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B. F. SCHWEIER,
THE 0053TITUTIOI THE UJIOI AID TEE ESPOBOEMEJT OF TEE LAWS.
Editor, and Proprietor.
VOL. XXXIV.
MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA.. WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1880.
NO. 44.
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VOICES OF THS BELLS.
Chime, chime, chime !
Chime ont from your old gray towers, ye bell,
The bymn ol tae Sabbath morn,
fxlemnly rveet your muse swells,
tfweetlv 6olmn the tale it tells,
Of a Sabbath day now born.
Calling from far and from near to prayer,
Tremll ng ye fall on the soft, alia air.
Clang, clang, clang ! .
Ciat g tot with your loudest tongue, the tale
Of tbe fire fiends march of death ;
iULmg tbe stoutest heart to quail,
r.iJJiny tlio rudJy cheek turn pale.
An J it f?e's the fiery breath,
or the monet'r that hurls in its wrath,
Deslruc 10 u aui death on our path.
Teal, peal, peal !
l'eal out, ye bells, and nterrJy greet
Tue birth of tbe bridal morn.
I'loe&om, je flowers, in f i agrance sweet,
ilk Di a i.th for fair young feet,
With never a lurking tt ora.
Ilapiiioees, bope, anj harmony dwell.
In your glad cadenoa, oh marriage bell.
Toll, ton. toll !
Toll in your old gray tower oh bell.
Above where the weary sleep !
Toll f r tbe paaxiug soul s knell.
That, founding ab.ve the duh and swell
Of tbe nver dark aud deep,
May warn from tbe rocks and ahoals of sin
Tbe souls tliat are jef unfathered in.
Thus, with s tongue of Tarring tone.
That ever in shadow swings ;
Echoing back the eed heart's moan.
Denying tbe peal of joy to none,
A leeson your ministry brings
Of sympathy shared alike w.ta all,
Bear they bridal wreath o funeral paiL
Love and Hope-
"A ('icen of hearts.'' Such was the
name the admirers of Kstelle G'.yndon had
given to her, and, petted and praised for
her grace and beauty as she had always
been, it was hardly to be wondered at that
the girl had come to the age of eighteen
with a conviction that not for hei were the
trials of life.
As she stands now, beneath the shade of
the old eok which guards ber favorite seat,
the most casual observer could not help but
pronounce her rarely beautiful. But the
lovely mouth is marred by a haughty ex
pression, as with averted bead she listens
coldly to the young man by her side.
It is Douglass Macdonald, and in earnest
tones he is speaking thus:
Ou, Estelie, can it be that 1 have de
ceived myself In thinking that you cared
for ui ? Acd r.il :Ms summer, in which 1
have been so foolishly happy, have you
only been playing with me! It cannot be
true ; you cannot be so heartless ! I have
been told that Foster Severne is the favored
suitor who has superseded mi; but I said
that until you confirmed it with your own
lips I would not believe it. Oh, my dar
ling, whom I love more than life, do not be
so cold: Look up, Estelle, and tell me it is
false!"
Kstelle hesitated. Only the previous day
another had laid his heart at her feet, and
with it the richest fortune in all the country
round.
She had not given her answer, but in
her young heart pnde was very strong, and
she felt thai to be mistress of The Elms
would be an enviable position.
Douglass eagerly watching her expressive
features, conjectured her thought?.
"I see!" he exclaimed; "it was true
the report I heard, Y ou intend to many
Foster Severne dissipated man of the world
though he be simply because he is rich in
this world's goods.' I came to day to ask
you a qudstlon upon which a great deal de
pends. Two openings are before me one
to settle in an hone-Table position in my na
tive town; the other to go abroad, far away
to the distant land of China. You do not
love me my choise is made. This will be
my last farewell. To-morrow will see me
on my way to a foreign shore."
lie grasped her hand, wrung it; then,
without waiting for answering words, turn
ed and left her. She watched his tall form
till it passed out of sight. Then sudden
ly, with a lightning flash, the knowledge of
what she had done came to her, and she re
alized that m rejecting Douglass MacdonahTs
love she had wrecked beyond retrieval the
happiness of her life.
That evening we see her in the midst of
a fasliionable throng. As he looks down at
the woman on his arm, Foster Severne s
heart leaps triumphantly as he thinks bow
proud he will be when he can call her his
own. As if by accident, he leads her to
the conservatory, where, amid the splash of
fountains and the fragrance of flowers, he
can speak undisturbedly. There once more
he offers hw his hand and heart ah that
is left of it and, never doubting what it
will be, awaits his answer.
Not a moment does Estelle waver.
iltr reply is uncompromising: "Mr. Se
verne, I cannot become your wife.
An angry flush springs to the young man s
face.
"Miss Glyndon! you cannot mean what
yousav! Think a Utile longer! iou sure
ly do not mean to refuse such a position as
I can give youf "
If Estelle has been fearfcl that she will
cause him pain, all such idea is swept away
bv hi words, and she cannot help compar
ing him to the lover who in her false pnde
she rejected. ,
When she reached home, Estelle is called
upon to bear another trial. Truly the day
has been a hard one for the girl upon whom
hitherto the winds have not been suffered to
blow to roughly.
f,.i Foster Severne,
when you know it was the dearest wish of
my heart that you should become his
Then let me tell you that in doing so you
i.. Am twh ir father and yourseii
UOC VJlLlVi ejvM j -
to penury. I am a ruined man! tor a
. year past I have seen the crasn mH
and it is even now at hand. Estelle, there
is yet time; retract your refusal, wcome
tSeverne's wife and all wdl be saved
r,.ii- . Kl . ber father! WOTOS,
fust angry and then imploring, fell npon her
eats. .
"Father, I cannot! It would be ajln
were I to marry Urn. for 1 love
..... J ,t Mr. Glyndon
Katie a step forward; then, with an excla
mation, he raised bis hand to his head, ug
gered, and fell to the loor.
Poor Estelle I Bitter were the Jays that
followed! On the very eve of hi. failure
her father was stricken with paralysis, and
before long the girl found herself homeless
end almost penniless.
