Juniata sentinel and Republican. (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, September 25, 1878, Image 1

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    I
V fit
B. F. SCIIWEIER,
THE COirSTITTITIOir THE UUIOJ A5D THE EffTOBOEMEST OF THE LAWS.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXXII.
MIFFLINTOAVN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 187S.
NO. 39.
1
THE STORJf IS SUMMER.
On a sultry day in anmmtr,
When the air was parched and dry.
I was dreaming by the aeaaide.
Gazing out upon the sky.
Here and there a tinge of whiteness.
Flecked the deep ethereal bine,
lint in clouds of gloomy rtirkneas
Swiftly vanished either hue.
Soon I saw the lightnings playing
O'er the crested wares at sea ;
While the scene's majestic grandeur
Told a tale of lore to me.
Which the loudly rolling thunder.
With its grand, yet awful roar.
Through the air reverberating,
Seemed to echo o'er and o'er.
But at last the storm was oxer.
And again the sky was blue.
And again the clouds of whiteness
Lent their beauty to its hue.
Then I went my way in gladness.
Aud my soul drank in the sight.
For. to greet my grateful ruion.
Out of darkness came the light.
Sara's Lawyer.
"Rich man, poor man, beggar man,
thief, doctor, lawyer there. Bertha,
my fate is decided at last ; the daisy has
said I am to be the wile of a lawyer, so
don't be hinting to me about Seth
Chambers' attentions, and Squire Mar
vin's glances into our pew at church,"
and Sara Brady looked up into her sis
ter's face and laughed merrily.
"Hoar foolish you are, Sara," said
Mrs. Maybin, reprovingly. "Every
day you get some new freak into your
head and persist in it with the obstina
cy of of "
"A mule, why don't you say, Ber
tha?" laughed pretty Sara. "Well, as
you say. 1 do cling to au idea when my
mind is once made up. And I always
did believe in fortune telling by dai
sies, and since this daisy, the first I've
eeu this June, declares I am to marry
a lawyer, I will wait for that lawyer it
I aai gray before he comes along."
"I don't know where you ever got
such notions, Sara," answered Bertha
Maybin. "I am sure mother has tried
to bring you up just as she brought me
up, and I was a proer, studious,indus
trious girl, and at twenty-two married
Francis, who was thought au excellent
match for me, aud I am sure I have
done my duty as a wife and mother."
"Oh, nobodv disputed that, Bertha,"
said Sara. "I am sure Frank could ne
ver have found a better wife if he had
searched everywhere."
"But here you are twenty-four years
old. Sura, and with no idea of settling
yet. I o you know that you will very
soon be an old maid," with terrible
emphasis "and then where will be
your chances? Do be reasonable, Sara
and treat Seih Chambers with some
courtesy, and don't be so abrupt with
Squire Marvin. You seem to forget
that he is a rich man, owns that beau
tiful place, and drives the handsomest
horses in the county."
"I wouldn't marry a man forthe sake
of his house aud horses," said Sara.set
tiug her lips firmly together.
"But you might learn to love him,
Sara."
"Yes, I might, but I wouldn't. The
old scarecrow has six children, wears
false teeth and a wig, and inclines to
stinginess. As for Seth Chambers, I'll
wait until he has an ounce of sense in
his head before I think about him."
"But suppose mother should die, Sa
ra? You know the farm would go into
the possession of Seth at once. You
w ill be left without a cent of money or
a home. Why not see things in a rea
sonable light?"
"I could teach the district school,"
said Sara, quietly. "The Squire is one
of the trustees, and I'd let him make
love to me until I was installed, and
then give him his conge."
"Very well, Sara, persist in your ob
stinacy if you will, but recollect that
mother is sixty-five years old and can't
last very long. The doctor said last
week that she was breaking up very
fast. You won't feel verv comfortable
when you see Seth Chambers on our
comfortable farm, and find yourself
tied down to teaching the stupid, red
headed children around here."
'My lawyer may happen along,"said
Sara, blithely. "I shan't torrow trou
ble, and you needn't croak yourself
hoarse, Bertha, for it won't do any
good,"
The sisters had crossed the meadow
by this time and reached the door of
the comfortable farm house they called
home. Sara went into the kitchen to
put the kettle on for tea, and Bertha
Maybiu went to her bedroom.
" We had a nice walk over the fields,
mother," said Sara, kissing the old
lady who sat by the window, knitting.
"I am glad of it dear," was the re
ply. Mrs. Brady was too old and too much
trippled with rheumatism to help in
work of the farm-house at all, and all
devolved upon Sara, who was fond of
housekeeping and diary work, and sold
the best butter and cheese, and the fi
nest honey of anyone of her neighbors.
The farm was situated two miles from
the small town of Stockwell, and was
to revert to Seth Chambers at the death
of Mrs. Brady, to w hom it had been
left by the young man's uncle, who
had been Mrs. Brady's lover in her
young days, and dying, had remem
bered her in her poverty with her two
children to support. It was a generous
and a timely bequest, for Mrs. Brady
had just lost her second husband, and
after his funeral expenses had been
paid, found herself without a dollar in
the world, aud with two children look
ing to her for support. She took in
sewing and eked out a scanty living for
them all, and then three months later
Mr. Chambers had died, and she found
herself mistress of Blossom farm and
the owner of a dozen cows and seve
ral horses. There was also couple of
hundred dollars in the bank in her
name.
