isiiii
AIM
4jw
i.
B. F. SCHWEIER,
THE OONSTmmOH THE 115103 AST) TEE ESTOBOEMUT OF THE LAVS.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXXIY.
MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., WEDNESDAY, MAY 26, 1SS0.
NO. 22.
H. T. HELMBOLD'S
COMPOUND
FLUID EXTRACT
BUCHU.
PHARMACEUTICAL.
A SPECIFIC REMEDY FOR ALL
DISEASES
or THB
For Debility, Low of Memory. Indisposi
tion tn Exertion or Business, .shortness of
Krt-ath, Troubled with Thought of Disease,
1'imneasof Vision. Pain in Ilia Back. Chest,
and Head. Euso of Itlnod to the Head, Pal
Countenance, and Dry Mciu.
If these symptoms are allowed to fro on,
fry frequenthv Epileptio 'ita and Con
rum pt ion follow. When the constitution
lwomi affected it require the aid of an
Invigorating medicine to strengthen and
ton up Ibe system which
"Helmbold's Buchu
DOES IN EVEBY CASE.
IS TJNEQUAUED
By any remedy known. It la prescribed by
tue most eminent physiabui all OTr the
world, in
Rheumatism.
Epermatorrticea,
Neuralgia,
Nervousness,
Dyspepsia,
Indigestion,
Constipation,
Aches and Fal;s
General Debility,
Kidney Diseases,
Liver Complaint,
Nervous Debility,
Epilepsy,
Head Trouble,
. Paralysis,
General Ill-Health.
Spinal Disease!,
Sciatica,
Deafness, '
Decline,
Lumbago,
Catarrh,
Nervous Complaints,
Female Complaint, Arc.
Headache. Pain In the Shoulder. Conh.
Iizzlness, Sour Stomach. Eruption. Lad
Taste In tue Mouth, Palpitation of tho
Heart, Patn In the region of the Kidney,
and a thousand other painful symptom,
are the offsprings of Dyspepsia.
Helmbold's Buchu
Invigorates the Stomach,
And Mlmulate the torpid Live. 150ui
and Kidney, to healthy action,
the blood of all impurities, and Imparting
new life and vigor to the whole ayMera.
A single trinl will be qalu, sufficient to
convince the mort hesitating of iu Talnabl
remedial qualities.
PRICE $1 PER BOTTLE
Or Six Bottle tor S5.
Delivered to any address free from otoserva-
U2pat!ent may eonnlt by e"f. "f1;
in the same attention a by calling, by
answering the following quetlon!
1. Give your name and poot-offlcj addres,
oouotv and Stale, and your nearest expr
office t
i. Yonr age and sex T
g. Occupation T
4. Married or singlet ii..
6. Height, weight, now and In bealtht
. How long have you been 'clcT
7 Tour oomplexion.eolor of hair and eye!
8. Hav you a stooping or ,
5. Kelato wlthoat reservation all yon
know aqoot your case, inclose one dollar
"consultation fee. Yonr, fetter
receive our attention, and we will
the nature of your a'seas and our candid
opinion eencerning a cure.
tx.mpeienj r ----- ,arrn
- Iitjrianl
atory, 1217 liDerv uwm -
Adlpbia, Pa.
B. I. HELM BOLD,
Druggist and Chemist,
Philadelphia, lv
OLD aTIITWKUI
LIGHTS AND SHADES.
Th gloomiest cay baft gleams of U ;Lt.
in darkest wave bath bright foam seir it ;
And twinkle through th cloudiest night
Some solitary star to cheer it.
The gloomiest soul is net all gloom.
The a Meat hear is not mil sadness
And weUy o'er the darkest doom
There ahine som lingering beams of sad
ncsa. Despair is never quit despair.
Nor life nor death the future lose ;
Aad round the shadowy brow cf car
Will bepj aad fancy tein the r roa.a.
Two Loyal Hearts.
In a quiet street off one of the quiet
squares there is a tall, gloomy house, with
arrow, dusty windows, and a massive
double door, that still bears a brass plate
with th? words "Gourlay Brothers'' en
graved thereon.
The lower part of the house was used as
an office, but the blinds were rarely drawn
up, the door seldom swung back to the en
getic push of J customers, the long passage
echoed no hurried footsteps, and Eli Hag
gart, the clerk, was, "to all appearance, the
idlest man in London, till one came to know
hismarars.
The Uourlay Brothers were never any
busier than their faithful old servant
never hurried, flurried, or worried ; never
ate and never early. Every morning at
ton o'clock they entered their office to.
gether, read '.heir letters, glanced at the
paper, left instructions for possible cullers,
and then went to the city. They always
took the same route ; at eleven they might
be seen passing along the sunny side of
Cannon street ; at half -past one they en
tered the same restaurant, and sat down for
luncheon. Wet or dry, shade or shine,
summer or winter, every working-day for
thirty years they ltad gone through the
same routine, always excepting the month
of September, when they took their annual
holiday.
They were clJcrly men John tali, thin,
me!ancholy-lookiug, with light gray eyei
scanty gray hair and whiskers and a gen
eral expression of drabness pervading his
whole face and faultlessly neat attire.
Roger was shorter, rounder, more cheerful
snd generally warmer in color. His per
vading hue was brown, keen reddish eyes
that must have been merry once, crisp
auburn hair that time had not yet quite
tiansmutcd to silver, a clean-shaved, ruddy
face and brown hands full of dents and
dimples. John was the elder; still he
looked up to Roger with grave respect, con
suited him on every subject, and never,
either in our out of business, took any step
without his advice and approval. And
Roger was no less deferential. Withou
anv profession of affection or display of
feeling, the Gourley Brothers dwelt together
in closest friendship and love. Their life
was a long harmony, and during all the
years of their paitnership no shadow had
fallen between them, and their public life
was as harmonious at their private inter
course. In business they were successful,
every speculation they made prospered
everything they touched turned to gold!
and as their whole lives were spent in get.
ting, not spending, they were believed, and
with reason, to be immensely wealthy.