After the first shock had passed, then the
noble nature that had slumbered quiescent
80 lonK n Estelle Glyndon'. soul sprang to
the surface. Steadily refusing all offers of
assistance, she set herself unflinchingly
mid the ranks of the world's workers. It
was easier to obtain employment in the
neighboring city than in their own small
town, and to the city Estelle went.
After thee years had glided by, Estelle
was called to her dying parent; and as she
Knelt by the bed where be lay calm and
still, she felt that she was, indeed, alone.
Better to be as she was, poor and hard-
worked, than the unloved wife of Foster
Severne.
It was evening, few months later. The
streets were wet with the fast-falling rain.
Clasping a large parcel in her anus, a girl
ish figure essays to cross a crowded thor
oughfare. A carriage swiftly passes. There
is a cry in a woman's voice. Then, amid
a babel of voices, "How sad!" "Who is
shef 4-Ilow did it hanrtKn?" a lir, frtrm
. , " a
is borne upon men's arms into the nearest
house. There is no clue by which to tell
who the unconscious girl is.
"It does not matter who or what she is,"
says the kind minister into whose house the
stranger has been carried. "We will eare
for her," And so, instead of being sent to
the hospital, the sufferer remained at Doc
tor Stewart's home.
Another week went by, and one morn
ing, with a beaming face, old Doctor Stew
art came into the room where bis wife and
Estelle were sitting.
"What do you think, wife? our boy is
coming home! He will be here this week.
Isn't that news.
Tears of joy sprang to the old lady's
eyes.
"My dear boy! how glad I shall be to see
him!"
When her husband had left the room,
Mrs Stewart explained to Estelle that it
was her dead brother's son, who was as
dearly loved by her husband and herself as
though he had been their own, who was
thus eagerly expected.
"It was a sad blow to us when he went
so far away, she concluded, "and what
made it sadder still was that the noble lad
carried with him a heart full of pain. Some
fashionable beauty bad bewitched him, and
then had deliberately crushed out his hap -
pluess. But I hope aud trust he will return
cured of his heart wound.
Estelle winced as ehe listened.
The days passed until the one came in
which the expected guest was to arrive.
Clad in a simple dress of white, Estelie
was reclining upon the library sofa when
the carriage wheels sounded upon the
gravel.
She heard the eager tones of welcome;
and then the voices approached the room in
which she was. The door opened, and
there, older and graver than she remember
ed him, but still the same, stood DougUuw
MacJouald!
"Estelle!" he cried, "my darling! 1
came to seek you, and I have found you al
ready! Oh, tell me that I am welcome
that you are glad to see me. 1 only lately
heard of your refusing Mr. Severne and of
your misfortunes. Then in my heart a
faint hope sprang into existence, and I de.
termined to return and seek you and try
once more my fate. Can it indeed be Unit
my hope is not to prove in vain!"
Estelle lifted her eyes to his, and ip their
luminous depth Douglass read his answer.
Later, everything was explained to Doug-
bias; how it was that he had so unexpected
ly found Estelle in his uncle's home, ai-d
all that I'ad occurred since they had parted.
"My dear friend, you little thought wh
was the laenjonaoie, ni-arucss gin wi
refused your boy's true heart," said Ef telle,
softly, to old Mrs. Stewart, as the happy
group of four were drawn together about
the lamp that evening; "but you will for
give her, I am sure, when she promises
that henceforth that boy's bhppiness shall
be her foremost care, and that she will try
to the utmost or her power to repay him for
the Dain which, through her foolish, wick
ed pride, she once caused him to suffer."
A Treat fisher's Tarns.
tt.vinir fished the lakes and streams of
New England for thirty years, 1 have had
some curious incidents occur, auu moum
the following might interest your readers:
While fishing on a mountain stream, in
swift water, I bad a rapid bite, and thought
I had hooked a huge nsn. on puiuug u
I had two trout ou one line, one strung on
the gut, the noon pa'"K "r"Y" ,
mouth and out his gill ana nousi u
into the side of thcother. Fishlso. 2, was
ten inches long, ana. puiuug
ugainst the stream, seemed a much larger
fish. Second: nnne uauiuB
call dead water on strean in ew Uamp-.-
. t., ir fUn toud stream, i
smre a w r & .
waited with fisherman's patience for an
houf or two, then I crept up to the stream,
and threw at a venture under an owhang-
arfiu'i SMS
w that he was puiunjc aiuc-,-
( " " i i -a tina nvnn
ened my tackle ana umueu m r-yy -entxi
3 . .. . . . j , kwkri him. bat
tuen looiiu . . . ,H :.
M I.M1 nut uwbw w
my throw baa cast u "- - -Snd
him, making. slip noose. On my
Tbomepwvg locksmith's shop. I
lI" ! !TriA .t'i sauare. and he
laid tum on uic wiu - - .
rtretched sixteen inches-not a Urge fish,
but a large one for that place.
Bon Spot" And Weather.
Those meteorologists who , bdjw Jjtaj
the weather depend. pon th e presen ce or
.beence of spots f J l10 British
comfort from WKio? to Mr.
Meteorological nf Options
Dallas, all 'Vncordbotween
sun spow anu . ig no
Isle, are wort"ftiid be ad
concord wbtrer,he sp
duce. fact, and flgurM between
pear to bear out .the fTMa the
very few dses are so mortal
the fear of death.
Giving- Her Geasus.
M hen the census taker rapped at the
door of a certain cottaire on Crawford street.
x-muii, me oiaer aay ana wonaered if the
woman would set the dog on him or douse
him with dish-vater. a irreat disannoint -
ment awaited him. She onoiui ih.. bmr
softlr. snuffrd the ir in ir h, .mu
of lightning-rods, and then threw it open
for him to enu-r.
"Madam, I sin makine a canvas of the
city, he began.
"Ah ! Sit down," she replied, and as
he began opening his book she continued:
"There are five of us in the family, and
we paid a 100 down on the place. My
husband's name is Peter, his age is forty
two, and he came from a mean family.
Ilia father was always having lawsuits
about dogs, and bis mother was the great
est goasipp in Elinira. Have you got that
downf
He grunted assent, and she continued:
"My name is Alvina Sarah, and I was
born in "
"I do not care to knew where you was
born, madam," he interrupted.