Mrs. Brady was possessed of great
executive ability, and she made the
farm "pay," but never made more than
a living for herself and two children.
Bertha had been ten years old .and Sara
only one year when they had movee to
Blossom Farm. Bertha was the child
of her first husband, and Sara of her
second. Bertha had grown up and
married and gone to the city to live,
but the first of every June aw her in
stalled at the Blossom Farm as a board
er, and she now had two children to
bring with her.
Sara Brady's happy, pleasant dispo
sition made her a general favorite in
the neighborhood, but in spite of much
attention from the sterner sex, she was
still unmarried, much to Bertha's dis
comfiture who appeared to think that
her half-sister was disgracing the fam
ily by remaining in a state of single
blessedness.
The mouth of June was passing
swiftly away, aud Sara had had two
chances to change her condition. Seth
Chambers had lieeu the first to bring
matters to a focus, and had made Sara
a very bashful proposal, to which she
had said "no" very decidedlv.
Bertha had been angry, very angry,
and had, as she expressed it, "spoken
her mind" to Sara. To throw away
such a chance of keeping Blossom Farm
in the family, was, in her ttpinion, cb
solutely criminal. Perhaps Bertha
looked forward to the time w hen she
would have to take board elsewhere for
the summer, aud didu't fancy the idea
at all of having no Hlossom Farm to go
to, where she could make herself thor
oughly at home.
"You are crazy to refuse him, Sara.
Haven't 1 warned you how you will be
left an old maid, penniless, homeless,
aud good heavens. What do you ex
pect "
"I expect my lawyer," coolly inter
rupted Sara, kneading up the bread,
with arms bared to the elbow, and lis
tening with a smile to her half-sister's
lecture.
"That is the craziest notion, Sara. I
do wish we had never taken that walk,
and you had never found that horrid
little daisy. It does seem too ridiculous
to talk about."
"Theu dou't talk about it,' said Sara.
"But you can't really mean, Sara,
that you will throw away good chan
ces just for the sake of such a silly no
tion." "I mean that I shall wait for my law
yer," said Sara, still smiling.
'You are just the one to cling to an
idea of that sort, but I think you ought
to have more sense. If Seth had been
a lawyer would you have had him?"
"I didn't say that I'd have any law
yer," auswered Sara. "I mean to pick
and choose my lawyer. I pulled every
leaf off the daisy aud it left the last one
a lawyer, so I shall wait for my lawyer
until my lawyer comes."
"Horrors I" cried Berth, "dou't use
that word again. I'm sick of it. I do
not feel as if I ever cared to meet one
of the profession again."
When, on the last day of June Squire
Marvin drove up to the farm-house
gate, hitched his horses they certain
ly were handsome creatures-and aked
to see Miss Sara, Ben ha knew what he
bad come for. Surely that could be
told easily, for never hail his wig been
more carefully brushed, or shoes of a
shinier asect. Yes, the Squire had
come a courting. He told Sara his lit
tle story, without, however, mention
ing his six children and his sixty years
such little unpleasant facts are best
kept out of mind and waited for her
answer.
Sara olitely thanked bim for the
honor he had done her, but said she did
not care to marry at present. Argu
ments were of no avail, aud the squire
left the house, his dejected asject tell
ing the peeping Bertha what fate his
tale of love had met.
"So you've refused the Squire," sjc
said, entering the parlor before Sara
bad had time to fly to a more stcure
nook, where Bertha could not pene
trate. "Well, you have taken your
own stubborn course, Sara Brady, and
you'll have only yourself to thank
when you are penniless and an old
maid, with your pretty looks all gone."
"I won't spend much time thaiikint;
myself," replied Sara. "I'll get a bot
tle of 'Bloom of Youth,' paint my faded
cheeks, and go to work at the district
school."
"It may be a laughing matter now,
Sara, but it won't be then," said Ber
tha severely.
"It makes me almost hate you to
have you refuse that rich man, who
owns those lovely horses "
"And those lovely ,red-headed, freck
led children," interrupted Sara.
"What of that? Io you expect a
prince? Are you waiting for a king to
come by and sue for your hand ?"
"No, but I'm waiting for my law
yer," answered Sara.
It was only a few days after the
Squire's proposal that an old school
friend of Sara's invited her to come to
a town a tew miles off and pay a visit.
Sara decided to go.but only for a week,
Bertha declining to take charge of the
household aflairs of Blossom Farm for
a longer period. The week was heart
ily enjoyed by the girl, who returned
home refreshed and invigorated by the
change.
"Sara," said Bertha, at the tea-table
on the first evening of her return, "I
have some news for you. Your law
yer has actually come at last."
"I knew he would," said Sara, smi
ling. "Yes, he is a Mr. Ellsworth Elliott,
and is staying at the Crown-and-Shield,
in Stockwell. He came over
here with Seth Chambers the very
night after you left, and has been here
four times since. 1 guess he fancies
your honey, for I had him stay to tea."
"He must be very intellectual, since
he has chosen Seth for a companion,"
said sarcastic Sara.
