1 B. F. SOHWEIER, THE C05STITIITI0J THE USIOH-AID TEE IJTOBOEliTIT OP THE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. VOL. XXXIV. MIFFLINTOWK, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., WEDNESDAY, JULY 21, 18S0. NO. 30. It was down by the brook in the meadow. Where the daisies and buttercups grew, ind Uie wildfires s listened eo brightly. When kiseed bv tbe new fallen dew ; Wbrre tbe eoand of tbe r.ppKug brooklet, A it merrily danced on iu way, I mg of jo f ul welcome sang To me, one bright Summer' day. It ww down by tb brook in the meadow, Gm niern wben the aun aboua serene. I peaceful J f oc the green, mossy bank. Indulging in youth's Hammer dream. I dreamed of tbe day a that bare faded and gone. Tboee many sweet daya of the past ; I wondered it life would alwaya be gay. And Summer forever could last. It iu down It tbe brook in the meadow But bow very different tbe aoene ! Tie winter. Tbe Frost King's cold finger litre touched tbe soft sod once so green. In a tight, ioy chain tbe brooklet is bound It n- longer eioge merrily, oh ! Aud tbe flowers that once grew down bj tbe Lrook Now sleep 'neatli a coverlet of snow. It was down bj tbe brook in tbs meadow Tuat an old man. feeble and gray. With bended head went plodding along. And unto himself thus did aa; : "Ob. for those daya that hare faded and gone. Those man; sweet daya of the past ; Eut, a'.as ! I have found, in my travels thro' Lie. That Summer forercr won't las'." Rose Forrester's Escape. "Everbody envies Rose Forrester.' The pale girl, iu gold-colored silk, lifted the broad lids from her clear eyes for a mo ment, as the speaker's words reached her car; then she bent over the photographs upon her Lip again. She handled the pictures with an enthusi astic appreciation of their worth, so absorb ed in their examination as to be totally un conscious of the tall, fair man who stood quite Bear, looking down upon her with an apparently suddenly awakened interest. "Bclon ging to men a nice family, an heiress, and so beautiful!' The continued words ot the speaker reached Howard Mauley's ear, but evident ly Rose Forrester did not hear them. Sba turned with a sparkling smile to her hostess, and was still talking with her of the photo graphs when Mr. Clinton brought Howard Manley up for an introduction. As she rose in the full light it revealed that she was very young, scarcely twenty, yet tall of stature, and with a marked re pose of manner. Her beauty was not conspicuous she was too pale; yet Manley saw how perfect ly cut was every feature, how clear the dark gray ryes, how dark the curling lashes. The lips shut over little teeth a white as milk, and the contour of the face was a perfect oval. The girl's natural and spontaneous man ner told that she gave the young man, at first. no unusual attention. Little by little she observe J him the fair hair shadowing the white forehead, the dark blue, penetrating eyes, the unusual grace of figure, the fault less dress. Her manner was so cordial and friendly and unmistakably charming that Maclty racked his brains for the chance of next meeting, but was obliged to abandon it when Miss Forrester was joined by her brother. She left the room, but instantly he thank ed his good fortune at the finding of a ruby scarf pin which he recognized as hers. It was easy to decide the ornament too valu able to be entrusted to a messenger. I was a presumption which he would man age with ease to call upon and restore it. Rose was not a belle. She bad too much depth and passion of nature to ever be a society woman; but she had her admirers, and out of them she chose Manley. She could not tell why, but his looks, words, every act had a charm for her, and the eloquent blood tinging her cool check at his approach told him the story of his power. He was a proud man he might well have been a happy one but he often wore an air of noticeable weariness and depres sion This, in answer to Rose's gentle in quiries, he attributed to ill health. Spring wasopeniag, with its vivid son shine, its balmy air, and Rose was very happy. It seemed to her that it was the pleasant influence of the season which made her daily ways so light ; the tender colors, sights and sounds surrounding her daily walk with Manley in the park, which made them so en joyable. Perhaps they helped to make her spirit strong so that she dared say to herself, "I love him!" and say it without reservation or fear; for she knew that it waj but a little while since she had first met him, and of his past history and much of his present she knew nothing. v. fpoml nothing for herself. To love and be surrounded with tenderness was happiness enough for ber, she asked f jr no more. Yet some instinct or trace of wnldlv wisdom made her withhold her ejntidence from her brother, who was her guardian; lie knew nothing of the inti macy. From the night she had first met Man ley at Mrs. Clinton's party. never knew any one who knew him intimately. He told her that he had no living female relatives no home. ! He evidently had means at comniaiid, and procured f jr her with an ingenuity which was almost genius the rarest and most beautiful gifts. Her delighted recep tion of them seemed a mutual joy which prevented any possible linB" "S tion on her side. In truth full of passion .1 imtHiWs of vouth. she was deaf, d-uub and blind to anything but the fullness of the present Her brother came into the music-room where she sat at the piano, dreamily play ng. one day. Rose, will you give me your attention for a few minutest' He held an open letter in his band. He was twenty years older than herself, a evorldwtse prudent man. Dr. Wtngrove proposes for your nana. iou are aware that It will be a very ad mirable match, are you not?" ne nnge, stunned feeling, yet he bowed faintly. From childhood she hd been greatly under her brother's con troL "I should like to write him favorably, Koee. Have you any objection t" "I, I - She round herself u?an her feet shiver- C w the May sunshine. I would have a little time, Edwin.' "Certainly, if you wish, . thougl his brow slightly clouded. "The doctof wiil not probably look for M immediate M. swer," The next moment Rose had escaped from the room, and was locked in her chamber. During the next two hours she hardly knew what she was doing. She found her elf walking the floor, and wringing her nand. At last she stopped short, with a sense of pride. "There is no reason no reason in the world. I dare tell my brother why I will not marry Doctor Wingrove." Rose Forrester's Escape. Doctor Wingrove was the noblest and gentlest of men, singularly handsome, wealthy, and