"Cojd, hard, stern, enterprising," men
ca'led them, with an acuteness of vision
and a steadiness of purpose, only to be ac
quired by long and close application to
business. Reserved in manner, simple in
their tastes, economical in their habits, the
Gourlay Brothers were the last men in the
world to be suspected of sentiment, their
lives the least likely to contain even the
germs of romance. And yet they bad not
been always mere business machines; the
sole aim and end of tlicir existence had not
always been money. In early years they
had brighter dreams, nobler ambitions.
At school John had distinguished him.
self, and his brief university career gave
promise of a brilliant future. Roger had
been a bright, ardent boy, with a taste for
music that was almost a passion, and a tal
ent little short ot genius. With his deep
earnestness, intense steadiness of purpose,
and clear, vigorous Intellect, John could
scarcely have failed to make a distinguished
Uisivyer. Roger was a born artist, with a
restW'SS, lofty ambition. Life seemed very
bright for the brothers ; there was nothing
to prevent, and everything to assist, each
in following his inclination. But in the
very dawn of their career thair father died,
and they were suddenly reduced from afflu
ence to actual poverty. Nothing remained
from the wreck of a magnificent fortune but
the bitter experience that always accom
panies such reverses. Fine friends failed
thain, flatterers looked coldly on their dis
tress, those who had most freely partaken
of their lavish hospitality passed by on the
ether side. Not a friend remained in their
adversity but one, and he had indeed the
will, but not the power, to help them.
The boys left the college and turned their
thoughts to business. It was hopeless to
attempt o follow up their professions with
au invalid mother and idolized only sister
depending on them for support. John
secured a situation as clerk in city ware
house. Roger accepted a desk in the office
of Bernard Russell, an old friend of his
father's. They moved to cheap lodgings,
and for several years plodded on wearily,
the only gleam of sunshine in their altered
borne being the occasional visiU of Alice
Russell to their sister. Maude Gourlay
and Alice bad been schoolmates and friends;
they usually spent their vacations together
and Alice felt the misfortune that- had fal
len on the family as if it had overtaken her
- But she could do nothing except
pay them flying TUita, send tnning giiu 01
fmit and flower, and write pretty synipa-
..; notm to Maude.
A few years of hardship and poverty told
o Vrr. Gourlay' always ieeuie Jramc,
still for her daughter's sake she clung to
i;r. wiih a stranee tenacity; out wnen
Maude's lover, who bad gone to Australia
. ot hi fortune, returned, not weaimy,
hnt mifficlentlv so to claim bit bride in her
eircumstances. Mrs. Gourlay
t to have no other object to live for.
Maude'- marriage was haitened, lad the
very day after the ceremony, the poor,
weary, broken hearted mother died. George
Leslie took his wife back with him to Syd
ney, and John and Roger Gourlay were
literally alone in the world.
At If in bitter mockery of their loss, and
loneliness, immediately after their mother's
death the brothers Inherited a small for
tune. But it was too late for John to go
back to his studies, too late for Roger to
return to his piano. They had fallen into
the groove of business, and John at least
was seized with a feverish eagerness to turn
his small fortune into a larger one and be
come wealthy. So they went into business
on their own account as Gourlay Brothers,
with the firm resolution of retrieving the
position their father had lost, and a very
few years saw them established in Whittier
street, and fairly on the high road to for
tune. Then one quiet summer evening, as
they sat over their dessert, John opened
his heart to his brother and told him of bis
hopes, dreams and ambitions of his future.
"Yon will be surprised, and I trust
pleased, to hear, Roger, that I love Alice
Russell,' he said, laying his hand on bis
brother's arm, " I can hardly remember the
time when she was not dearer to me than
all the world beside. The bitterest part of
our misfortune to me was that it separated
me from her ; the only thing that has sus
tained me through our long struggle was
the hope of some day winning her; nothing
else can ever compensate me for the ruin
of all my hopes and glorious ambitions. I
once dreamed of being famous, Roger ; for
her sake put that behind me, and grubbed
for gold like a miser. We, Gourlay
Brothers, are on the high road to for
tune ; I may aspire to the hand of Alice
now ! "
".Surely, John," end the younger
brother's voice was husky, and his hand
shook as he took up his glass ; "I drink to
your success."
"Thanks, brother. I should have told
you all tills before, I should have confided
in you. but I feared troubling you on my
aount, you would have seen a thousand
shadows across my path, you would have
been more unhappy than I was myself.
And now I want you to promise that it
shall make no difference between us. We
shall be Gourlay Brothers still."
Roger stretched his hand aoross the table,
and John grasped it heartily.
"Gourlay Brothers to the end f the
chapter, old fellow, and may you be as
happy as you deserve. God bless you
John."
John's face became a shade or two paler
with emotion, and he walked up and down
the room I few minutes ; then he stood be
hind his brother's chair.
"Roger, you will think me very weak,
very nervous, but I dare not speak to Alice
myself. I could not endure a refusal from
her. I have never even given her the most
distant hint of my feelings. I have not the
slightest reason to suppose that she regards
me as other than a mere acquaintance, at
most as Maude's brother. Rogr, we have
always been friends as well as brothers
stand by me in this ; you are less shy and
more accustomed to women ; see Alice for
me, ask her to be my wife.''
"John, you're mad! You do not mean
it!"
"I do ; it is my only chance. Plead for
my happiness, brother, as I would plead
for yours. I am a man of few words,
but I feel deeply. A refusal from her lips
would kill me ; I could hear it from you."
"As you will, John; 111 do my best. "
and Roger leaned his bead ou his hand and
shaded his face from the light; "I'll call on
Alice to-morrow. "
The next day was the longest of John
Gourlay 's life a bright, warm, happy day,
that made people even in the city look glad
and cheerful. He went about bis business
as usual, ate bis luncheon, and walked home
leisuroiy. Roger was standing at the win
dow watching for him, and he kept his back
to him when he entered the room.