"Well, I care!" she exclaimed; 'St
makes a great deal of difference whether I
was born in Africa or Boston, and I want
it put down. As I was saying, I was born
in Boston in 183& Put down that I came
of a good family."
"Madam, you don't understand you
I understand that I came of a
good family? I'd like to know of a Bos
ton family which carried thuir noses higher
than the Bogerses ! Put down that my
father was in the Mexican war.
"You have three children, madam?"
' I haven't 'any such thine, sir! Put
down that my mother was killed by an ex
plosion in a quarry. Her aud father were
"How many children have you, mad
am!" "Have you got mothet down !"
"No, ruadaui. You see, I am taking
the census of the city."
"Well," said she giving him a dangerous
look, "i bad the typhoid fever at the age
of fifteen, and for weeks and weeks I hung
on me euge of the grave. 1 bore up as
yriu as I was able, and ."
"Five in the family how many chil
ren i" lie suddenly asked.
"Put down that I bore up!1 she com
manded. "And that one night when the
watchers were asleep I crept out of bed and
took a drink of ."
"This is foreign to the subject, madam.
How old are your children ?"
"Haven't yoa put down that I hung on
the edge of the grave ?"'
"No, madam."
"Aren't you going to?"
'No, c-.adam. You see, I am simply
taking the census of Detroit. I desire to
ascertain .
"You can't ascertain it here, sir!" she
snapped. "If my sickness, which cort
j over $2 00, isn't good enough to go in tbe
uooa men you aon I gel a Hue here:
! "Lt me ask you
for "y of our photo-
Bpu. " J" K au auywuere sou
put our pictures in that book we 11 make
it hot for you! Good-day, sir Good
day!" He stood on the step, sighing, and she
sailed through tbe door :
"My grandfather was also bitten to
death by an alligator, but I won't give you
any of the particulars! Y'cu want to
walk!"
He passed on, sorrowfully wondering if
the next woman's mother was blown oil a
bridge or carried down tue nver on a hay
slack. Harrta Carpet.
Mrs. Harris told hubby that she must
have a carpet for the front rot m, and she
thought a fifty dollar one would suit
Mr. Harris called in at the auction room
the next day. He didn't know a velvet
from a rag-carpet, but he bid as if he had
been in the business from childhood.
The auctioneer put up a beautiful in
grain, worth about five cents a mile, and
asked how much he heard. Mr. Harris bid
fifty cents a yard. . .
Mr. Beales, who was in another part of
Ue store, had been indulging very freely,
and be said 'Five."
Mr. Harris wanted the carpet and he bid
sixty. Jlr. Beiles said, "Five."
"Seventy!" shouted Mr. Harris.
"Five!" came from Kcales' corner.
Mr. Harris became angry, and deter
mined to have that carpet if he never hud
up a cent; so he yelled, "One dollar !''
Mr. Beales never moved an eyelash, but
he said. "Five!"
By the time that the two bad run the
carpet up to tour dollars a yard, both were
red in the face. Mr. Beales' "Five" came
J regularly, and all other bidders gave up in
despair. Hcaies gave toe people in us
neighborhood to understand that "that was
his carpet,''
Mr. Harris winked at his friends with a
wink that sai l, "If I don't get that carpet,
you can put me down as a horse thief."
Before the matinee was over, Harris had
bid eleven dollars, and Beales said "Five."
The carpet was finally knocked down to
Beales ; but when it was ascertained that
he only had five cents, the auctioneer's
trusty assistant showed Mr. Beales the hole
the carpenter had left in the front of the
building.
Sir. Harris finally got the carpet for nine
dollars a yard, and when be got it home,
having neglected to measure the room, he
found that it wouldn't fit the first floor of a
corn-enb.
Sirs. Harris informed H. confidentially
that he was a "darned fool," and that be
didn't know enough to go in the bouse
when it rained. She uses the carpet for a
table-cloth, and Hams buys bis carpets at
a regularly -organized store now.
Jobs Kulcer'a Hlstske.
Buiger is one of those young men wbo
are forever trying to say something comi
cal at another person's expense, and un
fortunately - never succeed. The other
day Bulger was riding down town in a
horse car, when a rustic looking gentle
man entered the car and took a seat di
rectly opposite from where he sat. As
there were several persons in the car, Bul
ger seemed to think that it would be an
excellent opportunity for him to get off
some of bis extraordinary wit. so, ad
dressing himself to tbe old gentleman op
posite, be Mid in a tone loud enough to De
heard all over the car:
'Hem how was everything in the
lunatic asylum when you came way I"
Bat no one seemed to appreciate the joke,
excepting one old woman, who really
didn't see anything to laugh at, but .grinned
just out of politeness. The old gentleman,
although taken by surprise, quickly recov
ered himself, and looking steadily at Bul
ger a moment, his face suddenly brighten
ed; extending his hand, be said, with a
mischievous twinkle in his eyes:
"Wall, I .wow! didn't know yer, but I
kinder thort I seed them clothe, before;
fit lost rate, don't they? How d'ye like
the shirt? Looks all right; wouldn't know
hat 'twas yours; needs washin".
though. It's too tarnation bad them boot.
are so small yerean't wear stocunfs wita
'em; but if I do say it myself, that's good
i lealncr in them boott, and I shouldn't .gin
I tuern to yer if they hadn't been so ever
' ' "
' look8 nateraLtoa I got that hat second
! haad from eI!ow far twenty cents;
i j"t good as a twenty-five center, a blind
man wouldn't know the difference. My
Ure! "T'"' to 'H wt'kers. aint ye, or is
I ltlt dirt on yer lipf Why don't ye wear
,bat TUer'n green neckerchief 1 gin yert
Looks a tremendous sight better'n that red
thing you've got on. What? ha! ha! Ge
Whitiker! that's a goad un. I'll be durned
if you hain't got that collar on t'other side
up." (Bulger wears stand-np collars.)
"IMka so queer I couldn t help laughing'.
Ain't yer kinder fraid you'll tumble down
some time and stick the pints inter yer
neck? How did yer get a chance to nde
in the hoss-car) Know the feller what
takes the money, dont yer!