highly connected, and barely thirty years of age. He had known her since childhood, never made love to her, but now that the offer of marriage had come to her, she realized, somehow, that he had always loved ner. Rose was conscious of a racking pain in per temples, at last. The chamber seemed stifling. Catching up her clone and hat, and tying a ved of heavy black lace across her face he went out into the street. She soon waited herself weary, without abating ber painful sensation, and, return ing to the street in which her residence was situated, entered tbe public' inclosure trees and shrubbery which ornamented the square. A fountain bubbled in the centre; the stone vases of flowers seat a sweet per fume upon the air. So close to her home, she had no timidi ty, and, sinking upon a circular seat sur tounding a large tree, she gave herself up to her absorbing thoughts. It was soon dark, yet she had not stir red. In her black dress, in shadow, she was quite unnoticed by two men who cros sed the street from the opposite side and at down behind her. She would then have risen and glided away quietly, but that the movement was arrested by Howard Mauley's voice. "How soon I" be asked. "Xow, my dear brother, 111 stand the risk no longer. I've passed false money enough for you to shut me up for the rest of my life, and I value my liberty, singu larly enough,' sneeringly. "Well, well, I am willing enough to go, Fred. Heaven knows that I am as sick of the business as you can be. Coining isn't all prosperity. In a new country I should feci like another man. But. " 'The heiress!" 'I am sure of her. But I don't like to urge a hasty marriage. She has an old fox of a brother, who may be inwnveniently curious regarding my affairs. If we could wait till the autumn, now, I might enter some respectable business. 'I tell you it won't do !" Both mae in their excitement, and invol untarily walked away. Plainly under the gaslight. Rose saw Howard Manley and his brother past under tbe street. They were coiners. j More dead than alive, sue crept into tue house. But Rose was not a weak girl Before midnight she had placed Howard's gifts in a close package and scaled with them a note, briefly stating that she had overheard the conversation in tbe park. The next morning it was dispatched. As soon as her brother broached the sub jeet of Dr. Wingrove's proposal, she asked to have the ratter call upon her. He came, with countenance so high of purpose, with eye so full of truth, that she involuntarily contrasted Howard's old, re ticent face with it; but she told Dr. Win grove all the truth. "Perhaps it was wroag, but I loved him loved him purely and my heart is torn and bleeding. I am wild with a secret pain which I must hide from everybody. If I had never known him but I cannot imagine that. This terrible experience has changed me; I am not the caro-free, happy, trusting girl you knew. 1 cannot love you; but pity me be my friend. I must talk to some one, and, oh, there is no one in the world so kind as you." 'Was Dr. Wingrove piqued by this re ception cf his proposal? No, be was too generous and tender-hearted for that. 'Poor child: " he said, in a tone so sooth ing that, for the first time. Rose gave way to a relievng burst of passionate weeping. "What shall I dot What do you think ot me!" she asked at last "We will wait, and I think that I love you f he answered quietly. So two kept the secret of Kose's sorrow more easdy than one, and though her heart still knew its pangs of grief for a time the summer brought change of scene which was helpful to a spirit really brave and in nocent Dr. Wingrove joined Rose and her brother at the seashore, to find brightness in the young aid's eyes again, and to the latter it was sweet to call so kind and noble a man friend. Together they climbed the rocks, drank in the free air, watched the sunsets and theses. O old they had been congenial, and now they seemed more happily so. There is usually a sacredness about first joTe, and perhaps it if expected of me to record the death ot my heroine of a broken heart, but I must tell the truth. In the Autumn Rose married Dr. Wiu- grove. rne is oo "''" In the world. The first love fell from her tike fa'se blossom, while the second ripen ed into richest fruit Japan tae now a large nail factory, aud iu product are said to be equal to our best. yew Orleans was founded in 1717, under the rejfeney of th Duke of Or-roana. The OU ralm Tree. Of the multitudinous ' species of the Palm Family, the products ef a few only have found their way into American and European commerce, the most valued be ing those of the Cocoanut, the Date and the Oil Palms. Of these the appearance of the last is the least familiar to most per sons as unlike the others, it has never hitherto been accurately pictured in scien tific and popular works. In Western Tropical Africa there are vast regions thickly covered with the members of this species, and it is irom this torrid region, especially from the River Bonny, that the largest quantities of palm oil find their way into the the American markets. The trade with the natives is carried on chiefly by barter, glass beads of various tonus, sizes, and colors being among the principal articles of exchange. The trunk of the tree from which palm oil is obtained is sel dom over thirty feet highland is somiouut ed with a tuft of long pinnate leaves garn ished with pnckly petioles. The flowers are dioecious, and borne in dense heads, sometimes two feet long and two or more feet in circumference. In these closely crowded spadices the fruit is so compactly clustered that the bunches bear a strong re semblance to large pine-apples. The indi vidual fruits are about an inch and a half long, somewhat pear-shaped and when fully ripe of a bright orange color. They con sist of an outer soft, pulpy substance from which the best oil is obtained, inside which, forming about one-fourth of the whole, is a very hard, stony shell inclosing the seeds, and yielding when caushed, a clear, limpid product called palm-nut oil. The fruit when sufficiently ripe, are gathered by men, boiled in large earthenware po'.s by women, and then crushed in mortars. They are next placed in large clay vats filled with water, and women tread out the oil which rises t ) the surface and is skimmed off. It U then or.ee more boiled to get rid of the water, and packed away in barrels or casks for exportation. It still retains the color ing matter of the fruit, which is removed by subsequent processes in numerous fact vies in Europe, either by bleaching in shallow pans on the surface of