be
come still more conspicuous. The In
dian tribes count their people by so
many lodges or tepees ; in the same way
during the autumn and winter months,
we may count the tree-building flock of
the previous summer by their nests.
And these tree-builders are probably
a fair proportion ot the whole summer
flock, including those who tuild among
the bushes or on the ground. Ii has
often been a winter amusement of the
wiiter, when walking through the vil
lage streets, to count the birds' nests
in the different trees in sight. The
trees are all familiar friends, and the
nests of different kinds add no little in
terest. But alas! every four or five
winters one observes the number of
nests diminishing. Among the maple
and elms lining the streets, or standing
on corners, or rooted on garden lawns
hut overhanging the sidewalks, were
certain individual trees which were ap
parently especial favorites; their gray
limbs never failed to show year after
year several of these white-domed nests.
Here among the forked twigs of a young
maple was the bold, rather coarsely
built nest of the robin, shreds of cloth
or paper, picked up in the door-yards
hanging perhaps loosely from anion
the twigs. Yonder, on the drooping
branch of an elm, near the churchyard
gate, was seen the long, closely-woven,
pensile nest of the brilliant oriole.
Here, again, not far from the town
pump a primitive monument of civili
zation dating from the dark ages of vil
lage history, but still highly valued
and much frequented by the present
generation, although the little town
now boasts its "Croton" a maple of
good size was never without a nest in
fpite of the movement and noise about
the pump. There were several of these
trees which showed every year two or
three nests; and one, a maple, differ
ing in no way from other maples so far
as one could see, and standing near a
corner before the door of a parsonage,
the branches almost grazing the modest
windows of the house, revealed every
winter three, four or even fivend one
year six, nests on different branches
from the lowest to the highest. There
were often two robin's nests, with the
pendulous nest of thegrcenlet, and one
of the goldfinch, and occasionally one
of a summer yellow-bird, or of a small
pewee. The tree is still standing, gay
with brilliant coloring, gay and red in
varied shades, at the moment we are
writing, but, so far as one can see
there lias been hut one nest ou its
branches during this last summer.
Such was the story told by the village
trees thru ; you were never out of sight
of some one nest, and frequently half a
dozen could be counted in near neigh
borhood. To-day it may be doubted if
we have more thau one-third of the
number of these street-nests which
could lie counted twenty years ago.
".My Dear Hatband.'
A delver iu the mines near Central
as late had quite a romantic exjieri-
ence. A few weeks ago 'wo bright
ittle cherubs hailed him on the street
is papa; rushing up and with joyful
acclamation, each seized a hand of this
nonplused bachelor. Xeyer before had
such endearing terms fell upon the
ear of our Xevada friend, and his vani
ty was flattered. Taking the little ones
to a candy shop near by, lie loaded them
down with good things, and sent them
tome with many kind wishes for their
mother's welfare, who, it appears, some
two years ago had a misunderstanding
with her husband and who has since
had no knowledge of his whereabouts.
But upon the recital of her children's
stoiy regarding their (supposed) fa
ther's munificence and kindness, her
heart beat with quickened throbs as
visions of old times came before her
eyes, and, thinking herself not blame
less in regard to the separation, she re
solved that ere another day should die,
the first advances toward a reconcilia
tion should be made. I'rged by this
thought she embarked on a four wheel
steamer from I lead wood to Central,
then taking into her confidence a mu
tual friend, sent for her supposed liege
lord. Our friend made his appearance
and was still further horriliel by being
dubbed "My Dear Husband." Although
the resemblance w as remarkable (as a
photo shown afterwards proved), still
our hero by his earnest expostulation
finally convinced the lady that it was
a case of mistaken identity. " There's
a divinity that shapes our ends, rough
hew them as we may.'
lee Water.
