r
jiiiifi wiil fe nil
1
WW
B F. sCHWEIER.
TEE 00I8TIT U I'iOI THE TTHOI AID THE EXFOBOEKEIT OF THE LAVS.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXXV
MIFFLINTOWN. JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., WEDNESDAY, J ULY 20, 1881.
NO. 28.
V-'i
l-A
PAKTINW.
,nx m l western chamber.
wveriet of anitior.
uJ clM" ,tK)ve the drow.jr daj ;
UrA-r u wi Bhme thtf uue to-morrow,
'Tiie to-iuorrow night.
,k.n-tilie radiance dimmer.
v'"' Tfcaut star omes. shining tremulously,
n, una Ji4(jUlt Chouse glimmer
jj m! ' ...u d ten of the e ;
At "r ' KlU nug me trembling .warilght
T ! tuei'a-whiteitaveiiuiuieaiiore,
"ia.'.ic.u.eihef flight
A! iiSSwp: bat "",u come no more"
, .......rwSrK speetres of parting
Ewr . ...r,h their eirJ hands, saddci
ui:i our
Tj even here tut tears are starting.
r':'Jr ua.is the empty chair upon the hearth ;
7 .-. t,mrht:r sanies, though hearts are bro-
:jl ilL,IT
'rU :. hf r children to her breast,
Tffndir tuaes in her mute mound all token
.L heart-throb ot a Mrt unrest.
Btlfct.lNU HI HE-tKT.
.. .i.,wnniui hasn't any business to
A tin ft.-- . ,
i,., single man
said Mrs. Brushby.
i ir: .
Certainly
lii it, acquiesce.! .uiss
Uut I dare ".v
.. ,-L.J the l'luuir
, engaged," slyly
widow, with a
slewed to .lilaite and contract, like those
nit i
Elia.lle-aued
'No,
he's not. said Jluts I oxe. At
' . i l.:... ..11 nulmiel Conlev
1,-ast I neara " " - i --j
that lie -- entirely fancy free."
't.EniBi.hrsaul Mn. Brushby. "Then
there's no reason why he shouldn't
jry and -le here at Eiinar."
Eimar, iudetil !" said Miss Foxe,
,'jolia.l at'ivpt.-d her own old maiden-
Tl..
h J as a tort'gone cuuciumuu.
tl.Wv here for him to marry only fac
U,tr girb, and Colonel Copley's six
.UkU1- tlie y0111111 f '"lwni is
t;.ree and twenty, to select from.
Tiie green eyes scintillated shaqly.
-Why shouldn't he marry either yon
rnf, feli.ia Foxe?" asked Mrs Brush-
' Miss Foxe pave a sort of gasp, as if
At hii attempted to swallow some nior
t,.; t.w larse for her.
Why, he ain't 30 !" said she.
Wither urn I." aid Mrs. Brushby.
"No, Cornelia Brushby, there ain't no
- .rt of ue eoming that sort of game over
" aajd Mis Foxe, fairly aroused at
l,t tuto autiuouism. "You were eight
ai.J tweiitv when you married Brushby,
and he's Wu dead and buried these ten
good years."
Urs. Brunby laughed.
"FekVia." said she, "you re worse
fUr, .-n old familv record. Don't yon
e them's people older than their years,
on ..iiv vouu'er ! I'm one of the
latter; and I tlou't see why I can't marry
' Tux! Seliryu, if I once make up my Uiind
to do so."
So Mrs. Bnishbv took up the brown
Turn that she had Wn buying at Felicia
Foie thread and needle store, and went
Li'tne.
H-r ni.-ce, stall, pale girl, with yellow
hxir like braids of dead gold, a transpa
rent nn!e skin and sad. hazel eves, was
ietting the table.
'How slow you are, Clara !" said Mrs.
Brah'oy, snappishly. "I supposed, of
Course, tea would lie all ready by the
time I came back."
'I'm sorry for the delav, aunt," said
Ciara, timidly, "but I was detained at
the factory."