hot water or by vari tous chemical methods of treatment As each drupe affords only about one-sixteenth of an ounce of pure oil and each tree only three or four pounds, an immense amount of labor is required to procure the product and a vast area of forest is annually destroy ed to supply the demands of commerce. Good palm oil is a fatty substance of the consistency of butter, of a rich orange color, a sweetish taste, and an nder like that of violets or orris root. Is is now extensively used iu the manufacture of candles, soap, and also ts an axle grease, chiefly for the wheels of railroad cars. At a temperature of from T5 degrees to 95 degrees F. it melts to a very thin fluid, and the older it is, the greater the heat required to liquify it. By age and exposure it becomes rancid and assumes a whitish tinge. It is per fectly soluble in ether, slightly so in cold alcohol, but readily dissolves in hot alcohol, though on cooling it solidities. It consists of margerine, oleine, and a solid fat like stcarinc, which is called palmatine, and constitutes two-thirds of its weight Palm oil is used more extensively for the manu facture of candles than for any other pur pose and the process, though somewhat lengthy, is highly interesting. Having been melted by a jet of steam introduced into the casks, and freed from all impurities, it is mixed with from one-seventh to one sixth of its weight of sulphuric acid and briskly agitated for about two hours in which steam maintains a temperature of about 350 degrees. The sulphuric acid and the glycerine, which is an ingredient of its component fats, are in this way decom posed and escape partly by subsequent washing. The impure acids are then distil led in copper stills steam-heated to a temp erature of 600 degrees. The dark residue in the boilers is made to yield still more oil by heavy pressure and the black refuse that remains is used for fuel. When cool ed, tbe distilled fat is broken into cakes eighteen inches long and about an inch and three-quarters thick. These are spread upon squares of cocoa-nut muting and are then piled on top of each other and submit ted to hydraulic pressure at a temperature of seventy-five degrees. The fat obtained may be run at once into candles for the European and American markets but for tropical use, it is again submitted to pres sure at a tenipcrasure of 130 degrees. George Bancroft's Workshop. Mr. Bancroft's workshop is upon tbe sec ond floor, in a large square room facing the street, in Washington, D. U. What a place of rest and study! Great leather and shaker chairs, a great desk in the middle of the room, and all about tbe walls books and books; from the ceiling to the floor, on every side, books! Not an inch of space that is not filled. And he has four rooms like this. The table was strewn with pamphlets, books and bushels of document and manucripts. The picture as you enter is one you have often seen. An old man sitting at bis desk at work, and a young secretary opposite copying, verifying and arranging rbicuments, and both encirled by walls of books. Within the four rooms composing his library, Mr. Bancroft has over twelve thousand volumes. There are larger collections of books in private houses, but Mr. Bancroft's library is remarkable for being nore selected than extensive. It is peculiarly rich in the best editions of ancient classics, and has almost all the notable works in the modern European lan guages. The great feature of the library is the manuscripts. No man in the coun try has such a collection of original docu ments of a military or political character relating to the country. He began his great historical work in lS2o. It was in this year he began to gather materials and to lay out the work that will make his name great while the world lasts. ('see or Cork. The lightr, of cork makes it superior to all other sulistanccs for life preservers, for insuring the buoyancy of life boats. It is also empioyed as buovs to float nets, and in makins waterproof shoes. It has also been converted into and used as gun wad dmca. Cork, as is well known, is a non conductor of heat and is porous. These peculiarities have been taken advantage of in tbe manufacture ot water coolers, which are much used in Spain. They are made of slabs of the wood, bent rouud circular heads of the same, and bound with hoops. The porosity of tbe cork allows the water to percolate slowly to the surface, and there to cool in evaporating, while its non-con-ductiBg nature prevents the heat of the sun from wanning tue water within. About 30 years ago an ingenious Frenchman intro duced mattresses and cushions in which cork reduced to dust or shreds was a sub stitute for feathers, hair or wool. It might be used alone or combined with the above mentioned materials. It was claimed that these would make easy beds, smooth, light and clastic, and especially well adapted for use at sea, where, in cases of emergency, they might be available as life preservers. But it is evident that cork mattresses did not become popular. A variety of walking sticks are manufactured from young cork tree in Africa, and Spanish black, a au rior pljajHOtt is made of calcined cork. YloUa Making. The question whether violin making is a lost art is answered in the negative by G. L. Chapin, who has been an enthusiastic student of the subject for thirty years. Nothing relating to music, he says, ias been more fruitful of silly legends, romance aad superstition than the violin. Not that the old masters did not produce some grand instruments. But it is a mistake to sup. pose that they worked by a rule, system or secret, which invariably gave good results; that a violin is excellent simply because it bears the name of Da Salo, Maggini, Aniati, Stradivarius, or Guarnerius, or that the best productions of these masters can never again be equalled. Stradivarius, for in stance, made more poor than good violins, and made more bad ones than any other maker of the great period. He is said to have turned out 2000 instruments, but only twelve really fine cnes of his make are now known to be in existence. Da Salo and Maggini each made less than 500 instru ments, but only alout a dozen of each maker are extant In a recent work on the subject, Charles Goffrie, after an examina tion of the Creuionas in the collections of Plowden, Gillott, Villaume, Bojour, and others, says that he "found that they were decidedly hard in tone, resembling new in stalments. And Prof. Lc Brun, who played in the same concerts with Paganini, and had in his hands nearly all the noted Cremonas fifty and sixty years ago says that the