"Oh, he only got acquainted w ith
Seth by accident. He is a stranger
here, you see."
"I like his name," said Sara.
And she soon liked Mr. Ellsworth
Elliott, and he was worthy her liking.
Tall, handsome, with pleasing man
ners, and a thoroughbred gentleman, it
was small wonder that he quickly won
Sara's heart. Nor was her love given
u n returned, for Ell&worth Elliott was
attracted at once by her pretty face and
amiable character, and the longer he
knew her the more he found to admire
in her. Weeks passed by until the sum
mer was over, and fall was throwing a
brown mantle over the earth, and all
too quickly had it goue to the lovers.
Sara felt as if she had never before
known the beauty and value of life,
and w hen Ellsworth told her how dear
ly he loved her, she felt as if life were
t4H sweet to last.
"I tolj you I would marrv a lawyer,
Bertha," said she, when telling her
mother and sister of her engagement.
"Well, I am sure I am pleasud," said
Bertha. "I didn't believe you would
find him, but since you have. I wish
you joy and a speedy wedding."
"He must return to his law office
next week," said Sara, "but he will re
turn in November and take me away.
I shall final v adhere to daisy fortune
telling hereafter, and guide myself by
what my first June daisy tells me.
Never shall I forget to find one as the
years roll by."
In November Sara was married, and
on her breast she wore a knot of daisies
and Ellsworth smiled when he saw
them, for of course she had told him of
l.er fortune telling.
They went at once tothe pretty house
which the young husband had made
ready for his bride in the city, and the
quiet elegance of which sent Sara into
testacies ot delight.
After they were fairly settled to
housekeeping Sara said one morning to
her husband :
'Ellsworth, I want to go down town
to day, and see your law office."
'You won't find much law about it,
Sara," he answered, "nothing but
grain, hay and bran."
"Why, Ellsworth, what do you
mean ?"
"That I am not a lawyer, Sara, my
dear, but a commission merchant. Let
me explain to you. I went to Stock
well to pass the summer, fish,huntaud
enjoy myself. I met your sister, who
told me about you, told me about your
fancy about the lawyer, and just for
tun I proposed passing for one. After
I learned to love you I would have told
you what my business was. but Bertha
made me promise not to do so. She
was afraid you would back out, I sup
pose. Do you feel sorry I played the
hoax.Sara?"
"No, I don't care at all. I love you
now. and it makes no difference."
''But you will never believe in dai
sies again, will you ?"
"Indeed I shall." she cried with en
ergy. "How could the poor little dai
sies tell if it was a bogus or a genuine
lawyer I would get?"
The "Groves of Rlaraey.'
Th? celebrated "Groves of Blarney"
make up the park adjacent to the castle.
They are noted for their magnificent
trees, shrubbery and flowers, unsur
passed probably in Ireland for pictur
esque beauty and charming landscape
effects. We saw nothing equal to them
elsewhere. Some of the grand old elm
trees are at least five feet in diameter
and fifteen in circumference, with out
spreading branches covering a space of
more than one hundred feet- Nearly
every tree in the grove is festooned with
ivy from Its roots to its topmost branches.
The grounds, the lawns, the meaJows
and the pastures are covered with wild
flowers, among them the rhododendron,
which was seen in its perfection, cf
various shades, more beautiful than the
specimens exhibited at the Centennial
Exposition in Philadelphia. The white
blossoming hawthorn grows here to the
altitude ot a good-sized pear tree, which
It much resembles. The red hawthorn,
which grows to the height of twenty or
thirty feet, is a gorgeous tree now in
full bloom. The furze bushes, about
the size of our mountain inure!, grow
up spontaneously all over the country,
aud its bright yellow flowers, now in
bloom, are a prominent feature of the
landscape. The "Groves of Blarney,'
adjoining the ca6tle, it is said, were
formerly adorned with statues, grottoes,
fountains, and bridges, but if so these
have entirely disappeared, and there
are no vestiges of them now, except the
modern bridges, which are all of stone
and very substantial. But we have the
flowers, the same as ever, in all the
freshness of their ancient beauty.
Hae Tarantula.
The Fort Worth Standard corrects
some talse impressions in regard to this
mammoth spider. The tarantula, a
species of spider, may be found in great
numbers on our prairies. If water is
poured into their holes they will come
to the surface for air, and may be
caught with a sharp stick. We have
asked a number of oid tettlers if these
tarantulas were dangerous, and thus
far have heard of no one being bitten.
They keep in their boles during the
day and forage for insects during the
night. The mouth is near the centre
of the body, near the ground, and it
cannot bite unless it springs upon you.
The tarantula is a much-abused inof
fensive spider, that attends to its own
business. The last remark might ap
ply as well to the rattlesnake, whose
motto is given as " Don't tread on
me." All beasts and reptiles are harm
less towards those who do not happen
to come in contact with them. What
is known as the tarantula in Texas and
other southern States is quite as large
and formidable as its Italian cousin, of
the poison of which so many miracu
lous stories used to be told. The Texas
tarantula has the form of a spider, with
a body two inches long, and an extent
of legs amounting to four inches. Na
turalists say, " Its poison is active, and
might cause troublesome symptoms in
man, if the fangs could be opened at an
angle to pierce the skin. Cases of per
sons having been bitten by them, as
well as by smaller poisonous spiders,
appear to be well authenticated, though
Aquarians.