"There, that will do. I don't see why
yoti need W Ringing the factory in my
face xll the time. Oh, it's bad enough
to have1 a niece obliged to drudge for
her living w ithout hearing of it forty
tiini-s a day."
The deepest acarlet glow mounted in
to Clara Cone's checks.
"I could not pay my lioard, aunt,"
aaid Ae, "if I did not earn the money
in the factory. But if the subject is
disagreeable to you I will endeavor to
avoid it."
It was now six months since Clara
Co!e had arrived, a homeless orphan,
with iiil her worldly belongings packed
in a shabby little traveling bag, at Mrs.
Ermhby's door.
"Aunt," she said, trying to repress
tlie rising sob in her throat, "will you
give me a home? I am your sister's
orphan daughter."
Mrs. Brushby had received her as
or.liully as a fish might have done.
"I upnse youll have to stay," said
Mrv Brushby. But I didn't die and
leave a Bwarm of orphans for my sister
to take care of. Oh, yes, you can stay,
ami perharw I can find you a situation
a dressmaker's apprentice or in a shop.
Because, of course, one cannot expect
me to keep a rreat girl like you for no
thing. "
Upon i.-h Clara bestirred herself
actively and halbeen thankful to obtain
a phk'e in the pin factory, in the glen
b low tlie village, where half a hundred
oth r pale-faced operatives worked for a
scanty livelihood, and Mrs. Brushby
charged her a high price for board, and
got a servant-maid's work out of her
More and after hours into the bargain.
'"I should like to go churk, aunt,
Clar.i had ventured to say one Sunday
luorniiig when flie maples in the glen
were id) blazing in their antrunn colors.
"That's just like you selfishness Clara
Cone:" aaid MYs. Brushby, acidly.
"And let rne stav at home, for, of oonrse,
one of us must stay at home, to see that
we are not robled bv tramp, and cook
tlie dinner."
"But couldn't I go in the evening.
unt'
'Certajaly not !" said Mrs.Br ushby.
"I belonn k1 the 'Rebecca band, which
always meets O the chapel on Sunday
evenings, and DeaOon Halstead calls for
me in his box wago- I 7on feel
piously inclined, you can red your l?nJ-
er book at home."
And so Clara found herself graduAU?
degoueratlng Into th merest household
dnidgB. She went nowhere end saw
nobody.
"Prtrtty 1" Mrs. Brushby would aeorn
ully ramark whan a igVbdr hanoad
to hazard an opinion ooucerning her
niece.
"Nonsense ! Just tuctlT like a oolor-
less celery sprout, and never a word to
bay for herself !"
And if by chance Clara was invited to
join in any of the neighborhood festivi-
ties, Mrs. Brushby made haste to de
cline for her.
Clara never goes out." she aaid.
"She has no taste for such things, poor
.!..
dear.'
Uutil iK-oplo begau to believe that
Clara Cone was either a recluse or an
idiot
The pale factory girl had just taken
the teapot off the stove, uinm this espe
cial evening, when Mrs. Brushby uttered
an exclamation of surprine.
Hlusk the things into the closet,
quick, Clara," said she. 'Tut the bread
liehind the family Bible. Don't leave
that bottle of pickles on the mantle, Mr.
Selwyn is coming."
A minute and a half later Mrs. Brush
by, in her bet black silk apron, greeted
the clergyman with her sweetest smile.
"My visit is intended to your niece.
Miss Cone, as well as to yourself," said
Mr. Selwyn, after the topic of the wea
ther had been duly discussed.
"O, Clara," said Mrs. Brushby, siin-
jienng "Clara wishes to be excused.
Clara sees no company. I really regret
the dear girl's eccentricity, but "
And she rolled her green eyes heaven
ward, with a deprecating motion of the
hands.
"She never comes to church," said Mr.
Selwyn, gravely.
"AU-li-li .' groaned Mrs. Brushby,
"her heart is like the nether millstone.
If you knew, dear Mr. Selwyn, how I
have striven with her !"
Mr. Selwyn looked cornered.
"I am beginning a series of sermons
to young people next Sunday evening.