Guarnerius from which that great violinist drew such wonderful tones would have a.tracted little attention in the hands of an ordinary professional. Mr. Chaplin's conclusion is that "the old makers made some instruments as good as can be made, but emphatically no better. Also, they made some instruments as good as can be made now, but tbe larger number made by them are not up to the present standard of power, and the few that are up to this standard are in the hands of artists or in collections, and entirely out of the market A large number of good violins have been made since the great period, and it is safe to say that a large number of instruments bearing the marks of the old makers and accredited to them were never near Cre- j mona. The old instiuuients do not ap pear to have been made according to any fixed rule or principle, but on the "cut and try" plan. Nor is there any uniformity in their make or published directions concern ing their construction. Mr. Chaplin tells us that he has owned two of the masters' instruments of the great period and fifty instruments of the best reputed imitators, has examined more than 2"00 other violins of various grades and patterns, and has read what has been published on the subject, but that he has failed to find "even how long to make the f 's iu a given sized ins'ru meut, to say nothing of where they should be placed.' Hegives certain ratios, meas urements, and directions for constructing a violin in accordance with the laws of sound, and remarks that "instruments made to demonstrate this theory can be seen." Violins, he claims, can and should be made on scientific principles, as other musical in struments are. As good violins can be produced here as have been made in Cre mona, and the chief reason whv this is not done, he says, is that the peo(ie will not pay for them. Balks for Cnildrea. No wise mother will put her young ehil- dren into ouite cold water in winter time. nor with a cold, and above all, will never allow them to be washed and bathed In a draught, on the same principle of consist ency that plenty of fresh air is good when it is not damp or foggy, but draughts are most injuriou. Even in summer the chill should be taken off the water in which young children or delicate persons are bathed, whde in winter it is doibtful whether even the stronrest man is bene fited by bathing in water at or but little above the freezing point The cold bath is not advisable when followed by no warm glow; neither when followed bv a rush of bio d to the head in both ot which cases tepid or warm water should be sub- slituted. There live many men (and women, toe ("with souls so dead that they will go into a cold bath, or send their children, when they have some feverish or irruptive complaint The danger of this should be obvious that the disease re ceives a most violent check, ana tue per son's life is even threatened. If, however, vou rxrsist in tbe use of cold water in cold weather for children, succeeded bv yourself or no necessary after-glow of warnith, and will not have the common sense to use warm or tepid water, then put in a tablcspoonful of spirit of some sort into your bath whisky is best, though eau de Cologne or spirits of wine will co and you will have j'our glow. This often prevents chilblains in persons of slow circulation. On the other hand, it is injuries to manv people to have the water even approaching to hot Those ! who bathe regularly the year round in cool water are rarely sensitive to cold, and the most delicate women may use the sponge bath daily, not only with impunity, but with advantage. To do this immersion is not necessary and no one need complain that they cannot hare a "good wash" be cause they do not happen to possess a bath. for this may be easily accomplished after Miss Nightingale's plan, in the rules she laid down for her lady-nurses who accom panied ber to the Crimea; even if they had but the poor accommodation of a basin they were totlioroughly sponge themselves from "top to toe, which is possible to the poorest of us. A Great Work. Somewhere about 3,000 workmen, or 700 wagons, seventeen or eighteen lo comotive engines, three steam "navvies" and a quantity of minor machinery of vari ous kinds have been engaged since 1875 at the southeast endof London in a work com pared with which the building of the pyramids with modern appliances would have been no very signal feat Hitherto the one entrance to the Victoria docks from the Thames had been at Blackwatl Jliu nil point but, now there is a dek cajiable of receiving all vessels, no matter what tucy mi.rht ru Thive end half miles of walls have been built, inclosing ninetv aires of Mr- D'Eres'. s sudden spparilioo on the water. These walls are forty feet high, j matrimonial horizon caused no iucoosiiier five feet thick at the top, and eighteen or Me sensation, as may readily be coujic u'meteenfeet thick at the bottom, the'tured, aud half the maniaieable young whole of this enormous mass being compos-j Wica iu ,own prepared their arrowy ed of solid concrete, for which 80,mi0 tons smiles and glance for bis heart among of Portland cement have been used. Some 4,000,000 cubic feet of earth have been dug out It may assist the imagination somewhat to state that if it were filled into ordinary carts the vehicles would form an unbroken line 7,000 miles long. The ex. cavations have gone through a submerged I forest, and among other curiosities dug out have been a reindeer' horn, a Roman vase, and what is supposed to be ancient a British canoe carved out of solid oak. Tbe latter is now in the British museum. The new entrance below oolwich will save about three and a half miles of river navi gation, which, in the case of vessels with heavy draft, is of course a matter of very great importance. The London and St Katharine's and Victoria Docks Company are now prepared for vessels of all kinds, ! not excluding the largest ironclads of the British navy. The cost has been eetiniat 1 ed roundly at $9,00,000. A Pleco ofBomaacs, Recently Mr. Robert Preston and wife, a couple who were happily united a few days ago, arrived in Little Rock, Arkansas, en route for Texas. The story of their mar riage is rather a romantic one ; not that it abounds in hair-breadth escapes or of blood in large or small quantities, but that well, that it is romantic About four years ago Miss Emma Rol- land, of Galveston, visited ber aunt in ar ren county, Kentucky. It was summer, the season was, and one evening the girl aat in the yard, half reading and half re garding the enormous bumble-bees buzzing around. A Warren county bumble-bee will attract attention anywhere. He can make you think tliat he is c angling himself in vour hair, and, looking around, you see him ten feet away, clinging to a thistle- bloonL That's eooueh about the bee. A footstep didn't arouse the young lady. It was a voice that said, '"can 1 get a drink of water f" Two arms and the chin of a tramp leaned on the fence. He was dressed in the tramp's garb, a wardrobe at once so de scribable and indescribable. "I say, can 1 get some water ?"' "Ves," said the girl. "Must I go around to the gate or climb over the fence f "llotb, if you choose." "That's the way I like to hear people talk," said the tramp, climbing over and approaching. "Now, where'sthe water" "I'll bring it" "You'd better bring the well, for I'm dryer than a barrel of broniophyle." 