The first step taken to establish an
aquarium - was made by the British
Zoological Society w hich set up a few-
tanks aud made a small collection of
fresh water fish, though the collection
never went very far. Then the Parisi
ans started a larger aquarium in the
Bois de Bolonge, and a marine one
was instituted at Arcachon during
the period of the Maratime Exhibition.
The major part of this, however, was
devoted to shell fih. Boulogne followed
suit as did Havre. None of these aquaria
howeverare not worth more than a pass
ing notice. Coucarueau also attracted
attention at this time, but these were
rather vivers than aquaria, being large
square basil. s into which the tide flowed
and w here l.-irge turbot, crazy fish, &e
4c, were kept alive. Then Hamburg
made its mark under the management
of Mr. W. A. Lloyd, who managed to
render it very successful. Theu fol
lowed Berlin. Next the Brighton qua
rium was projected, and the Crystal
Palace constructed one under the man
agement of Mr. Llovd and the people of
Hastings determined to follow the ex
ample. Southport caught the infection,
and carried out a very fine project, in
cluding winter gardens, concert rooms
and an aquarium. Next came Man
chester, under the able supervision of
Mr. Saville Kent. Then Naples and
several others on the continent were
called into being; and the Westminster
Palace, under the able nianagemement
of Mr. Robertson, included under the
title of aquarium not only au aquarium
but theatricals, acrobatics, conjurations
and mighty magic, for the exhibition of
which Mr. Robertson could certainly
have run the risk of being roasted by
our intelligent forefathers. Rothesay
followed, but this is a small concern,
though it attracts large crowds of ex
cursionists and perhaps pays a better
dividend than any of them. The ex
pense was small, aud continues to be
kept small; no money which can be
made available for dividends being
wasted. Next, Scarborough made a
start, and the great Yorkshire water
ing place erected a very handsome
aquarium, but somehow they do not
seem to get on with it satisfactorily,
and have contrived to fall out with the
town authorities. Birmingham Is the
latest projector of an aquarium, but
that is still In embryo. None of them,
however, can equal that at Brighton,
whether as regards the great range of
accommodation, the beauty and bril
liancy of the tanks or the great variety,
rarity aud abundance of the specimens
of fi.-h exhibited. There the student of
ichthyological science may gather ob
servations and facts in the natural his
tory of fish both old and new and
strange. The fish are made to feel the
loss of their liberty as slightly as pos
sible, the conditions of their artificial
abiding places being assimilated as
closely as possible to their natural ones,
and the manner in which the most of
them thrive shows that they do not in
any way miss their liberty, while the
perfect freedom and case with which
the spawning operations of many of the
fish are conducted season after season,
gives forcible evidence in the same di
rection. Larger fish in many of the
species may he seen in the Brighton
Aquarium than are ever brought to
market by fishermen, and the rapidity
of growth made by some of them an
sa's to be almost unexampled. For
instance, sea trout, after their first
journey to the sea, would, in a state of
freedom, be thought to have made a
fairly good growth if they reached one
and a half or two pounds within the
next year. Sea trout have been taken
oil' the Brighton coast in their first mi
gration, and, being placed in the tanks
of the Aquarium, have grown up to five
and six pounds weight within the
twelvemonth, thus throwing a positive
light upon the capacity of growth in
the Salmonida" upon which we were
previously doubtful and uncertain.
Messenger Mike's Umbrella.
"1 say, Mister Jones!" said Mike
the Messenger.
" Don't bother me now, Mike," re
plied the clerk from behind a mound of
affidavits. ' Wait until I'm done."
Mike returned to the private examination-room
and busied himself with his
collar. He wore a new one this morn
ing, a" PiccadiIIa"of the usual variety,
and, naturally enough it required ex
traordinary efforts to keep it under con
trol. " Now, Mike, what do you want to
know?" said Clerk Jones, when his
work was over.
" What I want to know, Mr. Jones,
is, did you ever lend an umbrella?"'
" Did I ever lend an umbrella? Well,
really I don't remember," slowly re
plied Mr. Jones, I might have been
Kuilty of it in the days when "I was
guileless and innocent, and didn't
know any better. But that's so long
ago that I almost forgot it. Why do
you ask, Mike?"
"Well because I lent my umbrella
the other day."
"To whom?"
"To a reporter."
" Well, it serves you right you
don't get it back. The idea! to lend
anything to a reporter!''
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Dick. "He
sent it back. But it's like adding in
sult to injury. On Decoration Day af
ternoon became in, and says he, 'Dick,
lend me your umbrella for a minute ;
I want to go over to the prison.' I told
him I needed it myself, and he says,
'Only for a minute; I'll owe you a
chew of tobacco on pay day.' So I gave
it to him. I waited until 6 o'clock, and
then I had to walk home in all that
rain, I had to walk in the rain during
the whole of last week. This morning
the fellow sent me the umbrella 'with
many thanks,' I am afraid his paper,
won't get any court news to-day,
for dead, or alive, if I catch him in
here I'll make an end of him. I'll
give him 'many thanks,' "
"No, no," Mike, said Mr. Jones, don't
do anything rash. " You'll be the
heaviest sufferer. "I'll tell you why.