Pray use your endeavors to induce this
young girl to attend."
And Mrs. Brushby promised that she
would, and the young clergyman took
his leave.
"You must !" said Mrs. Brushby.
"Please, aunt, don't ask me !" said
Clara, with tears in the limpid eyes.
"'U'hat a goose you are !" said Mrs.
Brushby. "As if it made any earthly
difference ! And I must have the dress
to wear to church to-morrow evening.
Mr. Selwyn is to preach the first of a
series of sermons to young people, and
I'm specially interested in "em."
"But I never sewed on Sunday in my
life."
"The dressmaker has disappointed
me, and I must have the dress. A few
seams more or less, what do they matter?
Ill risk your soul ! And nolody need
ever know. Only think, Clara Cone,
what I have done for you."
"On, aunt, I can't !" cried Clara, in a
choked voice. It wouldn't be right"
"And who sat you up as a judge of
right and wrong, I'd like to know?"
almost screamed Mrs. Brushby. "Xow
take your choice ; either finish up this
dress for me, or leave the house,"
Clara was silent for a moment Then
she spoke.
"I will leave the house," she said.
"And I fully approve of your decision,"
said Mr. Selwyn 's voice, as he stepped
in from the open-doored portico, where
his knock had been drowned by tlie
high accents of Mrs- Brushby. "Leave
the house. Miss Cone, and I w ill see
that a refuge is provided for you at the
home of Miss Foxe."
Mrs. Brushby stood startled and dis
mayed. Clara Cone, pole and silent
laid her hand on the minister's arm and
left 'the room and the house.
Honest Miss Foxe was amazed when
Clara Cone took refuge with her.
"Well," she declared. "I always
knew that Cornelia Brushby was a
regular grinder, but I did suppose she
had some Christain decency about her.
Y'es, child, you are welcome to my spare
room, and I sha'n't charge you any
board. I dare say you will lend a hand
now and then, when I'm busy; and your
company will be a deal of comfort to
me."
But Miss Foxe didn't have that "com
fort" long. Mr. Selwyn had become
interested in the pale, claar-eyed factory
girl, and, before the wild roses uios-
somed along the verge ot tlie woous, me
parsonage had a mistress, and Mr. Sel
wyn no longer came under the head of
"unmarried clergymen."
Mrs. Brushbv's tender aspirations
were blighted in the bud; but a bald-
headed old bachelor bought tne laewny
just alxut that time, and Mrs. Brushby
transferred her attentions to tne new
comerand, with many noils and winks,
she ives the general public to under
stand that Mr. Selwyn is her rejected
lover.
"You see." said Mrs. Brushby, with
her green eyes of confiding anlesnness
uplif ted, "I never could reconcile mj seu
to the trials of a miuister'a wife."
Pon In TlctH
"Kinety day fur noUanV exclaimed
Orrin C. Brown, as they took him out of
the workhouse, and re-arrested him on
another old charge. "I :nt guilty, an I
wan't guilty afore. But ye see its like
this: I'm only an ole widower anyhow,
an' I live alone, an' I can't prove nothing
even if they charge me with murder! Jes
think of the chance a man has when bet
cot a wife to swear to everything he takes
it into his head to lie about? But there a.n t
no law for the protection of single iolkal
What ware you in fort" asked the dep
uty sheriff, as he tested the iron bracelet,
to make sure that Orrin a Brown would
remain wlia mm long enough to nw;
-Fur stealin' a little fire-wood that I
never took-an'convictedjca became Im
a widower."
'And do you know what they want you
for now down In Victor!"
"Yes, I a'pose so; five dollars worth ot
en-nataiks were missin' about the same
timsM the fire-wood an' ine-n now I
hant't got ftO wife to prove that I want
thereT
A .V of g.14 hiVL. fl fiffti-
A Highland Tabla U'Hoto.