"Sir!" screamed Bulger, just recovering
from his astonishment, and getting a chance
for the first time to put in a word. "Mr!
"Tut? tut!" continued tbe gentleman
from the country, "you needn t sav
word, I know just how it is; I should feel
the same way myself if anybody took me
frota the poor house and give me some
decent clothes. Yer needn't thank me;
I don't won't to tear. But I mnst get off
the hosa-ear; and if you feel the least mite
chilly without underclothes don't be
ashamed to come round and ask for them.
But don't forget to come to my house, and
not go near the lunatic asylum, for they
are mighty strict there, and I know they
wouldnl let you out again. all, so long;
take care of yourself.
So saying, he sprang liehtly from the
car and walked away, while Bulger, with
his face perfectly livid with rage, gasped:
"It s a he!" I never saw the old feol be
fore in my life!"
Bnt as the passengers still continued to
laugh, he left tbe car in disgust, and was
last seen, with his hat pulled over his eyes,
sneaking down a side stieeet Poor Bulger I
The way of the transgressor is not plea
sant. Be Wcatberwtss.
As everybody is interested in the weath
er, so each one should qualify himself or
herself to read tbe sky and to interpret the
meaning of the winds, sky and clouds.
An intensely blue and serene sky indi
cates heavy rains and severe storms in from
twelve to forty-eight hours. A gray, hazy
sky, indicates continous dry and generally
hot weather.
A southeast wind indicates the existence
of a low barometer, if not a storm centre,
in the northwest. The aspects of the sky
and clouds will tell whether it means mis
chief or not. An almost immediate cessa
tion of rain may be expected as soon as the
northwest seta in. It matters not what the
aspect of tbe sky is when the west wiud
sets in, fair weather will ensue after it and
continue for from three to four days. The
passage of the storm centre from the Gulf
and southeast ward of our locality is a
partial exception, only so far that it clears
off more tardily.
There are really but two primary kinds
of clouds namely first, those that float
at a great height above the earth's surfaca (
and, secondly, those that float low. Those
that float high say from six to nine miles
are of a fibrous gauzy structure; they
are hence called cimis that is. hair or
tuft clouds. The clouds that form in tbe
lower strata of the atmosphere say from
one to three miles above the earth are ir
regular in structure aud of a more or less
nebular form. They are culled the cumulus
that is the heap or pile of clouds.
While the cirrus remains nebular in
structure and indistinctly defined against
the sky, no rain need be expected. Under
tbe low barometer, however, tbey develop
by accretion, become smooth and compact
in structure and much enlarged in volume.
They now sink lower and become more
sliarply defined against the blue sky. U&iu
may now be expected, especially if they
unite with the cumulus, forming the nim
bus or rain cloud. If the cirrus, instead of
forming the nimbus, re-ascends, it dissi
pates, and no rain may be expected until
it lowers again, which generally is in
twenty -four hours.
"A Kianied old yaaker."
He was a peaceable looking man, with a
quiet-looking horse attached to an unat-
; tractive wagon. He wore a wide nmmed
hat and a shad-bell led coat as he drove
easily down the South Easton hill journey
ing from Bucks county to the land of
Northampton, l a. He was observed by a
fellow of the species "rough," whom much
loafing bad made impudent, and wbo lifted
us bis yawp:
"S-a-a-y I hat, where are you going with
that man I"
"Verily, I journey beyond tbe river,
friend 1" mildly responded the Quaker,
"and thither goeth my hat also."
"Hold up ! and take a fellow along can't
you ?" called out the man of wrath.
"Nay, friend ! my business and inclina
tion forbid it."
'I'll soon fix that ;" and the fool ran
forward and jumped on the steps.
"Verily, friend I if thee insist upon get
ting into my vehicle 1 will even help thee,"
and the man of peace reached out a right
hand as resistless as an oyster dredge. It
caught the youth around the throat worse
than a four year old dipthena, jerked him
into the wagon and slammed him down
among the straw, where he got tramped
upon by a pair of number thirteen cowhides
until he thought he had got caught in a
shower of spile drivers. Finally he got a
kick that lifted him clear over the side of
the wagon, had his head ran into the bank
by the roadside, where he dwindled down
in a heap like a gum shoe discouraged by a
street car, and murmured, as he rubbed his
ensanguined nose :
"Who n blazes d a ever thought the cast-
iron man'd gone around with steam up an'
disguised as a blamed old Quaker.
Couldn't Kalae It,
The annoyances to which a man without
money can be subjected are almost without
number, but it is seldom that two acquaint
ance, are in the same box at once. On
C Dgress street, Detroit, recently one man
said to another a. they met: -
"Ah! you miserable liar, I d break your
nose for a dollar!"
Tbe person thus addressed opened his
walffit, but it was empty. He wanted bis
nose broken ever so much, but he couldn't
raise the cash. Then he remarked :
"You gray-headed poltroon, I'd lick you
for fifty cents!'
Tbe gray-head felt in all his pockets,
but be found no half-dollar. He was cast
down over the condition of his finances,
but he managed to say :
"I'll give you a bos. licking for just five
cents!"
Tne other went down into all hi. pockets,
but no nickel could be discovered. Disap
pointment sat enthroned on his face as he
replied:
"Give me two cent, and 111 roll you in
the gutter 1"
The other couldn't raise it. Even when
they offered to lick each other for a cent
the money could not be produced, and both
went their way. realizing bow keen the
grip of poverty can be tightened.
Xla-ht at aa Alpine Haeatfes.