First, you ought not to have lent the
umbrella. A man of your age ought
to know better. Secondly, you ought
not to have lent it to a reporter. They're
as tricky as "
" Tricky !" interrupted Mike," " Did
you ever hear the trick they played on
me?" Listen. Three 'o them asked me
one night to go out aud hava a couple
o' drinks with them. We went into one
place, had three or four drinks, and
when the barkeeper looked up for pay,
they showed their badges, and said,
" We're the press, and the barkeeper
said, Thank you, gentlemen, won't
you take another before you go?' We
went to several places, and everywhere
the reporters acted in the same way.
" That's a splendid racket you fellow's
've got, said I.' 'Oh, said they, you
can work it better than that. " How,'
says I, "Go into a place, drink all you
want and when they ask you for money
say I'm the police.' That's even better
than our racket."
" Not long after that some friends o'
mine came from Ireland, and I showed
them the town. They thought I was a
Deputy Supreme Court Justice or some
thing of that sort. I made up my mind
I was going to try the racket and went
into a fine place, drank as much as we
liked, and when we thought we had
enough I buttoned up my coat, and
said to the barkeeper, 'I'm the police,'
and walked to the door. Well, it took
three days before I got the kinks out of
my spiual column and the mourning off
my eye. Later I heard that the re
porters, expecting that I would go and
burn my lingers, had on the night they
took me out all gone to the places be
forehand and paid for the drinks in ad
vance. That's why the barkeeper let
them go."
" Well," said Clerk Jones, "that is
just like them. They have a natural
inclination for laying it on to somebody.
Through a simple concatenation of the
phenomena which happen in their di
urnal and hebdomadal circuit, of duties,
it conies to pass that as the Latin pro
verb has it, 'Adde jjantm parro.' "
' Hold on a moment, Mister Jones !"
" ilaynu well, let's try it in another
way. All forces in nature are either in
the fit vuo ante Vellum, or "
" Hold ou !" shrieked Mike. " Wait
till I get my collar down."
"What's the matter?" asked his
Honor.
" Oh, Mike's got 'em at last," whis
pered the clerk.
"I expeeted this all along, Mike.
Now I suppose you took lager as an
eyeopener this morning. That's worse
than whisky. I give you fair warning
now. Don 't come near me in that s'ate
anymore, otherwise you'll be sent down
to the prison the same as any other of
fender." "And all this comes of having had
intercourse with these reporters," sad
ly mused Mike as he retired to wipe his
heated brow.
llow a Woman Buys Meat.
There is so much of "human natur"
in the following, that we doubt not
not many of our fair readers will gent
ly smile, if not "laugh right out," as
they read it :
Wbcu a worn 11 enters a butcher
shop to select a piece of meat for din
ner, she has her mind made up to take
mutton roast. Therefore, when the
butcher rubs his hands, and asks what
she will have, she promptly replies:
"I'll take some that mut "
She stops there. Her eye has caught
sight of ham, and she suddenly decides
to take ham.
"Best ham I ever saw, madam; how
much ?"
'Well, you may give me three
Well, I don't know either. My
band was saying he'd like some
sage."
"Plenty, madam. Now, then, how
much will you have?"
"It's pork sausage, is it?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well, I suppose a pound would be
enough for our small family ; bnt but
"Shall I weigh a pound, madam ?"
'I was wondering if a veal pot-pie
wouldn't suit him better," she an
swered. ' You have veal, I suppose?"
"O, yes, madam ; here's a splendid
bit of veal, as good a piece as I ever
saw."
"Yes, that does look like veal," she
says, lifting it up.
"And you'll take it?"
"Let's see," she muses. 'Y no, I
guess not. I'd better take pork chops."
"Nice chops how much?" he asks.
"One of those slices w ill weigh a
pound, I suppose?"
"About a pound, madam."
"And it was a young hog?"
"Quite youngish, madam "
"And you cut the rind off?"
"Yes, madam."
"Well." she says, heaving a deep
sigh, "I guess you may give me some
beefsteak some that's nice, and be
snre and cut all the bone out!"
And she's only been half an hour
coming to the point.
The Familj Hammer.
No well regulated family pretends to
do without a hammer. And yet there
Is nothing goes to make up an equip
ment of a domestic establishment that
causes one-half as much agony and pro
fanity as a hammer. It is always au old
hammer, with a handle that is inclined
to sliver, and always bound to slip.
The face is as round as a full moon and
as smooth as glass. When it glides off
a nail and mashes a finger, we unhesi
tatingly deposit it in the back yard, and
observe that we will never nse it again
But the blood has hardly dried on the
rag before we are In search of that same
hammer again, and ready to make an
other trial. The result rarely varies,
but we never profit by it. The awful
weapon goes on knocking off our nails,
and mashing whole joints and slipping
off the handle to the confusion of man
tel ornaments, and breaking the com
mandments. Yet we put up with It,
and put the handle on again, and lay it
away where It won't get lost, and do up
our smarting and mutilated fingers;
and. after all, if the outrageous thing
should disappear, we kick up a terrible
hullabaloo until it is found again.