I had been improving my mind lately.
reading books of travel "A ride in Petti
coataudSlipiiers," "A Trip to Manitoba,"
"A Daring Voyage Across the Atlantic,'
"Journeys in Canoea Down Foreign Ri
vers" every description of adventure,
toil and travel Fired with ambition.
longed to travel. However, I am only
a little widow, fragile in appearance.
and not too oourageous in reality (in
fact, my sisters laughed excessively at
the mere idea of my traveling ; so I
thought petticoats and slippers must be
an uncomfortable way of seeing savage
countries, and to which I really did not
feel -quite equal, and I preferred a trip
to Scotland. It sounds easy, but then
it is very romantic ; and there is always
the chance of the coach upsetting
(which, by-the-by, one did the other
day, and several people were hurt), or
the steamer blowing up, or oneself being
blown off a precipice, to add zest and
danger to the undertaking. I traveled
alone with a maid maids are trouble
some creatures, still it is a great thing
when one is tired to have one's dressing-
gown laid out, and one's muddy boots
pulled off ; so I had to endure her. Of
course she had no soul ; she never ad
mired the sunsets, but leant back
munching apples ; she could not descry
charm in hunting np butterflies and
killing them with chloroform it cer
tainly always gave me a shudder to per
form this office ; it was so terribly like
vivisection ; nor did she care a bit for
all the sweet little wild flowers I picked
as we went along, and which, indeed,
did fade dreadfully before we reached
our destination. I even caught her
throwing some exceptionally decayed
ones out of the railway carriage window,
with the exclamation, "My goodness.
what a lot of muck !" The railway
traveling was dull enough, I allow
tribes of tourists getting in and out at
every station, and looking hot, angry or
liscontented; slamming down their bas
kets and bundles of weeds and damp
ferns tied up in handkerchiefs uion our
wincing feet, or grumbling lecause we
did not immediately make room for a fat
papa, mamma, and daughters lieside us
why should we? thev were no ac
quaintances of ours or very tall, very
unburut, very ruddy young men with
alpen-stocks, which they planted firmly
in front of them at the imminent risk of
putting out our eyes. All these little
events were very ordinary, and, I must
say, disagreeable. Brusher, my maid,
thought so too, I could see. But, then.
when we fairly reached the Highland
scenery, where fairy-like silver streams
tumbled down tlie sides of steep rocks
that looked as if made for the purpose;
where birch firs and mountain ashes
clung lovingly to crested hills, and deep
purple tips reached away up through a
dim curling mist into the clear blue sky,
while real burns or torrents or whatever
else is the proper name for them rum
bled and dashed along ia happy showers
of milk-white spray far below us I did
feel that traveling was very nice.
Then, too, I began my first experience
on a table tfhote. When we reached the
little country inn, half smothered in
larch and ash trees, staring right up a
beautiful valley that aceined to fade
away into a kind of regiment of dark
bine hills, each popping up to look over
the other's head; of course, I asked for
a sitting room. "Ye can have one, mem;
but there's just the common room and
the coffee room, where ye'll tak' yer
meals." I had never taken meals before,
like the servants; I had always dined;
however, there was no help for it; and
now at last I felt I was really exploring,
really roughing it Mine was a stuffy
little bedroom, with red moreen curtains
and the chambermaid and waiter wash
ing the tea things and quarreling and
making it up just outside my door; so I
was not s..ny vhi-u the Iiell rang, or ra
ther tolled (for it Bounded just like a
church bell) for dinner. I walked down
the stairs with my usual dignity no
thing gives so much effect to a small
woman as dignity and perceived a
good-looking young lady, with clouds of
fuzzy hair and a jersey-body, just in
front of me. "IH follow her," I thought;
and so I did into the servant's dining
room, w here a waiter, running after me,
explained that I was wrong and brought
me triumphantly into the dining hall.
The latter had an imposing effect, pan
eled ceiling, sides and doors of polished
pine, a quantity of flaring mineral oil
lamps on the table, a few artificial flow
ers, and round tbout fifty people all
eating soup. I took my place, while my
heart sank and my appetite faded away.