The Hospice of the Simplon. founded by
Napoleon I, and kept by the Brethren of
St. Augustine, is thus described by a cor
respondent. "We walked ud the high
atnne steps to the front ealrnce. Every
thing silent. A little way inside tbe door
was a large bell with chain attached. On
my giving this a pull, which made the long
passage-way echo again, a rustling of robes
was heard, and a tall, pleasant-faced monk
appeared and made us welcome in pure
French. He then directed us to a room
up one flight, marked "Salon," which con
tained a table, lounge, chain, and an up
right piano, with music lying upon it. As
soon as our bundles and bags were brought
up, we were invited to our chambers on
the same floor. They were good-sized
rooms, all stone, above and bcuealb, with
deep set doors and windows, and cuty little
white-canopied beds, each with its mound
of eider-down quilt. On entering one of
the rooms, the ladies started back at the
sight of a huge St. Bernard dog, apparent
ly stretched at full length on the flour be
fore the bed. It proved to be a skin mount
ed on a rug, with the bead preserved en
tire and natural as in life. In about half
an hour we were called to dine in tbe re
fectory, long, low room with prints and
paintings bung on tbe walls. A copy of
MuriL'o's "Youthful Virgin" was really
beautiful. The dishss, servec by a silent
domestic, were as follows: 1, soup; 3,
corned beef in small round cakes; 3, some,
unknown kind of roast meat; 4, veal cut
lets, dressed with sharp-tasting herbs; 3,
boiled rice; 6, cheese. The bread was coarse
and strong flavored. The milk was sweet
and nice. Besides our own partythere were
at the table the monk who had received ut,
and the only other guest, M. Wolf.a Swiss
botanist of note. After the meal was ended
our host arose, replaced his chair, and bent
reverently for a moment in sibnt prayer;
then led tbe way to the sitting room, where a
wood fire was soon blazing bnghtly while
we talked and laughed and listened to M.
Wolf, who played on the little upright piano
with great purity of touch and feeling. A
thunder storm was rolling through the
clouds just outside the windows, and hail
rattling against the panes. At nine
o'clock we all went to bed and were soon
sound asleep. As I awoke tbe next morn
ing, the first object my eye fell upon was a
little crucifix with its holy burden on the
wall just opposite my bed, and I remem
bered where 1 was. During breakfast the
young monk told us something of his life
on the mountains. He bad been eight
years at the St. Bernard Hospice, he said.
Had he ever helped to rescue travelers
from the snow with dogsf "Ah, oui sou-
vent." He had been obliged by broken
health to leave his post and had come to
this plao, where the storms and cold weie
not so fierce. In tbe winter, be said, time
passed very quickly and pleasantly at SL
Bernard. KUing at five, the monks, some
twenty or thirty in number, would assemble
to hear mass; then came prayers, meals,
meditation, study of the sciences, slight
intervals of recreation, with walks along
the sheltered side of the Paw; one duty
after another in quick succession, till night
came. 11 is eye was very bright and his
smile wonderfully sweet, as he told of his
: employments and his love for his chosen
path. A creaking of wheels and a jingling
of bells told us that our carriage was ready
so we found our way to the chapel, where
the box is placed for whatever sums travel
lers may choose to bestow, all entertainment
for the night being considered a matter of
charity, and bade good-bye to our kind
young host. He accompanied us as far as
the door, and then, wita a pleasant bow
aud smile, hurried away to his own work.
The Moor.
In person, the Moor is tall and straight,
of a commanding figure and possessing
great muscularity of form, with dark eyes,
white teeth, beard like jet and handsome
features, full of grave expression. His
geucral cast of countenance is ltonian; and
his lofty dignity of manner is such, that
when you see him enveloped in the folds
of his soow-wh ite hayk, which falls grace
fully over his shoulder, you might almost
imagine a senator of ancient liome stood
before you. How different in other re
srjects are the two characters ! If the char-
0f the Moor be examined, it will be
found to consist of a compound of every
thing that is worthless and contemptible,
and the few good qualities he possesses are
quite lost in the dark shade thrown around
them. Utterly destitute of faith, his vows
and promise, are made at the same time
with such a resemblance of sincerity as
rarely to fail of deceiving his victim; truth
is an utter stranger to his hps, and false
hood so familiar with him, that dependence
can rarely be placed on anything that he
says. In his disposition he is cruel, merci
less, overbearing and tyrannical, and bene
volence and humanity are stranger, to his
breast. Proud, arrogant and haughty as
his general demeanor is, particular to his
inferiors, he is fawning and cringing to
those above - him, and the veriest slave
imaginable when in contact with those
whose power he baa reason to be afraid of.
Suspicious, perhaps as much from the gen
eral uncertainly of life and property in
Morocco, as from his own natural disposi
tion, there is no tie of faith or friendship
which is not capable of being dissolved
when anything is likely to be obtained ; to
accomplish which he will descend to the
lowest flattery, and the most servile act. of
cunning wheedling. Liberality and gener
osity are unknown to him ; or if he dis
plays Uiese qualities, it is done from a cer
tainty that he shall be well repaid for the
exercise of them.
Trade In Cat-Tails.
It may not be known that trade in cat-o'-nine
tails, or cat-tails, or catkins, or
whatsoever they msy be rightly called,
is of some importance and magnitude.
Whoever discovered and made known the
fact that the proper place for the swamp
nurtured catkin wc. the parlor and draw
ing room has not left his name behind, but
certain it is that in the year 1879, and
more particularly in the year 1800, catkins
began to be included in tbe house-furnishing
of ornamental things. - At tbe present
tune the demand is large and increasing,
and a useless weed ha. become an article
of commerce. Tbe catkins ate used with
pampas grass, aea oat. and native grasses
to make up the content, of vase, which
ornament mantels and room corners. This
has become the rage, as it i. called, and
many a room is undergoing tbe procees of
catkin and grass adornement. For tho re
ceptioa of these grasses large and email
vase, are used, according to location, and
drain pipe ornamented by home handiwork
are used for the same purpose as well a. for
umbrella stands. The catkin, with the
beautiful pampas grass add a great deal to
to attractiveness of any room, and partic
ularly of that one with complimentary sua
soundings. The time was when the beau
ties of natural grasses were concealed un
der a coating of alum, or some other glis
tening substance. From this unsel we are
gradually turning to a more correct taste,
even in such small matter as catkins. One
firm in Frorid snce has laid In a Mock of
about three thousand catkins.
lrserlas Autos Leaves.