Talk about the tyraoiaing Influence of
a bad habit I It is not to be compared
to the family hammer.
Saved by a ttnOklo.
The buffaloes of India are domestica
ted. Though uncertain as to their tem
per towards strangers they are very
much attached to their keepers. Reared
from the day of their birth in the hut ol
their master they grow up with the
children aud cling to them through life.
A buffalo bull will defend his master
from the attack of a tiger, and a buffalo
cow once saved her master by her at
tachment to him.
Among the prisoners taken by the
English troops, 011 the day after they
had thrashed a rebel chief, was a man
with a wife, a motherand a buffalo cow.
He was not a soldier but a camp-follower.
The women were let go, the
cow dashed into the jungle, and the
man marched off.
The march was a long, hot one,
through valleys and over hills. But the
buffalo never lost sight of her master,
though she would not come near the
soldiers.
While marching through the thick
jungle, the man would now and then
give a call. Immediately the faithful
buffalo, answering with a grunt, would
come crushing through the thicket.
When she saw the redcoats of the sol
diers, she would stop, utter a bellow
and disappear.
About the middle of the afternoon
the troops halted by the side of a small
stream. All were tired hot and hungry,
The native looking at the commander,
said,
" Sahib if yon w 111 untie my hands, I
will give you all milk."
His hand were untied, and he called
to his buffalo. She came out of the
jungle but would not approach the
troops.
"Shahib," said the mnn, "you must
let me go to her; she will not come
near you. I will not run away."
"Very well," replied the officer,
' You shall go to her. But mind, if
you run, this rifle never misses. You'll
drop dead before you've gone three
yards."
Taking a brass drinklng-vessel from
one of the men, the native went to his
buffalo, milked her and returned. The
milk was very refreshing to the tired
men, and the officer was grateful. He
determined to release his prisoner.
That evening the native was told to
be off. With a low prostration he mur
mured a blessing on the officer's head,
and bounded into the jungle. The last
heard of him was his call to the buffalo
and her answering grunt as she ran to
meet him.
Sacred Rivers.
Egypt, the land of enigmas to the
solution of which our modern era is so
zealously devoted fosters, in the bed
of the gigantic Nile, the source of her
existence and maintenance. This river,
by its fructifying freshets, not only
maintained all those who inhabited
these regions in good condition physi
cally, but by the regularity of their oc
currence exci'eJ the Egyptians to be
come the first astronomers of the world
and the first surveyors of boundaries.
Just as this river flows from hitherto
unknot n sources, so the origin of the
Egyptians as a iieople is enveloped in
darkness. Through the regions of co
lossal stone quarries the Nile winds its
way. These quarries, in ancient times,
supplied the needful material for gigan
tic structures, the grandeur of which
with regard to time anil dimensions,
was awe-inspiring. The river forms
the cataract and rapids of Assuan, and
from thence to theDelta is the benefac
tor of the country. With great predi
lection, the old Egyptians would paint
their Nile, raised to a divinity like
Neptnne, " the old man of the sea,"
surrounded by sixteen children, accord
ing to the number of yards his water
will have to rise ere he becomes a bene
factor. The billows of the Nile rushed
under the boy Moses before the daugh
ter of Pharaoh raised him up. When
afterwards the young Israelite, accom-pli.-hed
with Egyptian learning, dwelt
ujon the banks of the Nile, his eyes
may have often watched the billows of
that river which once were his cradle.
Lotos flowers exhale fragrance and
glitter with their rosy calyx whenever
the magic sound of the name of the
river Ganges thrills the ear. Whatever
poesy, glowing fancy and love can in
stil into the heart of a poet has been
sung on the banks of the Ganges and of
the Ganges. Not only "Lakontala"
and ' I'rvasi," the charming fairy-tales
of Kalidasas," but also the poems of
modern lyrics, lead us to the banks of
the Ganges as the most beautiful spot
011 earth. Imagining its waters to pro
ceed from the feet of Braf.a, the ancient
inhabitants of India represented their
stream in their numerous works of
sculpture as a holy person; a drink of
the sweet waters of the Ganges would
preserve ne from the dreaded metem
;ycAir, and a dead body floating in
the billows of its waters maybe a dis
gusting sight to strangers, but its spirit
enjoys immediate affinity with the most
exalted Godhead.
Through Palestine flows the river
Jordan, whosebanks have been so often
reached only alter inexpressible pain
and suffering. The aim of the Crusad
ers, and the thousandfold repeated
prayer of those who remained at home,
was to possess a flask of water from
the river Jodan. Baptism with such
holy water was considered an in
valuable advantage, but with al
most moroe sadness some of the
bold wanderers saw this river streaming
through the lovely lake of Genesareth,
and then ending its course in the Dead
Sea. The latter the Bible calls the
place where St. John baptized Jesus,
and this circumstance gave to the Jor
dan, the waters of which were per
mitted to be used in the baptism of
Christ, a bright halo of sacred ness.