This was indeed "taking" meals, not
dining. "Oxtail on giblet?" a hoarse
voice murmured at my elbow ; and be
fore I even knew that I had answered, a
smoking bowl of soup stood in front of
me, into which I alisently plunged my
electro-plated spoon. How I wished
now I had brought Brusher ! But then
I reflected maids must never be taken
out of their proper sphere; and if she
had dined with me then, she might ex
pect to do so in the future at home.
Indeed, a widow is so lonely sue wouiu
gladly even dine with her maid.
Presently, as nobody seemed to pay
any attention to me, I ventured to look
around; and I was struck by one fact
almost all the women were in mourning.
Not in complimentary or fancy black,
such as it is very chic now to wear, but
in real uncompromising mourning, jet
brooches, and all that sort of thing. I
thought with dismay of my own dark
blue gown and amber tie; for my period
of weeds was over. W hat did it mean i
Was it the livery of the table d'hote ?
Wa it considered good taste ? Or were
they really in auoh grief that they had
elected to travel in order to disperse
some f their sorrow ? I could not de
cide, to I looked gain. Then I aaw
that almost all the men wera clergyman,
and tha reat rough-looking peopla in
hooting-coate, with tannad facaa. B
ahia ma, on aid, an elderly gentle
man of amiable appearance, trade un
mistakably marked upon him ; on the
other, a lad with aquiline nose and
retreating chin. I could not tackle him,
for I always detest boys or any men
under thirty. I turned to my other
neighbor, rather uncertain, if it was the
thing to speak to one's neighbor, and
said: "Do yon think it will rain?" '.
noticed afterwards that it was raining
but then one cannot be expected to
think of everything and the old gentle
man answered pleasantly that he thought
it would. After that we got on capitally.
We began talking on all sorts of subjects,
even the Academy; he had seen a great
many pictures that I had somehow over
looked, and I felt quite at my ease and
at home, and laughed just as I do when
I am happy, when a sharp " Luke, my
dear, don't you see I want the salt?'
from the wife on tlie other side brought
us up short, and I had to hold my tongue
while my neighbor soothed his better
half s irritated feelings.
At the head of the table was a parson,
evidently looked upon as a persou of
importance, for reference was made to
his opinion on all subjects, from Church
questions to trout-fishing. The man
next him was stout and jocular, and car
ried on a rnnning conversation with the
waiter, in this wise "Yes I'll take some
more beef and some of the greens at
least;" on being corrected and informed
that they were not greens, but French
beans, "at least they're green, which the
greens never are. Now, then, give me
some strawberry jam 1 Who ever heard
of a Scotch meal without strawberry
jam ?" Opposite were a spruce little
couple she with polished hair braids
and best silk neckerchief and brooch ;
he in spotless black, like an undertaker
out of place, even the sparse hairs on
his head black and shiny and funereal.
They conversed much together amiably,
and he remarked that 7 o'clock was quite
a heathenish hour to dine at ; 6 o clock
was late enough in all conscience. The
meal was very plentiful and very good.
and every one did justice to it exoept
myself, who, after the remark about the
salt, felt distinctly snubbed.
The next morning, after I descended
to breakfast, I again sat next the same
family, but this time it wits next the
lady. I attempted, in the intervals of
scones and buttered toast and newly
gathered honey, quite delicious to an
English gourmet, to hazard a slight re
mark. The lady to&swl her head, and
said, "Indeed !' I felt further efforts
were hojieless ; and there was my friend
of last night at the head of the table,
not even daring to throw me a glance of
approval. . I drew myself up and looked
haughtily, as I can do when I like. But
the mother could smile well enough
when she chose, as she proved presently
when her good-looking daughter asked
for jam. I wondered what would have
been the result had I asked for jam. To
my surprise, later in the day, when 1
had finished my tramp among the hills
with Brasher the views were lovely,
but Brusher's petticoats got wet, and
she did not care for the walk the same
elderly lady came up to me at the sta
tion, where I was sitting partly on a coop
of chickens, partly on my own portman
teau, very damp and sticky with ladies ;
and said in an unctions voice, "I think
you said you were going to Inverness,
would you mind taking charge of my
daughter?" I felt flattered, pleased.
flabbergasted, all in one moment What
had happeLed ? Had the husband
apologized or the wife forgiven? Or
did she think, after all, a little widow at
tafe d'hote was entitled to some indul
gence, or perhaps she imagined I was a
duchess in disguise ? I never knew. But
the girl was very nice, and I took caix.'
of her as far as Inverness, much to
Brusher's disgust
A Telescope Story.