'Leaves have their time to fall' is as cer
tain as any of nature's marvels, and they
do it much more gracefully in the mellow
ing sunshine, ripening day by day, every
day showing new tints and beauties, until
they fall, their mission accomplished. To
preserve their coloring, they should be
gathered from the trees before frosts (get
ting all tbe shades and tints possible, of
course), singly, aud in sprays suitable for
pressing, and at once plaeed between the
leaves (not too near together) of books and
newspapers, and several pound' weight
hud upon them. They should be kept,
while 'pressing, in a cool place, and as
often ) as every other day (every day is
better during the first week) changed into
new books. Ibis is important, because
the paper absorbs the dampness from tbe
leaves, and they soon become discolored if
allowed to remain. They sboHld be kept
in press until thoroughly dry between two
and three weeks; otherwise they shrivel, j
They are then ready for a coat of oil or j
varnish. I find a mixture of three ounces I
of spirits of turpentine, two ounces of boil
ed linseed oil, and half an ounce of white
varnish preferaulc to either alone. Get
perfectly smooth board, large enouzh to lay
a spray upon, with no reaching of the
leaves beyond the outer edges, or in an un
lucky moment comes the wail, 'How could
I be so careless as to break off the very
loveliest leaf!' I have done it more than
once, and have thereby learned that autumn
leaves are brittle things and require tender
handling. Take a piece of soft cloth to
apply the dressing. A brush does not do
it soevenly.andthere must be no streaks left.
They are a blenihh when dry.
After the application, the leaves must
be laid carefully on boards or papers (not
overlapping each other) until dry, and then
disposed of as taste suggests, avoiding as
much as possible a stiff, unnatural arrange
ment. They charm me most in sprays
aud groups on curtains and walls with or
without ferns; but they can be arranged
very artistically on the panels of doors, us
ing starch for holding them in place. I have
seen them used with evergreens in winter
decorations with great effect. The stem
can be broken off, and a fine wire . attached
lu its place, which makes them a little more
yielding to handle. There is beauty fur
some in a wreath, so called, of autumn
leaves; but I have always failed to see it,
more especially if under glass. Tbey have
such a helpless, imprisoned look the taauty
all flattened out them. ot long since 1
read the maledictions of an individual on a
newspaper. He had read in it: 'To pre
serve autumn leaves,put a little white wax
on the surface and pass a warm iron over
them. He says be sat up till after midnight
ruining a bushel of the loveliest leaves he
ever saw. 'It left them the color of an old felt
hat.' 1 have had some experience in the
ironing process, and can truthfully say it
spoils both leaves and temper. The
leaves of sumach and the Virginia
creeper or five fingered ivy will retain
their beauty for a time if pressed, and can
be used fur advantage with other leaves;
but after drying tbey have not much sub
stance, and soon the grace of tbe lashion
of them pcrisheth,' as do so many other
beautiful things."
he African Wood.
The most formidable of all animals in the
woods of Africa is the famous Troglodytes
Gorilla, called in the language of the Gabun,
Njcna. It belongs to the ourang-outang or
chimpanzee family, but is larger and more
powerful than any other known species.
It is almost impossible to give a correct
idea, either of the hideousnets of its looks,
or the amazing muscular power it possesses.
Its intensely black face not only reveals
features greatly exaggerated, but the whole
counienance is but one expression of sav
age ferocity. Large eyeballs, a cross of
long hair, which fells over the forehead
when it is angry, a mouth of immense ca
pacity, revealing a row of terrible teeth.
and large protruding ears, make it one of
the most frightful animals in the world.
It is not surprising that the native, are
afraid to encounter them even when vmed.
The skeleton of one, in possession of the
Natural History Society of Boston, is sup
posed to be five feet and a half high, and
with its nesb, thick skin and the long shag
gy hair with which it is covered, must have
been nearly four feet across the shoulders.
The natives say it is ferocious, and invari
ably give, battle when it meets a single
person. It is said they will wrest a musket
from the band, of a man and crush tbe
barrel between their jaws, and there is
nothinsr, judging from the muscle, of the
jaws, or the size of their teeth, that renders
such a tiling impiohabie. The common
African chimpanzee abounds in all part, of
Western Africa. Those of Southern Guinea
are not so large as those higher up the
coast. It is the nearest approximation to
the human species of any of the moukey
family. It is easily domesticated, is mild
and sociable in disposition, and gives un
J,",,,
mistakable evidence of strong personal ex
its character and habits are so
well known that we do not feel it impor
tant to give a more extended account.
Carloos End to a tforae Race.
Hecently a cattle dealer and a farmer
who prided themselves on the superiority
of their respective horses,laid a bet of JlM
each on who would reach a certain inn in
Linlithgow, driving from Edinburgh. The
money was duly staked with tbe innkeeper.
the day set, and the conditions wntten out
viz., first at goal, in full harness, to re
ceive X 100. During the interval one of the
gentleman began to see he wits likely to
lose, aud forjied a plan to circumvent his
friend,wbich be managed in the fol
lowing way: Un starting ne allowed him
self to get rather behindhand on coming up
to Haymarket Station turned quietly in.
where a special engine and horse box stood
waiting, by means of which, horse,gig and
man were soon carried to Linlithgow. 1 he
other gentleman kept driving on, although
he was supnsed, on looking round now
again and agaiu, to see nothing of bis op
ponent. But siiprise gave way to rage
when be arrived at the Inn twenty minutes
late, and was told that tbe money had been
claimed by his friend; the other now wish
ed to make a joke of the whole affair, and
offered back the 50;but he who had driven
tbe road refused any compromise, and de
clare, that he will take the case to law.
"Can-t Hub it oat,"
"Don't write there," said a father to his
son, who was writing with a diamond on
the window.
"Whynoti"
"Because you can't rub it out"
Did it ever occur to you, my child, that
you are daily writing that which you cant
rub out! l ou made a cruel speech to your
mother the other day. It wrote itself on
ber loving heart, and gave her great pain.
it is there now, and it hurt, her every
time she thinks of it. You can't rub it
out.
You wished a wicked thought one day
in the car of your playmate. It wrote it
self on his mind, and led him to do a wick
ed act. It is there now: you can't rub it
out.
Ail your thoughts, all your words, all
vour act. are written in the book of God.
Be careful. The reeord is very lasting.