In the south of Russia rolls the broad
majestic flood of the holy "Mother
Volga " (thus the South Russian calls,
with his well-known predilection for
pet names, his river), the largest stream
in Europe. The Neva,, though but
thirty-two miles in length, enjoys a
similar favoritism; but although its
very agreeably tasting waters, filled in
bottles, accompanied muiy Russian
travelers on their tours.and although in
former times the Czar received from
the commander of the post a goblet
filled with .this water which was re
turned filled with gold immediately
after the report from a cannon's mouth
had proclaimed the bursting of the ice,
no one else ever applied the adjective
" holy " to this river.
" To the Rhine, to the Rhine, go not
to the Rhine," thus counsels the sor
rowing father the ever-wandering son.
But the broad torrent, with its green
waters, and its golden wine, and moun
tains ever clad in sun-illumineJ ver
dure, has a bewitching, alluring power.
The proverbially long bills w hich are
shown up to the haughty stripling, like
threatening goblins, have not yet beeu
able 10 break one gem in the lustrous
crown with which the Teutons in their
hearts are crownitur the beauteous brow
of their holy river Rhine.
Hunting; the Dogfish.
The increase of the dogfish in many
European waters, and the consequently
greater destruction of fish by these rob
bers, has led to many controversies
lately among the fishermen respecting
the means of destroying them. Some
of the most interested suggested the
granting of a premium for each dogfish
killed, as the hunting does not pay for
the trouble of the catches, and very few
fishermen can be induced to make it a
special branch of their fishiug. The
Genua Ftihery Gazette describes some
of the methods used formerly in hunt
ing these fish. A very simple way of
hunting the dogfish has been used for
the last twenty years by alluring the
dogfish to come close up to the hunter,
stationed upon a sand-bank by the
means of imitating their movements
when the dogfish is knocked down and
killed with a cudgel. More than one
hundred are known to have been killed
in one summer by a single hunter, who
easily enticed them upon the dry sand
bank. The hunters very seldom make
any use of the gun, as the sound of the
discharge disperses them at once; only
old dogfish have to be shot, as they are
too ily to be caught by the tricks of
the hunters. Another more ancient
method was by sharp-pointed spears,
fastened to a chain, which was spread
around the edges of a sand-bank upon
which the dogfish were accustomed to
assemble and sun themselves. The
spears were pointed inward, at a cer
tain distance from each other, aud in
order not to topi-le over or fall back
ward, fastened to a small iron plate in
the shape of a duck's foot, the whole se
curely buried in the sand. The dogfish
arrive at the sand-bank as soon as the
water leaves the top dry, and settle
themselves inide the chain and spears,
these being still covered over by the
water. Before the latter get fn of it,
the hunters arrive in a boat aud make
a noise, when the dogfish, in trying to
get off the sand-bank, rush direct upon
the spears, and those nor killed outright
are knocked down with a club. As
many as twenty have in this mannei
been caught at one time, but this mode
catching them has been discontinued
for smetime, partly because it was con
sidered very cruel, and partly on ac
count of the chains and spears being
lost frequently, if continuous stormy
weather prevented the sand-bank from
getting drv. An easy way of catching
the dogfish happens sometimes at the
mouth of the River Elbe and in the
North Watt, when they assemble upon
a sand-bank, having a kind of groove
running into it, w hich in these parts
occurs often. The hunters have only
to run their boat slowly toward the
groove and spread a sturgeon net at the
entrance, when most of the dogfish get
entangled in the net upon their at
tempting to escape, and are then easily
killed. The Two Dromios Again.
Two brothers in St. Louis resemble
each other so exactly that it is with
great difficulty they tell themselves
apart. How others are confused is il
lustrated by the following story :
It is a rule in the Circuit Court that
but one attorney on each side shall ex
amine witnesses. In a recent trial in
which Thomas A Thomas were engag
ed, this rule was violated in a very dex
terous manner. Stepping to one side
as if for private consultation, they ex
changed chairs, and no one could tell
that it was the sams one who had before
occupied the seat. In this way they re
lieved each other, while the lawyer on
the other side had to stop from exhaus
tion. "Mr. Thomas," said a circuit judge
a short time ago, "are you ready to ar
gue that motion now ?"
"What motion, your honor?"
"The motion you spoke of yesterday."
"Your honor, I was not in the court
room yesterday."
"Your memory must be very short,
sir. I saw you here."
"Not me, your honor."
"I know it was you; and if you trifle
with the court I shall have to flue you
for contempt, sir."
"Your honor, it was my motion,"
said the other Thomas, entering the
room. The judge looked at the two
Thomases in amazement, and, recover
ing his good humor, remarked that na
ture had committed a plagiarism in the
case of one of them, he couldn't tell
which.
Ice mad.
In no Christian country, perhaps,
with the sole exception of Lapland, are
the clergy so poor as in Iceland ; but In
none do they exert a more beneficial in
fluence. Though the island has but one
public school, at Reykjavik, jet per
haps in no country Is elementary educa
tion more generally diffused. Every
mother teaches her children to read and
write, and a peasant, after having pro.
Tided for the wants of his family by the
work of his hands, loses no opportunity
in his leisure hours, of inculcating a
sound morality. In these praiseworthy
efforts the parents are supported by the
pastor.
About the Heart.