"Well," John said, gently; "well
Roper, have you seen her?"
"Yes, I've seen her," and Roger faced
around suddenly. "John, old fellow, it's
no use."
"Brother 1" and he lifted his hand as if
to ward off a blow.
"It's no use." Roger went on in a hard
voice. "She does not love you ; she loves
some one else. Be a man, John, and bear
it, for there's no Lope."
One low, stifled groan, and then John
Gourlay wrung his brother's band and
walked steadily out of the room. What he
suffered in the hours that followed no one
ever knew, and when he appeared at the
dinner table he was calm and serf-possessed,
but something had either come into his face
or gone out of it that altered him. But of
the two, Roger looked the most unhappy.
The blow had really fallen most most heav
ily on him.
Jack, old fellow, we're Gourlay Bro
ther's now to the end of the chapter," he
said, huskily. "I know you'll nevfcr mar
ry, and neither will I, and somehow John
felt that Roger meant what be said
Twenty five years passed by, and a quar
ter of a century of changes and chances,
and still the Gourlay Brothers held the even
tenor of their wav. They were rich beyond
their wishes or desires, and not altogether
unhappy in their solitary friendship. Alice
Russell seemed to have drifted completely
out of their lives; her name was never
mentioned, and whether she was married
or dead they did not know.
One morning about the middle of Sep
tember they were walking along the King's
road at Brighton, whither they had gone
for their annual holiday. Roger entered a
shop to purchase something, and John
stood outside looking dreamily at the pass
ersby. Suddenly he advanced a step as
lady in an invalid chair was wheeled by.
Chancing to look up, she met his glance
with a smile of recognition, "Mr. Gourlay,
it surely is, it must be you. I am so glad
to see you!"
"And 1 to meet you," John said, with a
courteous bow. "I have not the pleasure
of knowing "
"My name I am Alice Russell still,
the said frankly. At that moment Roger
appeared. For an Instant the blood for
sook hie rod face, whOe ihotetimio.
flush rose to Alice's pale cheek as she tried
to stammer out some words of greeting
Roger was no less confused, and the expres
sion of both faces was a revelation to John
Gourlay. He felt as If the world had sud
denly drifted away from him and be was
left solitary In some unknown, infinate
space. But there was nothing of that in
his voice as be asked Alice for her address,
and permission to call upon her in the
afternoon. Then taking his brother by the
arm he led him away, and they continued
their walk without exchanging a single
word abont the strange encounter.
In the afternoon John called at Miss
Russell's hotel, and in a few moments he
found himself seated beside her in a pleas
ant sitting room, overlooking the sea.
"Alice," he said, plunging into the sub
ject at once, "do you remember a conver
sation you had with my brother a long time
ago?"
'Yes, 1 remember, Mr. Gourlay,
replied sadly,
she
'He made a request for me then which
it was not in your power to grant ; I am
come to moke a similar one for him now.
Roger loves you, Alice. He has loved you
all these long, weary years, though you
will at least believe I did not know It
then."
"Poor Roger!" Alice said, softly.
J
"You care about him f
ou will make,.
him happy, even at this late hour ? Tell
me, Alice, that you love my brother I
' Yes, Mr. Gourlav, I do. Why shoulu 1
deny it? I have loved him always though
I did not know that he cared almut me,
and if the little life that is left mecan make
him happier, I will devote it to him gladly,
proudly poor Rogtr ! You see I am too
old for pretenses, Mr. Gourlay, and I fear
I am dying ; therefore, I tell you all."
'"Dying, Alice? No, no! you will live
many years yet, I hope, to make my dear
brother happy brave, loyal, great-hearted
Roger.
Let me send him to vou now. and
Alice, for my old and long affection's sake'
make him happy. He deserves it, ami
that is the only way I can ever help lo re
pay the devotion of his life."
"I love him," Alice replied, simply ; "I
cannot do any more."
In their lodgings John Gourlay found bis
brother pacing restlessly up and down.
"Roger, I've found out your secret and
r
her's," he said, laying both hands on his
shoulders; "loyal, faithful friend, go to
her; she loves you, she is waiting for you."
"Poor Alice! how she must have suf
fered ?"
"How we all have suffered ! but it's
nearly over now, Roger the grief, pain,
regret. It's clear and bright. Roger, dear
friend, can you torgive mc ?''
"Forgive you, John? Say rather can
you forgive me ?"
"True to the last," John murmured, as
he wrung his brother's hand. "Now
Roger, go to her; she is waiting for you.
She loves you loves you, Roger! tlxid
bye, and may you both be happy !"
Late that evening, when Roger Gourlay
returned home, full of deep, quiet g'adness.
he found his brother sitting in an easy
chair near the wicdow, apparently asleep.
The full moon shone down on his pale
face, and showed a smile on bis lips ; hi i
hands, were clasped on an open book that
rested on his knee. The attitude was life
like, but at the very first glance Roger felt
that his brother w as dead. The doctors
said he had died of disease of the heart .
Perhaps they were right. More people
die of that malady than the world knows
of.
A Hfyslerions Slabber.
Considerable excitement has been aroused
within the last few diyj at Mtrasburg by
the extraordinary proceedings of a myster
ious stranger, who makes his appearance
regularly at nightfall in one or the other of
the less frequented thoroughfares, armed
with a sharp, double-edged poinard, and,
as soon as he preceives an "unprotected
lemalc," saunters up to her in a leisurely
way and strikes heron the right breast with
his weapon, indicting a slight wound of
from half to threcquarters of an inch deep.