You ean't rub It out. -
A Mjatewtoa PIS,
Nearly fourteen mites on almost a direct
line southeast from Bowling Green, Ky.
there is a singular and mysterious pit
the ground. It is situated on a high bluff,
in a wild, flinty locality, tangled with vines,
brambles, briers, bushes, trees and shrub
bery, on tbe waters of Drake a Creek, be
low tbe mouth of Trammel The aperture
is a dark, gaping hole, cleft through the
stony crags as though the bluff had at some
time cracked and split. The opening
some ten feet long and four feet wide at
the widest part, its rocking yawning lips
oeiug epreaa something ia tbe shape of
horse-collar, the apex, so to speak, point
ing westward. By some of the people in
that region It is known as "Hell Hole,
while others call it "Indian Pit.". One
remarkable feature of tbe abyss is that there
issues from its deep depths, ceaseless as the
rounds of the seasons, a volume of misty
vapor, which, especially on crisp, frosty
mornings, can be seen ascending above the
tree tops, and floating off on the air, whit
ened with the rays of the rising suu. Flint.
boulder-shaped stones, and others worn by
ine inclion of time to perfect roundness,
are scattered profusely all about the place,
as thotah thrown highly by some unknown
npheaval and showered back like rattling
hailstones of all sixes and dimensions, lu
Jie fall and whiter this fog volume is
warmer than the cutting blasts that sweep
along the deep gorge. In summer the mist
is cooler and not so dense. The pit widens
from tbe top in its downward course, and
woe be to aay living thing oace swallowed
through its dark mouth. Throw a boulder
or stone into it, aud not the faintest echo
ever reaches the ear as to whither it went
Some seasons since, a party of persons as
sembled at the pit, determined to fathom
its hidden bottom. They were provided
with a strong cord over six hundred feet
long, to which was attached a sulyard
weight, lbey dropped the weight into
the hole and paid out the line. Down,
down, and down went the weight till not a
foot of cord was left, while not a sound
came to tell the tale oi its subterranean
passage. No bottom was reached and the
weight was withdrawn damp and unsoiled
as though it touched-nothing but mist and
darkness in its soundings.
A Tailor's Hi under.
I did a nice clever trick when I first set
up tor myself, which you shall hear. That
large bouse just opposite to mine is Lord
M 's town residence. I made a fish
ing-suit for one of the young honorable,
and was ordered to rixjvlt, and eel Daid.
The hall-porter who let me in told me to
walk up stairs. I met ou the landing
little old woman, in a stuff gown aud white
apron, with a basketful of keys on her
arm. I made sure she wss the housekeep
er, and so told her my business.
"Step into this room, young man," she
said, "and I will pay you."
My bill was not more than fifty shil
lings; and, as soon as i received the
money, 1 put half a sovereign into her
hand.
"1 in very sorry, ma'am," said L "that
I cannot afford more; but, if you would
only get his lordship to give me the order
for the Christmas liveries, I'd do the hanii-
sonie thing by you."
"And pray what would tliat be?" aaked
she, looking at me with her little shining
black eyes.
"Nothing less than a new silk gown.
that 1 can pr.imise," I replied. "1 hope
you will speak to his lordship about this
utile matter, aud lose no time."
"I certainly will do ao," said she; and
you shall be informed with what effect this
very day.
"Bring over the new. vourself, old gal,
if you can," I rejoined ; '"and l'U find you
a drop of the real stuff out of a bottle I
keep in tbe shop."
1 left the house, feeling quite sure that
l nau secured the chance of a good order.
About five minutes after I ot back to my
shop, in came the butler.
"Mr. Dean," said he, "his lordship has
given stnet orders that on no aecouut are
you to be admitted into the bouse again,
because of your impertinence to my
lady,"
"Your lady!" said I. "Why, I never
set eyes on her."
"1 heard her tell his lordship that you
called her uid gai.'
"Eh! what!'' I articulated, wideawake
in a moment.
"Aud told her, that, if she'd come over
to your shop, you'd treat her t a drp of
something short."
"What!" said L "was it Lady M
that I was stieaking to? By George! I
took her for the housekeeper."
Well, of course 1 lost the custom of
Lord M . But what vexed me most,
was, that I also lost tbe half-sovereign.
She Chanced Her Mind.
A big, good-natured dictor was desper
ately in love with, and had been twice re
fused by a fair haired little woman. But in
stead of the disappointment curing his love
it only made the passion more intense. Af
ter the last refusal he told her that if ever
she changed her mind to let him know, as
his love for her was unchangeable, and he
would be proud to be her husband. Some
months later he was driving home from
seeing a patient, when he saw his lady love
riding in his direction. Supposing she
would merely bow and pass on, as she had
cften done before, he did not pull up his
horse. But the moment Miss Dixon came
up to him she reined in her horse, stopped,
and called out :
"Won't you stop, Mr. Hill?"
He raised his hat and replied :
"I shall be happy to do so," then waited
for her to speak.
She was gazing at the ground aud blush
ing deeply, but quickly looking up, she
tilled the Doctor's honest heart, by say
ing: "Dr. Hill, I have been closely watching
you lately, and seeing nothing but goodness
and noble mindedness in your character,
and believing you will make an excellent
husband, I am willing to marry you."
A Boldlera Proposal.
"A young officer was dancing in a set of
"Lancers" in a crowded drawing-room
with an extreme pretty girl, to whom he
made himself most agreeable. After the
dance was over he took her to a chair, and.
sealing himself beside her, began to mourn
his celibacy.
'It is exceedingly easy to remedy that."
said she.
"1 don't think so at all, in fact, I do not
know a girl who would marry me."
She laughed and replied:
"Just go and ask some one here to-night,
and I venture to say you will be accepted
by the first."
"Ah ! 1 am not so sure of that. But
will you take me! "
"With pleasure."
And a few month, later they were mar-
riea.
"What must I do,"sked a mean and
conceited man of a friend who knew
him well, "to get a ploture of the one
1 tore most?" "bit for your own do r
tnlt," was the reply.
A PpanUli Traced.
Near M:estraz,7 in Valencia, Spain,
dwells or rather dwelt, a family by the
name of Cel. The heads of the family
were Joachim Bel. and bis wife, aged
about sixty, and with them lived their
three sons, two grandsons and a house ser
vant a man. The people of the il:es
Irazgo are a pious folk, and at four in the
morning on a recent Sunday, the whole
family set out to attend early mass at Chert
in the good, old-fashioned way, Joachim
Bel riding on one horse with Lis wife, two
of his sons. Baptist and Joachim, following
him. with the two little grandsons nicely
packed in a hamper and swung at the side
of Baptist's horse, and the servant, Andrew
Nos, trotting meekly in the rear on a mule.