1 be gin went to the house aud returned with a bucket of water. When the man had finished drinking she did not thiuk that he bad exaggerated his thirst In fact she did not think that his comparison had been adequato. .. "What book are you reading t" "Mill on the Floss." "Overrated. I never liked it All depth or no depth, I don't know which. Strained characters or no characters, don't know which. The novelist has tried to write a story without a well-tied ued plot, and has failed. Goldsmith's success as a plotless and charming writer was a bad example.' You shouldn't tear my favorite book to pieces. I like George Elliot and all her works." 2"You don't like 'Mill on the Floss. You have Ijca nodding over it for ths last half hour. You only pretend to read it because you imagine that in doing so you develop literary taste." "1 think, sir, you are impudent" 'But truthful. Here's a hook you should read," and the tramp took from his ragged coat a tittered copy of Burton's Anatomy of melancholy. "Dr. Johnson said that this book was the only work that could in duce him to get out of bed morniugs sooner than his regular time of rising." "And that's why you like it," remarked the girL taking the book. "If Dr. Johnson hadnt made that remark you would not nna tue work so charming. ' That all right Give m me some more water. The couvcrsntion was pursued until the tramp accepted an invitation to supper. His idea of Button and Johnson was soon I covered up with batter cakes. The tramp, jMr. l'reston, remained all night .Next , morning, when he annouueed his intention of 1-'Tiug, the girl accompanied him to the r where sue sat when Ue hailed her. Why do you tramp around ; you have no home f 'Yes, as to the home. Don't know as to the tramping." "Whiskv?' "Whisky." "Why don't you quit ?" "I will." "When f" "Now, under one condition. That you will consent to be my wife. Meet me under this tree four years from to-dav," "I will." 'Good bye," and he climbed the fence ; aDa . Wtt8 g'e- No correspondence was i carried on between them. The manly, uanusome lace of the tramp hung before the girl like a portrait Deep, earnest eves, a merry laugh, accompanied tbe tramp. Several weeks ago the young lady visited her aunt One evening last week she sat under a tree in the yard where four years ago she nodded over a book. Bees b-izzed roun.l the same bees seemingly. On her laP "J "Mill on the Hoes;" near her a tattered copy of "Burton's Anatomy of alighted aud climbed tue fence. ".Mr. Preston." "Miss IMIand." There was no indication of a tramp in the haudsomely dressed gentleman. The clear, earnest eyes showed no lurid light, kindled by Satan's bn ath. Clasped bauds, kisses, renewal of vowi. That evening the buggy went to Bowling Green. Next morning a happy couple left on a sobthern bound train. The Lottery of Llfs. Mary Leslie, having been left a poor or phan. sought to earn her living by working as a designer in wall papers. This hurt the feelings of her fashionable cousins, the Per civals, with the exception of young Tom, who admired her greatly. Mr. D'Ercsby, a millionaire, wantiug designs for an ele gant house he was about to build, was re ferred to Mary, and stepping to her table at the furniture establishment "Are you the drawing girl?" he demanded, somewhat brusquely. ! "Yes, sir, I am," said Mary, demurely, j "Well," said Mr. D'Eresby, after a mo tion, i cicnt's survey ot the work upon which she was engaged, "I believe you're the very one to carry out my ideas. My carriage is at the door get into it" Mary, bewildered, was whirled up along Piccadilly, by the side of a nun who talked of Michael Angelo, Raphael and Leonardo da Vinci, as if they were people he bad just met It was very 4rauge, but, after all, there was an elemeut of "niceness" about it Mary Leslie had had a dearth I j - of adventures m her life up to the present uiMCi l"e u musj prouusc 'of one. others, JoaepUiue Percivsi. "1 must marry rich," argued the young lady, "for I have such expensive tastes, and I should so enjoy a handsome home. I'm sure I'm as good-looking as the aver age, with a Uttle lily powder, aud my hair nicely crrpc, and there s no reason I shouldn't win the prUe. At all events, I'll try." "That a it ' said i un, scornfully ; "go la and win." " 1 ou re a goose, Tom . said Miss J'er- cival, somewhat discomfited. I may be a goose," answered Tom, "but I ain't a girl, glory be thanked ! What fools they aU are except Polly Lea- lie! Miss Percival was introduced by dint of special maneuvering that very evening to Mr. D'Ereaby, and congratulated herself on making considerable headway in the good graces of that extremely eligible gen tleman. And as time went on, appearances grew more and more favorable. Mr D'Eresby was evidently amused by her artless prattle and lisping observations, and it was surely but one step from amuse ment to devxion. To be sure, he never said anything that she could construe into special meaning on the matrimonial ques tion ; but as long as time and the dictionary were open to hi m, who knew what might next transpire? Sirs. Percival began gravely to consider the personal merits of sttin and reps silk for a wedding dress; while Tom, shrewdest of them all, bit the end of his slate pencil, and griniv.T like a gjrilla." One beamy summer morning. Miss Pei cival made one of a party of ladies who were ad idlted to view the elegant D'Eresby mansion, now just on tbe verge of comple tion. Josephine was in hige spirits, of course. 