A man who in a state of perforation
with the sweat oozing from every pore
in his skin, should suddenly strip off his
clothing and shut himself up in a re
frigerator would be set down in pub
lic estimation as a natural fool, who de
fied Providence itself to save him from
death. Such a thing actually happened
in this city a few years ago, and the
man was taken out of the ice-box dead
as a herring and stiff as a pikestaff. Ice
water arrests digestion, if it does not
absolutely drive out all animal heat,
and it is not resumed till the water is
raised to the temperature required to
carry it on. Habitual ice-water drink
ers are usually very flabby about the
region of the stomach. They complain
that their food iies heavy on that pa
tient organ. They taste their dinners
for hours after it is bolted. They cul
tivate the use of stimulants to aid di
gestion. If they are intelligent they
read about food and what the physiolo
gist has to say about it how long it
takes cabbage and pork and beets and
potatoes and other meats and esculents
to go through the process of assimila
tion. They roar at new bread, hot
cakesand fried meat, imagining these to
have been the cause of their maladies.
But the ice water goes down all the
same, and finally friends are called in
to take a farewell look at one whom a
mysterious Providence has called to a
clime where, so far as Is known, ice
water is not used. The number of im
mortal beings who go hence to return
no more on account of an injudicious
use of ice water can hardly be estima
ted. Whenever you argue with another
wiser than yourself, in order that others
may admire your wisdom, they will
discover your Ignorance. When one
manages a discourse better than your
self, although you may be fully in
formed, do not start objections.
Glue.
The process of manufacturing glue is
as follows: The clippings and refuse
materia's are first placed in a lime pit,
and, when sufficiently steeped, they are
immersed In water, well-washed, rinsed
and placed on hurdles to dry. After
wards they are boiled to the consistence
of thick jelly, which is passed, while
hot, through osier baskets, or bags and
nets made of rope, to separate the
grosser particles of dirt from it, and al
lowed to stand some time to purify
fnrther. When the remaining iirpuri-
ties have settled to the bottom it is
melted and boiled a second time, and
when thick enough it is drawn off into
a vessel and maintained at a tempera
ture which will keep it liquid. This
gives further time for the deposition of
solid impurities, and for clarification
by the addition of such chemicals as the
manufacturers may prefer. The glue
is then run off into wooden coolers,
about six feet long, one foot broad, and
two feet deep. Here it becomes a firm
jelly, which is cut out by a spade into
square cakes, each cake being deposi
ted in a sort of wooden box, open in
several slits or divisions to the back
The glue Is cut into slices by passing
a brass wire, attached to a kind of how,
along the slits. These slices are placed
upon nets, the marks of which are seen
ou the dry glue, and stretched in wood
en frames, removed to the open air,
placed in piles, with proper intervals
for the admission of air, each pile being
roofed in as a protection from the wea
ther. When the glue is about three
quarters dry it is removed into lofts
where in the course of some weeks, the
hardening is completed. The cakes are
finally dried off in a stove at an eleva
ted temperature, w hich, when they are
once solid, only serves to harden and
improve their quality. Good glue
should contain no stacks, but be trans
parent and clear when held up to the
light. The best glue swells without
melting when immersed in cold water,
and it resumes its former size on dry
ing. Shreds or parings of vellum and
parchment make an almost colorless
glue; old gloves, rabbit skiu3 and the
like, are frequently employed in this
manufacture. The method of softening
glue for use is to break it into small
pieces, si .a k from twelve to tweuty hours
in cold water, then set it over a fire and
gradually raise its temperature until it
is all dissolved, taking care to stir it
frequently while melting. Prepared in
this way it cools down into a stiff jelly,
which requres only a little warming to
fit it for use. Amber colored glue is
that most esteemed by cabinet makers.
Glue must not be used in a freezing tem-l-ralure.
Fresh glue dries much more
quickly than that which has been once
or tw ice melted. Dry glue steeped in
cold water absorbs different quantities
of water, according to the quality of
the glue, while the proportion of water
so absorbed may be used as a test of the
quality of the glue. From careful ex
periments w ith dry glue immersed for
twenty-four hours iu water, at a tem
perature of CO degress Fahrenheit, and
thereby transformed into a jelly, it was
found that the finest ordinary glue, or
that made from w hite bones, absorbs
twelve times its weight of water in
t'venty-four hours; from dark
bones, the glue absorbs nine times its
weight of water, while the ordinary
glue, made from animal refus,e absorbs
but three to five times its own weight of
wattr.