Sinre the lSih ult.. he has succeed-d in
?-?.Dg " I
... - .. " ' I
g.r. m inn. .uauuer, ..r.u r.. wu- n, ,
taking to flight as soon as he bad made his 1
coup, and before bis panic stricken victims!
had sufficiently recovered from their terror
to raise an alarm. .The Imperial police
authorities have made senrch for this
eccentric misdemeanant deserilied by
those who have felt the paint of bis dagger
as young, slight in build, and well dressed
in all the hotels, inns, and lodging houses
of the vendible cathedral city, bnt as yet
to no purpose. They have placarded the j
town with official warnings addressed to
heads of families, urging them not to
permit their wives and daughtersto traverse
the streets alone after dark, and exhorting
the male population of Strasburg to assist
the police in discovering and arresting this
male-factor. The placards in question were
published early one Sunday evening.
Three hours later two young eirls were
stabbed, both in the r 1 h breast, while
returning home from vespers through
streets by no means void of pedertrians at
that time the respective assaults were com
mitted. A large reward is now offered by
the Government for the seizure of the
dexterous bravo, who has rendered the
gloaming so terrible to Strasburg 8 fair
daughters.
hat Was In Her.
It was nearly a year ago when Leadville
was first showing what was in her. There
were several newly made bonanza kings
about Denver then, and among them was a
man who had probably never had f-J-O in
his pocket at one time previous tohisetnke.
To bim the possession of a watch was the
natural eviuencc of a competence, and as
be made mon than a competence, he felt
that the fact should be indicated by the
purchase of several watches. These he
had deposited in Graad Central hotel safe.
One night be came into the office very
much the worse for liquor, lurched to the
bar and hic coughed out to the clerk,
"Gimme a watch."
A timepiece was passed to his unsteady
hands, but endeavering to thrust It into his
trousers pocket he left it slip and fall upon
tbe floor. Without casting a glance at the
fallen watch be lurched against the counter
again, reached out his shaking hand, mus
tered all bis faculties to the. speak
ing and then blurted out I"
"Gimme 'nutherl
Can the indifference of affluence go be
yond this?
Boston was In corpora tod a a eity
inl8!S.
Mot-tog
To begin at the beginning, Adam and
Eve moved out of the garden because they
did't comply with the conditions of the
lease. It didn't include fruit.
Noah moved his whole family by water
to get out of a bad neighborhood, and found
after all that he had taken the worst neigh
bors with him.
The Pilgrim Fathers moved to Plymouth
Rock, because tbey couldn't move the rock
to them.
Then the Indians began to move West,
because the white man's tenements were
held at too expensive rents for them.
And the Chinese began to move East,
because they jostled one another at home.
And the Irish and English, Germans and
French, Italian organgrinders and Russian
Mcnnonite, all began to move over here,
because they wanted more land about their
houses, and the privilege of owning it
themselves.
Thus the moving boom started, and
every possible excuse has been invented for
i moving ever since.
Some people move because they have
got furniture that looks well on a load.
and wish to stir up the envy of the neigh
borhood. This doesn't work after about
three moves. The furniture doesn't stand
up to its good looks.
Occasionally a man moves because he like
the excitement, but not often.
People move away from a neighborhood
where there are children because they can't
B,un.l . 1. a 1 a 1 . i : i
... .. .' . . . ,
right.
I Quarrelsome people are moved away
1 from one only to find other people who
not but leaX tbe morninS
per from the doorstep. swimmer during a recent interview said :
Some folks move because they want "The Tagus is perhaps the n oat remark
more rooms and larger ones, and after they able river 1 ever navigated. I left Toledo,
get there find every carpet a yard and a I in Spain, and paddled down through that
! balf too small each way.
c-imra iuiks move uecause tney want to a uistance oi Sou miles, r or over seven
get into a more fashionable neighborhood, J hundred miles it is not navigable for ves
and find that it costs them three times as ; sels, but winds in an erratic and to me
much to d:ess as it did in the old place. annoying manner through the most weird
Some folas move in order that tnev may ! scenery that Spain rxssesses. Between
have a garden spot to cultivate, and spend
the ""n' " fighting potato bugs off the
"-"e.roui tor gar-
J -- - ft
Some families move where there is a
plat of grass for a croquet ground, and
superinduce a quarrel that ruins the matri-
monial prospects of the two older daughters
and cause the parish rector to i-ay "gosh."
Some rwor.il. move hen.. i). ort.
I gasee inserts an advertisement in the paper,
UnrI ir.t IkAMItJA Vint. war-.. nt- WA
, ,.,, .. , . ,
I rsome nentile move to tret a rhoaner rfnt
I an, ,ue nrs, wintonn leaks through the
root and spoils if 73 worth or carpet
c . , , , .....
The Tf oTiVlv - n LT frrVf hab'.t-
fu . ki i .? 3!mn?,
follow on behind a load of goods, with a
ith-rapb of the ten commandmenu in one
tAAJVA A,-1 -CTS- 1IL ltUJf IU lUC l-TUIH
Last, Dut not least, if you had paid your
rent in the old place you wouldn't be
obliged to move.
Conrernlag t yrlunee.
Every one should know what a cyclone
is, but the general ideas of tbe subject are
rather vague. Take a small butter-pot,
and set it down on your largest map of the
world at about SO degrees .North Latitude,
anywhere in the Atlantic between two
continents, sav east of the West Indies. I
Then, with a piece of whalebone twice as ;
ri -
long as from tho butter-pot to the North
t'ole, bent into a parabola, with one end at
the Pole, the other at the butterpot, ma k
out thus the cyclone. The apex of the
bent whalebone will lie somewhere in the
Western United State. Imagine voiir !