'He certainly must have meant some thing," thought Josephine, 'or he never would have asked me so particularly to come and view the rooms." Whether Mr. D'Eresby's "meaning" ap plied equally to the seven other maidens and two blooming widows who accom panied her, Miss Percival, not being of a strictly logical nature, never paused to con sider. "How do you like this room?" asked Mr. D'Ercsby, as they paused in one whieh looked as much like the heart of a blue bell as a furnished apartment well could da A velvet caqiet in shaded azures a blue paper strewn with tiny fern leaves in gold blue satin cbtirs, and a ceiling just tinted with the pale cerulean of tbe midday sky it preserved a strange aud pleasing indi viduality in every feature and corner. "Oh. it's bee-yu-ti-ful." murmured Jo sephine, clasping her kid-gloved hands In a species of lady-like ecstacy. "I am glad you like it, said D Ercsby, moving back a tiny marble statuette of Eurydicc, and critically adjusting an aqua rium in the window. "This is to be Mrs. D'Eresby's sittinroom !" "Your mother?" asked Josephine, smil- inirly interested. "No my wife." 'Oil, you puzzling man !" cried Jose phine, making a lit lie dive at him with her lace fan. "You know very well you're not married. "I shall be very Soon." Miss Percival blushed. Tue seven other youn ladies looked enviously at her, and the two widows tossed their heads, and muttered something about "artful minxes," wuile Mr. D'Eresby threw open a door lead ing to a suite of rooms painted aud panelled in green aud silver. ihe first apartment, evidently a sitting- room, w as not empty. A girl in a plain, gray walking-dress stood in front of one i of the malachite mantels, makiug some : littie drawing or nieruomn.luui on the back of a letter. She turned as the party flowed into the room, and Josephine Percival stood face to face with her cousin, Mary Late. . "You nccd'nt stare so, Joe!" said Tom! Percival, who was looking over the shoul- derofthc young artiste; "it's Polly Les-1 lie and sue designed all these wall-paper i patterns; yes, every one of them." "n bo luqiured Jlrs. Thatbleus Tor- 1 rington, the prettier of tbe two widows. ! Miss Percival turned away, with a face I the color of new uiabogany. It s only a designing girl that that inaninia has employed at different times," faltered Josephine, secretly resolving that the offending artizauess should have such a "talking to" this evening, as she should not soon forget "I beg your pardon. Miss Percival," said Mr. D'Eresby, catching her words, and coloring high with haughty anger. "To avoid any more such awkward mistakes, let me introduce to you all. Miss Leslie, my future wise!"' Look at Joe! look at Joe!" croaked Tom, Ua malicious glee. "She looks as it she d been taking a quinine pill! Hut nobody had eves for an v one but the pretty young girl in the gray walking suit. w hose blushes and dimples as sue crept , t lire. All this could well euough be with shyly to M. D'Eresby's outstretched arms, jout the knowledge, as it was, of her hus looking infinitely charming. i baud Beside the ample "pin money" It was the romantic truth. Mr. D'Eres-1 allowed her in the marriage-settlement, by had lost his heart hopelessly among the I large returns came to her from tnist aratiesquea and JaDvnuths designed by Mary Leslie's pencil ; and she had scarcely j she went too deep. lUr risks were uufort fiuished the patterns for the new house be- uuate; and though she might have reeov fore Mr. D'Eresby asked her to come aud ered from all this, UKvst iuopportuuely her live in it Tom had long been her only con- fldant a strange one, yet not unappreci-1 ative. "I don't deserve to be so happy, Tom," said she, smiling, yet tearful, as she told j -' the scandal of any legal process, can hiui. celed her liabilities by a very considerable "Ye, you do." said Tom, huggiai her like a young bear. ".My eves! what will Joe say when she hears it ?' And Miss Josephine, instead of being bride of the grand D'Eresby wedding, was forced lo descend into the very secondary position of bridesmaid. 'Am t it all jolly I was master Toms comment. Tsietiaiuo fWMl. Quoits is by no means a difficult game to play, seeing that neither great strength or science is required; on the other hand skill and dexterity, which are both acquir ed by practice, will make boy. youth, or mau a skilled quoit-player. There is of course a considerable knack in pitching a quoit nd tbe player needs strength of wrist; for the acquisition of an accurate aim rests entirely with the degree of steadi ness in this member when delivenug the missile. So long as the space surroundine; the "pitch" is fairly level Ihe intermediate space may be rough or broken. Quoits are of differeut sizes and different weights, but few pmd players us; tbe heavier weapons, for, after playing a moderate length of time, tbey over-tax Uie strength, and a be-j ginncr should always use the lightest he can possibly secure. Steel que its are, in our opinion, preferable to either iron or brass, and as much care should lie taken of them as with a pair of steel skates. .The appended rules which were agreed to at the Binninghain Conference in ISO;), are still generally adopted by quoit players. First. That ihe distance trout pin to pin shall be uiueleen yards, and that the player shall stind level with the pin and deliver bis qunt at tbe first step. Second. That no quoit be allowed w hich measures more than eight inches j Soon all the important question cometh t xtemal diameter and that the weight may i up regarding the prospects for crawling un be unlimited I der the canvas, and they wax enthusiastic. Ihird. the clay. I hat the pins be one inch above Fourth. That all measurements shall be taken from any visible part of the pin to the nearest visible part ot tbe quoit No clay or quoit to be disturbed. Filth. That no quoit shall count unless fairly delivered In the clay free from the outer run, and that no quoit on its back shall count unless it first strikes another quoit or the pin. That no quoit shall count unless it first strikes another quoit ar the pin. Sixth. That eac4 player shall deliver his quoit in eucccssion, his opponent then following. " ' Seventh. That an umpire shall be ap pointed, and in all cases his decision shall be final. Lord Bytoo's Daochter. Few persons probably have ever read the commencing and concluding stanzas of the third canto of "Child Harold' without a deep interest in the "Ada" io touchingly apostrophizes. The story of her life, inti mately enough known in thiwe repertories of un writ en biographies of tbe anstocracy the Paul Mall Club has not often been told abroad. It will be remembered that the first and rnly born of that unhappy marriage of Lord Byron to Miss Milbank was just five weeks old when the mother and wife, for reasons never satisfact orily explained, returned to her father's house. Here the infant rrew into girlhood under the care of her