A Big Mistake.
Recently our church had a new min
ister.
He is a nice good sociable gentleman ;
but being from a distant State, of course
he was totally unacquainted with our
people.
Therefore it happened that during
his pastoral calls he made several ludic
rous blunders.
One of them is as follows :
The otiier evening he called upon
Mrs. Hadden. She had just lost her
husband, and naturally supposed that
his visit was relative to the sad occur
rence. So, after a few common-places had
been exchanged, she was not at all sur
prised to hear him remark :
"It was a sad bereavement, was it
not, Mrs. Hadden?"
"Yes," faltered the widow.
"Totally unexpected?"
"Oh, yes;l i . er dreamed of it."
"He died in. be stable, I suppose?"
"Oh, no; in the house."
"Ob well, I suppose you must have
thought a good deal of him."
"Of course, sir" this with a vim.
The minister looked rather surprised,
crossed his legs and renewed the. con
versation. "Blind staggers was the disease, 1
believe?" he said.
"Xo, sir," snapped the widow, apo
plexy." "Indeed; you must have fed him too
much."
"He was always capable of feeding
himself, sir."
"Very intelligent he must have been.
Died hard, didn't he."
"He did."
"You had to hit him on the head with
an axe to put him but of misery, I was
told."
Mrs, Hadden 's eyes snapped fire.
"Whoever told you so did not speak
the truth," she haughtily answered.
James died naturally."
"Yes" repeated the minister, in a
slightly perplexed tone, "he kicked the
side of the barn down in his last agonies,
did he not?"
"Xo, sir, he didn't."
"Well, I have been misinformed, I
suppose. How old was he?"
"Thirty-five."
"Then he did not do much active
work. Perhaps you are better w ithout
him, for you can easily supply his
place with another."
"Xever, sir never will I see one as
good as he." I
"Oh, yes, you will. He had the
heaves bad, yon know."
"Xothing of the kind."
"Why, I recollect I saw him, one day,
with you on his back, and I distinctly
recollect that he bad the heaves, and
walked as if he had the string bait."
Mrs. Hadden stared at her reverend
visitor as if she imagined she wa crazy.
"He never could have the string halt,
for he had a cork leg!" she returned.
"A cork leg ! remarkable. But really
didn't he have a dangerous trick of sud
denly shopping and kicking a wag.m all
to pieces?"
"Xever"; he was not a madman sir."
"Probably cot. But there was some
good points about him."
"I should think so!"
"The way in which he carried his
ears for example."
"Xobody else ever noticed that par
ticular merit," said the widow, with
much asperity; "he was warm hearted,
generous and frank."
"Good qualities," answered he, un
consciously. "How long did it take
him to so a mile?"
"About til lee ii minutes."
"Xot much of a goer. Wau't his
hair apt to fly?"
"He didn't have any hair. He was
bald headed."
O.U Us a curiosity ?"
"Ao sir; no more ol a curiosity than
you are."
"Ibe minister shifted uneasily, and
got red in the face. But he returned to
the attack.
"Did you use the whip much on
him ?" he questioned.
"Xever, sir."
"Went right along without it, eh?'
"Yes."
"He must of been a good kind of a
brute?"
Mrs. Hadden turned white and made
no reply.
iiie minister did not know what to
say, but dually blurted uut:
"What I most admired about him
was the beautiful waggle of his tail."
Then the widow just sat down and
cried.
"The idea of you coming here and
insulting me!" the sobbed. "If my
husband bad lived you wouldn't a done
it. Your remarks in reference to the
poor dead man have been a series of
insults. I won't stand it."
He colored and looked dumbfounded.
"Xo, no."
"Ain't you Mrs. Blinkers?" he stam
mered.
"And has not your old gray horse
died?"
1 never owned a d-horse, but my
husband h-died a week ago."
Ten minutes later the minister came
out of that house with the reddest face
ever seen on mortal man.
And to think," he groaned, as he
strode home, "that I was talking horse
to that woman all the time, and she
was talking husband '."