. ......... .. J
muter-pot to ue revolving in tts own centre
; .u- j- : j. . .
u uie uirecuou on me nanus oi a watcn,
at the rate of a hundred miles an hour. lis
northwestern edge will be the dancerous
storm-rim, blowing a hurricane, lashing the
seas, and precipitating the rain ; the other
edges ;will be breezv, bat n-tso stormv,
. -
as thi-y contain less moist air. The centre
will be the low barometer and calm area,
because here the air has less weight and is
flowing upward. Now move your butter,
pot slowly along the paraho!a, still suppos
ing it to be turning. By the time you
reach the centre of the United States ex
change the pT for a saucer, with the same
supposed conditions only by this time. If
wintry, a snow-stonn w.ll take the place
of the rain. Keep it m ving circularly.
vinir rir-oiil-trltr
and northwards also aJon the parabola,
and aliout Hudson's Bay change to a break -
tast-plate, and in Greenland to A dinner-
plate, and about the 80th degree North, j
lu.fjv. 1 li .1 .tinn Mmolin. lli. . : . n 9 V.. 1
Tv wL.L TutZTZ. 1
-- -- - - r- I . "7
enl-in'e-s . it nn-Mi-a Xorth the winila hlow !
around ils rim, and the ealinecntre moves
with it. Mariners now carry what is called
a horn-canl, transparent piece of flat cow's
horn, wiih a circle on it, inside which are
several smaller circles, with arrows point
ing as a watch's hands travel. Whenever
the barometer changes, and clouds scud by,
this horn-card is placed on the chart at the
ship's position. Knowing the wind's direc
ion auu tue wcigut 01 tue air, me uorn
cards tells wherealiouts in the cyclone the
ship is, and from this is reasoned bow to
sail to avoid the cyclone ; or, if unavoida
ble, how to manage in it. Not many de
cades ago, ships were driven thousands of j
miles from their course by not having mas
iers possessed of this knowledge. Now
a'lays, meteorological information is as
necessary to the navigator as his sextant.
In South Latitudes storms pass in the same
way toward the South Pole, by way of a
western bend, only the circular motion is
reversed, and the southwestern is the
stormy edgo.
A Mnart ftoy.
A young man called on his Intended,
and while waiting for her to make her ap
pearance he struck up a conversation with
his intended brother-in-law. After a while
the boy asked :
"Does galvanized niggers know much?"
"1 really can't say," replied the much
amused young man.
And then silence reigned for a few mo
ments whsn the boy resumed bis conversa
tion. "Kin you play checkers with your
nose"
"No, I have never acquired that accom
plishment "Well, you'd better learn, you hear
me!"
"Why?"
"Cause Sis says you don't know as
much as a galvanized nigger, but yer dad's
got lots of stamps and she'll marry you
anyhow ; and she said when she got hold
of the old man's sugar she was going to all
of the Fourth of July percessions and ice
cream gumsucks, and let you stay home
and pliy checkers with that hollyhock nose
of yourn."
And when Sis got her hair banged And
came in, she found the parlor deserted by
all save her brother, who was innocently
tying tbe tails of two kittens together sod
singing:
a, I love th aaaday School.
Cheap Living.
For cheap living, the Island of St. Mich
ael, the pearl of the Azores group, is about
the best place in the world. The climate
is soft and agreeable, the scenery lovely,
and the people noted for their simplicity
and kindness. Labor is very cheap, and
consequently the roads leading from the
town of St. Michael are of the finest char,
aoter. The streets are kept marvelously
clean. The island is about thirty miles
square and picturesque. One can buy five
eggs for two cents, a chicken for twelve
and a-half cents, beef for three tents a
pound, and hire a good house for $7 a
month. You can live well for f t00 a year ;
and handsomely of $700, and live in superb
style, keeping carnage and horses for $1,
OuO. The gardens are beautiful features of
the island. In one garden there are 4,0W
plants of different varieties. The land is
owned by a few rich people, and rents very
higlu A quarter of an acre brings 15 a
year. The peasants or laboring people go
barefooted, and live very economically.
Proliably $100 year supports a small
family. The fashions in dress have net
changed within a hundred years, and this
applies to the best society. The women
wear copakef, a garment reaching from the
neck to the feet, and bearing some resem
blance to the "ulster" which the ladies of
this country wear. The head covering is
called a "capilla," and is like one of the
old-fushioned New England bonnets, but it
is attached some way to the conake. A
girl, seeing a stranger approaching, con
ceals her face with the capilla. The native
peopie recognize their friends by their feet.
A Tago Adventure.
Captain Paul Bovton. the renowned
I country and Portugal to the Atlantic Ocean,
Toledo and the ocean its descent is S.tioo
, feeL At its source and for a short distance
, uow n tue snores are unea wi n luxunanl
I mail, glwn uu, lUlOt UtlCllJ
' ulsaPPar. giving way to and and stoney
! bnks. "hich in turn grow into precipitous
! mountains fides. For the first three days
iIp"ddled a)onl? satisfactorily, but as the
nu'ber cf days since I began nly journey
! increased my troubles augmented. Then
i mT course wound through a continued ser-
places so high and steep that they almost
met and nearly hid the sunlight fntn the
'""' ".". is"
I it required no great stretch of fancy form
ne that I was being swiftly earned
alongThrough a mysterious subterranean
i i.,.?. .u ... . .
fearlu, SUyro U( often , WM bo1J,
along under the pressure of the roaring
wind and rushing current 1 was thrown
against one of these obstacles and my senses
nearly shaken from me.
"To increase my peril the river was full
of falls and rapids of unusual violence. In
places a shallow current would dart toward
the rocky mountain-side and then turn at a
sharp angle and merge into a deep and making. Upon the curd being formed it I notel 'Dd made 15.00, the first year. I
peaceful sheet of water. I blessed those ! is slowly and carefully cut into square, j aold the lease to my partners for $ 140,
havens, for they arfforded mc a (h u.ee of I pieces the size of dice, low temperature and 0"0 whlcn th('T P"1 in f ulI pt $20,-
takmg much-needed rest. Lookine into!
, - , . .. . .. .. . .