mother, aud here, af ter Lady Byron's accession to her property, where the foundations of Aegust. Ada's education laid. Inheriting urcommon genius, though, as we shall presently ex plain, wholly diverse from her father's, she was brought up with the most tender care, and educated by the most thorough train ing. Her personal beauty developed with her mind. She is described by a person who frequently saw her, when, at the age of twenty years, she was living t ih her mother at Clifton Springs, as one of the most queenly presence and graceful car riage, her complexion frejh, her features of perfect contour, her eyes large and brilli ant, her head set upon her shoulders like her lather's, her hair chesnut, abundant and wavy, and her person slightly embon point, bnt perfect in proportions. To these charms there were added a voice of great sweetness, ard a vivacity in conversation that held in thrall all who approached her. I tier tastes, however were fir pure mathe matics. M Uetber owing to her education i or sue reaa no poctrv, and never saw a work of Byron till past her puberty or to inheritance from her mother, her under standing of the exact sciences was excelled by no woman of her time, except Mrs. Som- erville, aud, indeed, bv few of the other sex. In proof of her extraordinary attain ments in this respect, it is mentioned by the late Charles Bahhage, in his "Passages from the Life of a Philosopher," that she informed him that she had translated for j amusement "Menabrea's Memoir of the i Analytical Engine'' from the Itihliothcqiie L niverselle. " He propositi that she should auu notes ot ner own. i uis she uuL ex tending them to three times the length of the oriii-sl memoir, Babbage says that to all perous capable of understanding the reasoning it furnishes "a demoastiation of analysis are capable of being executed by machinery." This translation with the notes may I found iu VoL XXXI of the "Transactions of the Royal Society." Ada Byron was married to the' Earl of Lovelace in M:irch, ISu.V. The marnage was not an unhappy one. Her husttand. respMable in talents and domestic habits. Ird Lieutenant of Miscount r and hiirh in social position, suitable in aite, and posscss- ed of large estates, resr-irded his wife with minded feelimrs of aifection and admint- 1 tion. I'nwillim; that she should be known publicly as authoress, he. nevertheless, of- tenerthau once cave permission that certain of her articles' on various branches of science, about which thinking men made inquiry, might lie adnowledged her's; Children were born to them, their tastes were no more dissimilar than was consis. tent with common if not promotive of un- usual banuony: and their home was often spoken of by those old enough to remember the two, by furuislung a happy contrast to that which her motner had abandoned twenty years before. But Lvly Lovelace craved excitemeut Neither town life nor country was sutllcient to satisfy her inheri ted desire for constant stimulus. Neither i her study nor her pen, the care of her children, nor the pleasures of society, ber rank among the aristocracy, nor tbe a.t miration her beauty and Rifts received wherever she appeared, were sufficient. She speculated iu the ftiuds, let at horse races, bought and sold in the stock market, anil Anally, during the railway mania, that, un der the lead of Hudson, was second only in its universal. ty among the rich and great 9outh Sea bubble of the early days of the last centurv, partook largely in the ven- muu ueiu ior ner in ner own ngiu. um attorney became a baukrupt and her oper- ons were exposed, in his assets net ore ;tne liMirts, to the wirliu lernbly morti- bed, she appealed to her husband, who, to pecuniary sacrifice. The hock however. was too great for hrr excitable nature, and 11 has always been believed by those who knew wuat loiioweo mat tue shame she felt at the exposure was the gemote, if not the proximate, evise of her di-afh. The Boy Tke rtrene. The small boy lookcth upon the circus poster when it is red, white and blue; and becometh intoxicated with delight. I or what is it that carrietb more joy to the heart of the small boy than a dead wall covered wit b circus posters ? And as Uie by gnzcth on the pictures ot indescribable animals, and upn the im possible antics of lightly clothed men and women, his imagination uiaketh all the pic tures realities and he is willing to stake his reputation as a champion marble player that the coming circus is the best in the world. And he longetU to go. So he is joined by other boys of bis age. ' and tbey all gaze upon tin- posters and drink I in the lieauties thereof, j And they marvel among themselves. And oue boy sayeth he has never seen so , wonderful a display of circus pictures, Aud they soon fall to speculating among J themselves as to whether each performer really tloeth all the thiugs which he is re presented as doing. Anil another one sayelU he baa seen as wonderful performances as are pictured out on the posters. But his companions laugh him to scorn. So it cometh to pass that the boy who hath seen all these things is forced to hold his peace (providing he has not already de voured it), for verily ihe majority rulelh 1 among the lo a. ami in their munis they are ad in the circus on the froot scat, each one having found a j good place to crawl under. But soon one of their number recollevtcth the fact that h was once caught in the act. and a he dilate on the strength of the can- j clotles, for which they have an endless vas men in general, and the one who col- variety of designs, many of tbeai of cou lared him in particular, the courage of the ' aidcrable merit This stage of ciouuitioo group oozea out of their individual finger , is also often marked by a corrvaxodiat; coda. j development ot the potter's art and of siu.i But the company adopteth preamble and , in ornamenting vessels. Prom tbe ueth.l resolutions te the effect that it is neceesary of using the whole stuff ot thr bark to the that each boy attend the circus. ', art of separating its fibers and spinning and And one layeth out a route in his neigh- weaving thera into cknh is a great step. borhood, and woe unto the piece of old iron woicn uis ringers ciutCDea, lor veruy in tne cad it contributeth to the circus fund. Any man w ho hath ever been a small boy knoweth thee things to be true, Ooassla vs. Moeqaitor. A few yaars ago we had some peach trees which being on a wall exosed to draugth, were annually blighted. One died, and the new wood of tbe others were not more that a band's length. A scien tific, friend advised me to try a weak solu tion of