Parker's Plant.
ism i arKer, tne expressman, has a
soul that loves the beautiful. He went
into the woods across the river a few
days ago to fill his soul with sweet com
mune witn nature. Here he espied a
plant with large glossy leaves and a
wealth of foliage that attracted his ar
tistic eye. So he dug it up, and put
ting it into his wagon, brought it home
and put it in a tub in the door-yard of
the Parker mansion. It grew wonder
fully, and was the admiration of the
neighborhood. Everybody wanted to
know what it was. Some pronounced
it a species of Japan lily, and others
though: it was a section of the great
American aloe. So Bill went down to
Shoaff and asked him to inspect it.
Shoaff knows all the plants like a book,
and he pronounced it the Symptocartus
Fictidus, which so delighted Bill that
he had it written on a card and tacked
to the side of the tub. When anyone
called and remarked, "That's a beauti
ful plant of yours, Mr. Parker, what
do you call it?" Bill would answer
with a glow of satisfied pride, "Yes,
ma'am, that's a synip yes, a sira car
cassor some such a name, durned if I
can get the right hang of the name
somehow but you cn read it for your
self right here on this end of the tub."
Continued struggling with the word
made it more formidable to Bill, and so
he went once more to .Shoaff with, "Say,
Shoaff, can't you knock off a few letters
out of the name of that plant. It's
Dutch, I reckon, and them that's posted
may walk away with it easy enough,
but It gravels me. Can't you bile it
down somehow?" "Yes," said Shoaff.
"I can give you the common name.''
"That's it," said Bill, "give me the
common name." "The common name,"
said Shoaff, "is skunk's cabbage." And
then Bill concluded he'd either dig up
his tub, or let it swim along under as
high-sounding a title as he could get.
The Legal Right to Wear Cornet.
Ill an indirect way the Supreme Court
of Pennsylvania has been called upon to
decide the important question as to
whether a woman has any legal light to
wear stays. It gallantly says she has.
The matter found its way into court
after this fashion : A lady w as riding
in a horse.car, not crowded, perhaps,
but containing ladies enough to cover
all the seats with their dresses, so that
the traveller had to stand up, The car
stopped suddenly and she fell over
breaking her knee-pan. She sued for
damages. The company claimed con
tributory negligence on her part, in
that she did not take hold of the strap
proviJed for standing passengers. Sl.e
set up on the other hand that she could
not reach or hold the strap, owing to
the stays which she wore, and that with
the present fashions no lady can do so, at
least without inconvenience and possi
ble injury. The lower Court decided
that the lady, in taking hold of a fellow
passenger's hand, had done all that was
necessary, and that under the circum
stance, she was not obliged to stretch
ud to the strap. It awarded her about
$.-,0u0, and the Supreme Court, review
ing the case, declines to interfere. It is
a question of some sociological impor
tance to know how this decision would
be received by the sex. At first glance
it looks like a declaration in favor of
woman's rights, but it will scarcely
stand analysis as such. It amounts
really to the official proclamation that
woman shall remain cram pod, barreled
up, and nnable to lift her arms, and
content only with clinging to some
other persons hand for support. And
this is what modern dress amounts to.
The Story or a Wlerd-Lookina; Picture.
A stranger came recommended to a
merchant's house at Lubeck. He was
hospitably received; but. the house
being full, he was lodged at night it an
apartment handsomely furnished, but
not often used. There was nothing
that struck him particularly in the room
when left alone, till he happened to cast
his eyes on a picture which immediate
ly arrested his attention. It was a sin
gle head; but there was something so
uncommon, so frightful and unearthly,
in its expression, though by no means
ugly, that he found himself irresistably
attracted to look at it. In fact, he could
not tear himself Irom the fascination of
this portrait, till his imagination was
tilled by it, and his rest broken. He
retire! to bed. dreamed, and awoke
from time to time w ith the head glaring
on him.