UlClr clcar oePln couia sec t tie Hideous
nsh uftr,inS hm but the bottom was a
fathomless piL Words are wanting to pic-
lurv Hie lonfiutss in niv hiiuatii in Fit
ten days I saw not a shrub, not a blade of j
ithio Omnia Mfm fvf Kw... 1
My diet was nauseating and I felt with
alarm that I was gradually losing mv
gradually losing my
strength.
I wit,.. .U.
it was the twelfth of my
. v " ui.
ntirnei as I vm flimtinir on Hi. knn. f
j -!..
! f -uddenly 1 was plunged head-
: nrel 0Ter ,a" J,a Mrut,i with such loree ,
liMlnBluinh.iiniiui. wall n . 1. MR.
i aRHlnst the precipious wall or the canyon
i U,at 1 lo3t con-iusness. Happily my
! rul,,,er uit me frm wuat would
Ht'cwTU uiutri.iar; a Ul 1 lai U ueaiu. A
recovered my senses aft-.T an interval, I
know not how long, and, with a prayer on
my lips, was about to resume my voyage,
when to my horror I found that my tender
was lost ! It had been sucked into a whirl
pool, probably, andthecurrent was rapidly
bearing me awav from the scene. 1 was
nearlv 'nmtic .My tcnilcr was gone, my
""'" wc"- UIJ "o worm
a straw: juecomeui oi tne lime noat
were at that moment as precious to me as
all the wealth that a kin? could bestow.
'"I paddled on for several hours, trusting
w,nn? ,wsy 0,11 01 ,,tie nver- " 1 c1'1
with me his fnigal meal I was saved.
uitijr iiiiu m aiiviutiu rui-i uua cihiu;ii IU
But mv hones were vain. Encumlieivd hv
my rUltiXT
armor, with waning strength
many
futile attempts to clamber the slippery
mountain sides, but in every case I t mibled
back into the river exhausted. For three
days I was urged on, I know not how,
by the impetuous waters. I was raveuous
with hunger, my limbs quivered like as
pens, a chili sweat oozed all over my body,
and my brain was delirious. I swore like
a madman, heaped maledictions upon the
Tugus, and at times sang wild snatches of
song. To this day I cannot account for
tbe supernatural strength giving me during
those seventy-two hours of agony. 1 he
howling of wolves and the hooting of owls
during the nights heightened the sombre
current of my reflections. On the morning
of the third day, just after daylight, I en
tered the canyon of Casaras. I swallowed
a pint or two of water and stood upright in
my nibber suit. I listened for the tinkling
of a bell, or some sound that would give
token of a habitation. Nothing broke the
silent but the distant fall of waters. As I
sank bark in the river, in despair, to my
joy I thought I saw a, thin veil of smoke
coming over the edge of the high plateau
and falling on the water. My heart beat
rapidly as I paddled on for five minutes in
the direction of the smoke. At last I saw
the bluish haze rising from behind a gigan
tic rock. With accelerated steps I left tbe
nver and clambered along the rocky bank.
Several times I slipped and fell, receiving
numerous bruises.
"I was compelled to make many detours
to reach the plateau, but finally reached it,
almost dead from fatigue. I peered around
the edge of the large rock that I had ob
served and saw the fire which caused the
smoke. A large pot was suspended from
s tnpod over a fire kindled with sticks and
matted grass. The pot contained what I
now believe to have been a mess hardly fit
for dogs, but which I then judged from the
greasy odor to be hardly second to the dish
of the gods. ' Two men, in active conver
sation, stood near the fire, with their backs
towards me, and one of them stirred the
savory mess while he talked. They were
dressed in the garb of mountaineers, And
were most probably shepherds. Both were
clothed in faded garments, but all the colors
of the rainbow were there, more or less ob
scured by the dirt of years. My hunger
was keen, so I introduced myself without
thetedUousceremonissohighlyappreciated
in Spaoish society. I Inflated my dress.
and, standing forth in full view, let my
peddle fall to the grand. Startled by tbe
noise, the men turned about and gazed at
me in superstitious terror. With shrieks I
of fear they swiftly turned about and
scampered off at the top of their speed.
Then I went over to the pot and ravenously
. ....... .
devoured its half-cooked contents, scorch
ing my throat and spilling half of the food.
1 never saw my impromptu host after, nor
did 1 care to see them, in fact After my
repast 1 disrobed my armor, and, stretch,
ing at full length on the sward, was soon
slumbering. When I awoke I hid my rub
ber covering and walked for a few miles,
when I came to a farm house and managed
to buy another lot of greasy bread and in
digestible bard-tack. From this point to
its mouth the river was navigable and I
never more was troubled about food. On
the eighteenth day I arrived at mv lournev's
end. I was met by the Governor of Casm.
ras, his suite and many ladies and gentle
men who had anxiously been expecting
me. The whole party rode on gay 1; capari
soned mules to the castle of the Governor,
where 1 received a royal welcome and rested
for a fortnight. Thus ended my navigation
of the Tagus, the first and only time that a
man had ever descended that terrible river
from its source to to its mouth. Perhaps,
after many days, the story will be told in
whispers among the Spanish peasantry of
hew, once upon a time, while two moun
taineers of Casaras were cooking their
morning meal, the devil appeared to them
in a horrible form, horns, hoof and tail,
surrounded by fire, and caused them to flee
for their lives."
Llnibnrger Cheese.
One of the marked successes of our dairy
men has been the production of variety of
Limburger cheese, that is said to be a
decided improvement upon the original.
and which has dirven the imported article '
almost entirely out of the market. Thou
sands of tons of Limburger are now pro
duced every season mostly in tbe States
of New York and Wisconsin at a cost of
less than half the imported article. It
finds its market and is consumed mostly by
our Ameri. an and German population. It
is more profitable to the fanner and maker
than any other kind of cheese; first because
from a given quantity of milk more weight
is obtained, owing to the mode of making
and curing; also because the price it brings
is usually from 10 to 40 per cent higher
than that obtained for tbe standard Ameri
can cheese. In neighborhoods where its
manufacture has been commenced it usually
spreads to tbe exclusion of other kinds.