1 be third sjn was left at home to keep
the house. As the little troop were jogging
quietly on they were suddenly baited in a
sharp turn in the mountain road by a
hoarse voice thuudenng out the familiar
and formiilable cry of all Spanish robbers
on the hishwav, "hocm u lurra
("Down in the dust!") They all looked
up in consternation, and saw among the
bushes above the road the uncanny face of
distant kinsman of the family, one
Gabriel Bel y Belt ran, a notorious scoun
drel, about thirty ye:irs old. kuown in the
countryside as "EI Pincho," or"the thorn
in the side, who had recently served out
a term in the prison of Tarragona and paid
a heavy fine lor an assult with intent to
kill, committed on one of the vounirer Bcls.
The feliow was armed with a revolver
and a ila'gLr, and the unhappy farmers.
beiug entirely defenceless, were forced to
bait and dismount. EI Pincho came down
towards them, calling out that he meant to
kill them all. With a shot he brought the
oid man to the ground, and rushing upon
tbe others struck down the wife and ser
vant in rapid succession with his long,
sharp dagger. The two sons fled for thir
lives, pursued by the murderer. One of
them fell, struck down by a pistol shot;
tbe other, a lad of seventeen, succeeded in
reaching his home and routing bis .brother
who had been left there.
Tbe two, snaichins; up the onlv weapon.
at hand, a shepherd's hook and a razor,
rushed out to meet the assassin, whom
they almost immediately encountered and
with whom thev had a desperate contest.
Tbe youngest Bel was shot, though not
fatally, but his brother, having succeeded
in striking down El Piucho with the shep
herd's hook, with a second blow dispatched
him as he was trying to rise. The two
brothers parsed on to the scene of the at
tack, where, in the sad grey light of the
morning, a hideous spectacle awaited them.
The elder Bel was stone dead. He had
fallen forward on tis hands and knees.
and the murderer had struck him twice
wita his dagger after shooting him.
lueir mother was lvin desperately
wounded at a short distance from her hus
band. The bodies of the elder son and the
servant had been rolled by the assaxsin
down tbe ravine at . the roadside. The
wind had risen and was howling dismally
through the forests. As sojn as tue story
could be conveyed to tlie authorities, a
picket of the CuarUia Civil, the etlicient
rural police of Spaiu went out. The elder
Sun and the servant were found, still alive,
and the latter, it is thought may recover.
he two little grandchildren were car
ried a long way off by the frightened
horse, but were eventually recovered safe
and sound. Of course the whole neighbor
hood is in great commotion; but some con
solation stems to be fouad in the fact that
the shepherd's staff of young Bel should
have made it unnecessary to pat the cum
brous machinery of tpan"i3h justice in
motion for the thauseii.ent of the mur
derer.
I'ncle Dan .Mrrlrv' - innlhllator,'
One morning as L'an McCauley the actcr.
was about to get ou board the train at Vir
ginia City, Nev., a queer looking man
stepped up to him and asked for a few
minutes conversation which was pleasantly
granted by 3Ir, McCauley, who has less
airs about him with strangers than any
actor in the profession.
"1 d like to see that annihilator that you
have that gun that shoves out like a tele
scope." "Certainly, sir, I have it in my valise,
frequently comes handy when stransrers
fool with me.
The actor went into the train, followed
by
the stronger, and soon produced bis
'annihilator,'' which the other grasped
eagerly and besan to work, bis eyes gleaut-
Willi delight.
"That's a daisy, by Jove it is! What's
s range:
"I never really kaew how far it would
shoot. It carries a pound of powder to a
pint of shot and spreads ont in all direc
tions. "'
"I've got a little racket myself!" said
the stranger, pulling out an immense six
shooter from behind. "That's the boy
that was the terror of Pi.x-he for years.'
"Ah! Are you the celebrated Vat Hol
land, poet, aud fighter of Pioche?"
"I am pretty well recognized in the
sage-brush country by that name. When
1 haul tins machinery it clears the street
quicker than a squad of New York police
could do it. I'd like to buy that anni
hilator of yours, for a sort of companion
piece, as it were, to mine something Ut
b dunce me on the other side."
"To tell you the truth Mr. Holland." re
plied McCauley, laughing, 'this affair of
mine is only a sham. It doesn't shoot at
all Just meant for the stage you know."
"lioly Moses! i ou don't mean to say
that you can't kill a man with itC
".exactly."
"Good-bye, I've been goin to tes you
night after night, supposin" this weapon
was the real cheese, and I'm sold. I used
to dream about it at night, and now to find
out it's a fraud. It's too terrible!"
Here Pat sat down ou a car step and
wept like a child.
A Woman. Fisht Wita a Snake,
Not long ago Mrs. ICacbel Dodcrick. wife
of Frederick IXxlerick, a wagon-maker of
Cairo, Green county. N. Y., was passing
through a field of blackberry hashes, when
she heard a quL-er noise, slie stoppeJ and
listened, and as it ceased, she again went
upon her war. After proceeding a few
steps further she heard the noise again,
wmcn sue now recognized as the whistle
of a species of blat-ksnake known as the
racer. She immediately started to run,
bnt before she bad gone a dozen steps the
snake caught up with her and began to
entwine bis coils about ber body. She had
a small tin pail in her baud at the time, and
while screamiug for help began to fight
the snake with the pail, but it seemed that
eery stroke she made at the snake's head
he would dodge and draw his folds about
her body tigh er. She continued to fight
and scream this way for narly a quarter
of an hour before she got any response, but
finally heard her husband', answering call.
Just then the snake got a coil aroond ber
neck and throat and she faiuted. Her
husband crushed the snake's head with his
boot heel, and then released his wife and
earned her to the house where she revived.
She carried a blue mark about her throat
for some thre where the snake had choked
her. '1 be snake was eleven feet in length
and as large around as a man's wrist
13
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