In the morning his host saw by his
looks that he had slept ill, and inquired
the cause, w hich was told. The master
of the house was much vexed, and said
that the picture ought to have been re
moved, that it was an oversight, ami
that it always was removed w hen the
chamber was used. The picture, he
said, was, indeed terrible to every one;
but it was so fine, and had come into
the family iu so curious a way, that he
could not make up his mind to part
w ith it, or to destroy it. The story of
it was this:
"My father," said he, " was at Ham
burg on business, and. while dining at
a coffee house, he observed a ycuug
man of a remarkable appearance enter,
seat himself alone in a corner, and com
menee a solitary meal. Iliscountenance
bespoke the extreme of mental distress,
and every now and then he turned his
head quickly round as if he heard some
thing, then shudder, grow pale, and go
on w ith his meal after an effort as be
fore. My father saw this same man at
the same place for two or three succes
sive days, and at length became so much
interested about him that he spoke to
him. The address was not repulsed,
and the stranger seemed to find some
comfort from the tone of sympathy and
kindness which my father used. He
was an Italian, well-informed, poor, but
not destitute, and living economically
upon the profits of his art as a painter.
"Their intimacy increased; and at
length lhe Italian, seeing my father's
involuntary emotion at his convulsive
turnings and shuddering', which con
tinued as formerly, interrupting their
conversation from tfme to time, told
him his story. He wasa nativeof Rome
and had lived in some familiarity with,
and been much patronized by, a young
nobleman ;but upon some slight occasion
they had fallen out, and his patron, be
side using many reproach ful expressions
had struck him. The pointer brooded
over thedisgraceof the Mow. Hecould
not challenge the nobleman, on account
of his rank; therefore watched fi r an
opportunity, and assassinated him. Of
course he fled from his country, and
finally reached Hamburg.
''He had not, however, passed many
weeks from the night of the murder, lie
fore, one day, in the crowded street, he
heard his name called bya voice (""miliar
to him; he turned short round, and saw
the face of his victim looking at him,
with fixed eye. From that moment he
had no peace; at all hours, in all places,
and amid all companies, however en
gaged he might be, he heard the voice,
and could never help looking round;
and, whenever he so looked round, he
always encountered the same face star
ing close upon him. At last in a mood
of desperation, he had fixed himself
face to face, and eye to eye, and deliber
ately draw n the phantom visage as it
glared upon him; and this was the
picture so drawn. The Italian said he
had struggled long, but life was a bur
den which he could no longer bear; and
he was resolved, when he hail made
money enough to return ,to Rome, to
surrender himself to justice, and expiate
his crime on the scaffold. He gave the
finished picture to my father, in return
for tne kindness which he had shown
him."
The lnoonol tl Lady.
She lives down on liaker street, anil
she has a daughter about eighteeu
years old. The old lady retains all her
simplicity and innocence, and she does
not go two cents on style. The other
evening, when a "splendid catch"
called to escort the daughter to the
opera, the mother wouldn't take the
hint to keep still, and would not help
carry out the daughter's idea that they
had wealth. While helping her daugh
ter to get ready she asked :
"Mary, are you going to wear the
shoes with one heel off, or the pair with
holes in 'em?"
"Mary didn't seem to hear, and the
mother inquired :
"Are you going to wear that dollar
gold chain and that washed locket, or
will you w ear that diamond your fa
ther bought at the hardware store?"
Mary winked at her and the young
man blushed, but the old lady went
on :
"Are you going to borrow Mrs.
Brown's shawl or will you wear mine?''
Mary bustled about the room and the
mother said :
"Be careful of your dress,Mary ; you
know it's the only one you've got, and
you can't have another until the mort
gage on this place is lilted."
Mary remarked to her escort that it
promised to be a beautiful evening, and
as she buttoned her gloves her mother
asked :
"Those are Mrs. Hardy's gloves.
ain't they? She's been s good neigh
bor to us, and I don't know how you'd
manage to go anywhere if she didn't
live near us."
Mary was hurrying to get out of the
room when the mother raised her
voice once more and aked :
"Did you run into Mrs. Jewett's and
borrow her bracelet and fan? Yes, I
see you did. Well, now, you look real
stylish, and I hope you'll have a good
time."
Mary sits by her window in the pale
moonlight and sighs for the splendid
young man to come and beau her round
some more, but he hasn't been seen up
that way since that night. The old
lady, too, says that be seemed like a
nice young man. and she hopes he has
not been killed bv the street cars.