Even the fastidious and shrewd Yankee.
with his everlasting eye U the main chance.
has iound thit the odor, so execrable at
first, smells somehow of greenbacks. The
eheese is made in fartnrirs riinAhle of work.
ing the milk from l'R) to 4'X cows, rarely j
exceeding the latter number, as mire I
would reqiure a larger area of country than j
would be desirable, as the milk is hauled '
and cheese made tw ice a day usually. The
matters generally buy the milk from the
farmer at a pric; agreed upon f or the season
for six months, beginning about the 1st, of
May. The process of manufacture in its
first stages does not differ from the usual
way, except that a lower temperature is
kept while the curd is forming, the animal
heat alone in summer being often hii;h
erOTlfvh f.reot mm ia t.bnn to nan mi
milk, free from taint or filth, and cleanli- '
ness is requisite in every state of the '
careful handlins beinir necessary to avoid
. .. . - "... - . '
DreaKing the butter globules upon which j
the richness of cheese depends. It j8
slightly scalded and stirred, most of the j
vnr i ravnn nn wit rwiir rwtnv c.iitH
the curd is flipped out into perforated !
lv.,.nn . 1 1 l a A? 1
square, and left to drain without anv p.-es- LT. '. "t
sure bein-annlied. In a few ho. thJl11 ' Tlie train which goes up the Creek
sure being applied. In a few hours the
. w.MN:ra c uiiilm mill tuc i. ill I ill n iisr. I
1 r . . . .
packages are carried
. i .i ,.
and placed edecways on shelves, like bricks
"i''i;i-'3uii.TO:ura.:
M i dm vro .1., ,-.... r.. .1
t l.r xlr. .
.n, u, ,ulhiu.ci "'" a,c
rolled in salt, and replaced when they have
atmorbed enough salt Iney arc turned
I. ... 1 .1.--1: 1 ..
.:!. .a. .,.i..i .
evenly over the surface, which serves the I
double purpose of keeping the cheese moist
and toeloseall cracks into which flies
might lay their This outside mois- !
tab nteatsf eggHl the same alu I
follow the decomposition, and in this case !
f , . 1 . . .. ,
the Limburger odor is developed, which
never forsakes it. After eight or ten weeks !
; i. -r.-..b.wi ; :i . .
. ' I'-- . ... I'-. -ui. ,au ia, wai
ready for markeL In consistence, contents
and nourishment it is the richest cheese
. 1. . 1 1 1 ... 1 ... ,
that can be Hade, but, to the uninitiated.,
malicious and premeditated outrage uimn
the o-,rn. ..U i
"'"Vll.
Glassware.
Heavy, old-fashioned English cut glass
is coining again into fashion, but the favor
ite glass of the nay is clear and thin and
beautifully engraved. This should all
match goblets, wine glasses of various
sorts, decanters, carafes, ice-cream sets and
finger bowls. At fashionable dinner part ies,
where half a dozen or more different wines
are served, the glasses are by no means an
inconsiderable feature of the service. The
time-honored castor in the centre of the
table is decidedly old-fashoned ; the mode
now is one, two, three, or four small
castors, according to tbe length of their
table. More stylish still are individual
sets silver pepper and salts, in quaint de
signs; solemn-looking owls with ruhv eves.
English pug dogs and even toads. Where
these are used, small pitchers of Venetian
glass hold vinegar, and the mustard pots
two of which are a set are of artistic china,
either matching the dinner service or of
sufficient beauty to stand alone. The tall
epergnes, once so much admired, are
bought no longer. People who possess
very elegant ones use them, but tbe prefer
ence is for ornaments and centre-pieces.
which do not hinder conversation by ob
structing the view of one's vis-a-vis at
table.
I'ses of Waste Paper.
A writer says that few housekeepers are
aware of the many uses to which waste pa
per may be put. After a stove has been
blacked, it can be kept looking well for a
long time by rubbing it with paper every
morning. Rubbing it with paper is a much
nicer way of keeping the outside of a tea
kettle clean than the old way of washing it
in suds. Rubbing them with paper is also
the best way of polishing knives and tin
ware after scounng them. If a little soap
be held on the paper in rubbing tin ware
and spoons, they shine like new silver.
r or polishing mirrors, windows lamp
chimneys, etc., paper is bi tter than dry
cloth. Preserves and pickles keep much
better if brown paper instead of cloth is
tied over the jar. Canned fruit is not apt
to mould if a piece of writing paper cut to
fit each can, is laid directly upon the fruit.
Paper is much better to put under carpets
than straw. It is thinner, warmer and
makes less noise when one walks over it
Two thicknesses ot paper placed between
the other coverings on a bed are as warm
as a quilt. If it is necessary to step upon
a chair, always lay a paper upon it, and
and thus save the punt and wood-work
treat dsmsyi.
Is Hokum of Hotel Keeping.
"Having staid too long In the bath at
Long Branch recently, I lost the train to
lo horse-race, and CoL Presbury, of the
I u r' i t r . i i. . it. .
W est End Hotel, a gallant old beau, of fine
worldly style, offered to take me out. He
was about to give away $1,000, as it
proved, to George LorilUvrd, and had only
time to see that stake run .or and the fol
lowing two miles and a quarter. As we
went along the road I said : 'You were the
first big hotel man I ever saw, and I have
been afraid of you for about twenty years.
How did you start 1' said the straight, military-like
old man. 1 came from Balti
more. My mother was a Howard. I was
cashier of the Bank of Maryland, and also
of the Bank of Louisville. I liad put by
some money, and one day Mr. Billings
came to me and said, 'Colonel, there is a
big hotel to be erected in Philadelphia,
called the Girard House. If you will let
me have some money to furnish it, I think
I can get it.' I was banking then in St.