quassia to water them with, and the success was complete. Blight was prevented. The first year the trees bore well and the wood was elbow length or more. I next tried quassia in the vinery. Instead of lime-washing the walls to get rid of the green By, one watering with the quassia dismissed them in a day. Our heed gardener, who bad previously much experience in nursery grounds, wondered that he had never heard of it before. He now uses it on all rases as a protectiou from flies and blight The dilution goes a long way: one pound of chips of quassia wood boiled and n. boiled in other water, until he has eight gallons of tile extract for his garden engine. He finds it unadvu able to use it stronger for some plants. This boiling makes the quassia adhesive, and being principally applied tit the under leaf, because mist blight settles there, it is not readily washed off by run. tjuaasut is used in medicine as a powerful tonic. and the chips are s.ld by chemists at from sixpence to a shilling per pound. The tree is idigenous to the West Indies and to South America. And now as to gnats and uioequitoea, a young friend of .mine, severely bitten by nuxquitocs and un willing to be seen so disfigured, sent for souie quassia chips aud had boiling water poured upon them. At night after wash ing, she dipped her hands into the quassia water and left it to dry npon her face. 1 bis was a perfect protectiou, and contin ued to be so w ben ever applieiL The pas tilles sold iu Florence and elsewhere, which are vaunted to be safeguards agaiust mosquitoes, are lrom my own experience, of no use. At the approach of winter, w hen flies aud guats get into the houses and sometimes bite venomously, a grand child of nunc, eighteen mouths old was thus attacked. I gtvc the nurse se.me of my weak solution of q'u.-i i, to be left to dry on its face, and he was not bitten again. It is is Inocuous to children, and it may be a protection aim against bed utstcts, which 1 hare ha t not tin- oppor tunity of trying. When thr solution of quassia is strong, it is we'l krown to be an active tly-poisoc, and is mixe t with s:ig:r to unmet dies but this U not strong enough to kill.at once. If it be trite that niKiu tocs have been imported into one of the gnitt h4els in the south of IamhIoo, it might be very useful to anoint some of the furniture with it. Then a strong solution with sugar, set about the room, ought to clear them out. I mile Shawls. An India shawl, like a wonderful paint ing, possesses beauty untold to the culti vated eye. More wonderful still is this beauty when we think of the long, weary hours occupied in making it, and the many stitches inserted slowly aud carefully by different htii.ts. The odd-looking leal you admire in one corner, aud the gav- colored one in another, exemplify the old sbiry of "extremes meeting ; for the pos sibility is that they were made fifty miles apart, and then wedded bvetlicr by the calculating merchant. It is a little curious to think that in this manufacture the maker dues not know his pattern, even if he makes the entire shawl ; for he makes by written diieclions, and ou the wrong side, using a needle very much like a match sliarpened at txth euds. To make a hand some shawl requires one year's steady work. and cue is insensibly reminded of life's owu story the thread going in ami out for so king a tune with no knowledge of what the result will be, "1'ho Vale of Cashmere" lo-day furnishes in one way as many beau ties as it did when Moore sang i f it ; aud if Lnlla Kookh des uot weu the soft, cliuging drapery, English and American hcaulics do. Orienta'ism being sought for in ail its phases just now. La M sle decrees that shawls shall be worn more largely thau ever before, and suggests a gracef iu method for it is hard to wear a shawl gracefully that will look well on all ; it is, of course, the dolman. With little trouble an ludu shawl may be transformed iuto one, tbe dull gieen or chilly -looking blue that forms the centre of the suawl Imng caught up iu wrinkles by au Oriental silk picquet lo as sume the shnie of a hood. Souie ladies have their shawls cut into coats, which are elegaut and stylish-looking, but oue tiuds upon exaiuuution that no woman is bar baric enough to cut a rtul India shawl. Shawls used tor this purpose are generally imitations of ihj ludia, the IVcca and the Valley Cashmere. Au exquisite work of art is a Delhi shawl, which, alter having all the riches of Oriental colorings bestowed upon it, is further graced by threads of gold that show their presence by gleaming and glistening at each movement of the wearer. A Cashmere variety, made iu France, in black, crsa:u and cwk 'i, with soft cHngiug looking fringe to milch. and will be extensively used at the seaside in combination with bright dresses that need something neutral to toue tueiu down. Ihe Trtllle flsutsol th World. Men's first steps in civilisation may be traced almost directly in their efforts to clothe themselves, and their first essays in skilled labor are made iu the adaptation of the materials which nature has furnished them to use for dress. ( n the kinks of the White Nile are tribes who content them selves with a simple apron of leaves, or less; and fir Samuel Baker mticcd thata great advance in general civilization had taken place there when, after having spent several months among people of that graik', he came into I nyorvs where tbe people wore garments tashioucd out of the baik 4 a fig tree, which they had to prepare ly soaking and lowtiug with a mallet. Thrift seetiml to follow naturally uia the ac quisition of the taste for clothing, for the flg trees have to lie cultivated to secure a sutllcient supply. Accordingly we are told, when a man takes a w ife, he plants a cer tain number of thr trees in his garden, as a provision for the wants of the family be has in prospect. A grade alove the naked rc are the Papuansof New Guiuea, with their knn girdles of grass or pahu k av, and aliove these are the Ma-Tis ot New Zea land, with their clrsiki of the leave of an agave-like plant laid upon each other like at-alcs. Th-; Sou'h Set islau.lers have in tlx Zpaptr ilbrrry a plant which serve the ; same purpose to them as a ng tree to the people ot t'nywet, from the brk of which tbey prepare the tajia by soaking and btat ing. They illustrate another drvelipment of industry in the adiromcnt of their , The process ot spinning and wemvtng are . as vnea as tne peooie woo curry uu iet, j aad are Largely determined by the nature ot the material to which they have to he ' appltal
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