The human heart has been considered
by many of the dying in past times as a
votive gift peculiarly sacred. And
miny instances are on record of the
burial of the heart apart from the place
where the ashes of the body might re
pose. One of the earliest instances of
this mode of heart burial is that of
Henry II. of England. He died in a
passion of grief before the altar of the
church of Chinon in 1139. Ills heart
was interred at Fontevrault, but his
body, from the nostrils of which tradi
tion alleges blood to have dropped ou
the approach of bis rebellious son Rich
ard, was laid in a separate vault. When
Richard Cteur de Lion it 11 beneath
Gourdan's arrow at the siege of Chalwy,
the gallant heart which, in its greatness
and mercy, inspired him to forgive and
even to reward the luckless archer, was,
after his death preserved in a casket in
the treasury of the cathedral which
William the Conqueror built in Rouen ;
for Richard by a last will directed that
bis body should be interred in Fontev
rault, "at the feet of his father, to tes
tify his sorrow for the uneasiness he
had given him during his lifetime."
He bequeathed his heart to Normandy,
out of his great love for the people
thereof. In Scotland there have been
many instances of the separate burial
of the human heart. The earliest
known is that connected with the found
ing and erection of New Abbey by
Derargilla, daughter of Allan, the Cel
tic lord of Gallaway, and wife of John
Baliol, father of the competitor for the
Scottish crown. Baliol, to whom she
was deeply attached, died an exile in
France in 12G9, but Derargilla had his
heart embalmed, and as the Scotichroni
con records, "lokyt and bunden with
sylver brycht," and this she always
carried about with her. In 1239, as
death approached, she directed that
"this silent and daily companion in life
for twenty years should be laid upou
her bosom when she was buried in the
abbey she had founded. During the
repair of Christ's church at Cork (Ire
land) in 1819, a human heart, in a lead
en case, was found imbedded among the
masonry; but to whom it had belonged,
what was its story, the piety or love its
owner wished to commemorate, no le
gend or inscription remained to tell.
W hen the body of the Emperor Napo
leon was prepared for Interment at St.
Helena, in May, 1S21, the heart was re
moved by a medical officer, to be solder
ed up in a case. Mme. Bertrand, in her
grief and enthusiasm, had made some
vow, or expressed a vehement desire, to
obtain possession of this as a precious
relic, and the doctor, fearing that some
trick might be played him, and his com
mission be thereby imperilled, kept it
all night in his own room in a glass
dish. The noise of broken glass aroused
him from a waking doze, and he started
forward, only in time to rescue the
heart of the Emperor from a huge
brown rat, which was dragging it across
the floor to its bole. It was rescued by
the doctor, soldered np in a silver urn,
filled with spirits by Sergeant Abraham
Millington of the St. Helena artillery,
and placed in a casket. In 1774 Sir
Francis Dash wood received the singu
lar bt quest of a human heart, as the
obituaries of that year record, that when
"Paul Whitehead, Esq., a gentleman
much admired by the literati for his
publications, uicd at his apartments in
Henrietta street, Covent Garden, London
among other whimsical legacies was his
heart, which with 50, he bequeathed 10
his lordship."
The Bed-
The bed is not only a place of rest,
it is especially our sleeping garment,
and has often to make up for privations
endured during the day and the day's
work, and to give us strength for to
morrow. You know all the different
substances and materials used for it.
They are the same as our garments are
made from. Like them, the bed must
be airy and warm at the same time.
We warm the bed by our body just as
we warm our clothes, and the bed
warms the air which is constantly flow
ing through it from below upward.
The regulating strata must be more
Iowerful in their action than in our
day clothes, because during re.t and
sleep the metamorphosis of our tissues
and resulting heat becomes less, ami
because in a horizontal position we
lose more heat by an ascending current
of air than in a vertical position, where
the warm ascending eurrent is in more
complete and longer contact with our
upright body. The warmth of the bed
sustains the circulation in our surface
to a certain degree for the benefit of
our internal organs, at a time when our
production of heat is at the lowest ebb,
hence the importance of the bed for our
heat and blood econemy. Several days
without rest in a bed not only makes us
sensible of a deficiency in the leeruit
ing of our strength, but very often pro
duces quite noticeable perturbations in
our bodily economy, which the bed
would have protected us from.
Excellent Interest Rules.
Finding the interest on any princi
pal for any number of days. The an
swer in each case being cents, separate
the two right hand figures of the an
swer to express it in dollars and cents.
Four per cent. Multiply the principal
by the number of days to run ; separate
right hand figure from product nd di
vide by 9. Five ir cent. Multiply
by number of days and divide by 72.
Six percent. Multiply by number of
days and divide by 43. Eight percent.
Multiply by number of days and di
vide by 45. Nine per cent. Multiply
by number of days ; separate right hand
figure, and divide by G. Ten per cent.
Multiply by number of days and di
vide by 30. Twelve per cent. Multi
ply by number of days; separate right
band figure and divide by 3. Fifteen
percent. Multiply number of t'aysand
divide by 24. Eighteen per cent. Mul
tiply by nuaiber of days ; separate right
hand figure and divide by 2. Twenty
per cent. Multiply by number of das s
and divide by 8. Twenty-four per cent.
Multiply by number of days and di
vide by 15. t