Louis. I went on with Billings to see the
hotel, and as it cost a large sum to furnish
it, $75,000. 1 was compelled to be a part
ner, vve leased the hotcL Billings made
$100,000, which I paid to bim. He wasn't
equal to so much luck, and is dead. My
inside steward was named Darling. I got
him from the Tremont House, Boston, and
paid $2,500 a year. He was o efficient
with me that he got the new Battle
House at Mobile, made money and was
enabled to take the Fifth Avenue Hotel.
New York. There he became tbe wealth
iest American hotel man, and is worth $3,
ihX'.OoO. If I had begun business with as
good a man as my present partner. Hil
dredth, I would have been as rich as Dar
ling.' " 'now came you to go to Washington
City during the war ?
" 'I had to give tip the Girard House af
ter running it four years, on account of the
boggishne of those who owned it. I asked
for a reduction of rent on the ground that
the Continental Hotel, a much finer struct
ure, was going up right opposite me. They
said that was a reason for raising my rent,"
'Very weH,' said L 'I will seli out the fur
niture and close the Girard House for a
year, and you will never make money out
ot it again. They never have. I went to
Baltimore and the war broke out. and the
first thing I knew Simon Cameron, Secre
tary of War, telegraphed me to come to
Washington. I went down there and he
opened the conversation:
"'Presburv. I want vou to take Wil-
lard's HoteL It will be the Vnion head
quarters. I want a man in control there
whom I know!' "Gen. Cameron.' I re-
plieil, 'I'm hardly your man. While I
think our People are foolish to talk about
le,m.n? tue I "mon, my sympathies are with
the S,ate Maryland whatever she does.'
j Pshaw..: e "I. 'Vou goand take that
boleL uls"' d. and you can get
J " "iiiarus, iney
offered me the hotel for $100,000, furniture
and lease. 1 had the proffer written out
and sigued. 1 rented it without looking at
it, seeing there were six hundred guests.
When I went next Monday to take the
hotel, Willard said, 'Presbury, we don't
want to give this up. What will you take
to give the property up? We'll give yau
v',000 for your bargain. Said I, ten-
Uemen 1 will take $100,000.' I got the
WK lnui est fcnd Hotel here I have
In ir..Atn. 1 1 1 1 1 1 . i- J .1 : i l. i. A ,
T i , " "V anu
InJ w.ww on the property, and we get
W"Q0 year out of it.
At th IX pot.
lours tneiKi-. j .u- j .
v.n..va uunu uj me ufLioi, men uncouples,
. i ,. . , . -
and the lnmmotive mil a e.-Minle of nm tw.
" ' n"
,. . tf . ,,. ,n . -,. fmm ...
over ventre street to auow a car from the
Yallev train to he .witi-lie.1 in i.ih.
1J5U " vI off . LJ. t .h!
..;., ...i, ..ThL. ,Z1
J , . ... . ' fco IUU
train:" and started in pursuit. His ex-
H SaTS. TT
.JHJ ,
fhTr-mn , ? , .T ',
th nmd A fat woman wbaskc ' 5
KSMWIbS
!.... . u"w"
oiu-i. aiiii .ucu sue buuik in a pool 01
..,. ,1 k -. 1 ?-. ,
lrl
pmg a gnilole cake ao to the iron. Then
she yelled murder and called for the police.
A !at old gentleman got stuck in the door-
1 . uii.il .in- 1.1 11 .. 14 1 ' uv.11 iii" 1 1 1 iiii ucruinu
Isuit,raly loo8cned bi wheQ he ghot
I a., .i " 1
" " lUC VUU "l "1 CSX
into the arms of the brakeman, with a speed
which confused the old man into the belief
that he had collided with the locomotive.
A nervous man followed and attempted to
jump over the fat lady, who had not yet
arisen. His toe caught in her waterfall,
and he plunged bead-first into .the stomach
of a man who was rushing to assist the
lady, doubling bim up on the ground,
while a yard of false hair fluttered from the
nervous man's toes for a moment as he
waved them in the air, looking like a well
worn raz on the end of a black stick. Two
men who bad gained the train just at
Sycamoie street, said to the brakeman,
Well, we caught it." "Yes, you caught
it, though what in thunder you run like
that for when we're going to back up again
is more than I caa telL" The two men
got right off and stood looking into each
other' faces for five minutes without speak,
ing. Then said one, "is there anything
strong enough for us to drink in this town I
Matters were finally arranged at the plat
form. The fat old gentleman was assisted
into the cars again and two men helped np
the old lady and her purchases; procured
a portion of her waterfall a dog had run
off with the other part and by telling her
that nobody hail been hurt by the collision,
persuaded her to take her seat in the car
once more. Tbe nervous gentleman was
discovered trying to pull a plug hat off
from his head and shoulders, while in the
face of the man propped up in one corner
of the depot, with both hands over his
stomach, could be discerned the feature of
him who broke the nervous gentleman's
fall.
Freaehy.
As Monsieur Henri de Charville, a genial
assistant at the Mai son Doree, San Francis
co, was sauntering up Market street near
the Palace the other morning, on his way
to where bis short gingham jacket hangs
on a peg behind tbe door, be spied a
orace of female kills with hair-banged fore
heads and black stockings, In charge of a
damsel, the roseate hue of whose cheeks,
the quiet gray of whose skirts, the delicious
whiteness of whose cap and air n in
short, the completeness of whose Parisian
"get-up" brought him back to the Boule
vards, the Champs Elysee, the Jardin dea
P! antes, and all tbe rest of them. Doffing
his hat, with his politest bow, ss was bis
wont in his home of his boyhood, he saluted
Mademoiselle thnsjy : ''Bon jour, m'mselle.
Je suis enchants de vous voir ce matin."
Mademoiselle looked at him a minute, and
then in the choicest Parisian, replied:
"F wat do yes take me furr, anyhow i Dq
yes think I'm a Cholnay r
I.
1
I
4