The San Francisco Call tells an extraor
dinary story respecting a monster telescope
made by 1 releasors iefevre and Jxmgtour,
French scientists, and erected at San Fran
cisco, the lenses are twenty letl in di
ameter, and this is what happened when
the astronomers and their frintis turned ihe
instrument to the heavens : M. Dufrere
was the first to apply his eye to the eye
piece of the telescope. For fully five ruin
uUi he looked on in speechless amazement
then, without a word, turned away to hide
bis emotion. One by one the gentlemen
present tested She telescope, exhibiting
their astonishment in various ways. The
planet wlikh happened to cast its beams
ipou the great speculum was Mtri, and the
revelation is too wonderful for credit. The
eyepiece of the lowest magnifying power
was nrtt placeo on, when the planet pre
sented a most astonishing sight The power
ful lens brought the planet nearer than that
of the moon has ever been brought by the
mort powerful telescope. The green of the
sea was brought out in unmistakable color,
aud one could almost imagine that be could
see the waves upon the surface. There be
fore the eye was spread out a splendid pano
rama of hill and dale.dark pnlches that must
he covered by forests.great yoilowish patch
es that looked like autumn fields, silvery
threads that must be rivers, and several
unmistakable volcanoes in action.
Th Boortiaa; Tne
A tree was recently brought front Aus
tralia to Nevada, which has been in the
habit at night of going to roost like the
chickens. The leaves fold together, and
the ends of the tender twigs coil themselves
up like the tail of a well-eondiuomvd pijj.
After one of the twigs has b en stroked ot
bandied, the leaves move uneasily and are
in a sort of mild commotion for a minute
or more. Indignant at having been trans
planted the other day, it bad hardly bet n
placed in its new quarters before the leaves
beean to stand up like the bair on the tail
of an angry cat and soon the whole plant
was in a quiver. It gave out a n.e pun
gent odor, which filled the house and was
so sickening that it was found necessary to
epen the coors and windows. It was fully
an hour before the plant calmed down and
folded its leaves in peace. It would proba
bly not have given up the fight even then
had it not been that its time lor going to
roott bad arrived. The whole household
now stand in awe of that plant
We love the evil we do ux til we offer
foe it
Envy theeteth at ethers and wonndetk
bunaelf.
Bluod and th A.Fn(r,
The postmaster of Mahanoy City, Pa,
recently received a letter signed 'Miohael
Oillaspie," containing a well-written ac
count of the murder of Matthew Dono
hoe, a young man twenty-eight years of
age, and of the subsequent killing of his
murderer, and it asked that the post
master deliver the letter to Donohoe'
family, who were supposed to reside in
Mahanoy Citv. Mr. Patrick Donohoe,
the father of the murdered man, was one
of the oldest residents of that place.
having lived at Cole's patch many years
ago, afterward moving into town, and
keeping the tavern at the First Ward
poll. He had a familv of several girls
and one boy. The girls went to live out
in Philadelphia (where their father join
ed them last Christmas) and the boy
Matthew became of a roving wild dispo
sition, aud wandered off, aliout five years
ago, into the western country. The
family received occasional letters inform
ing them of his whereabouts until some
thing over a year ago when they lost all
trace of the rover, until the letter aliove
referred to was received and handed to
Mr. Thomas Donohoe, a relative in this
place, who forwarded it to the family.
As near as we can learn, the facts stated
in the letter are as follows; Ear!v last
Winter "Matty" left Denver, Colorado,
for a point in Xew Mexico to engage in
the construction of a new railroad. The
only store at the plaee was kept by a
Spaniard, who, in addition to less harm
ful tilings, kept a good stock of frontier
whiskey. To this place Donohoe and
hut fellow-workman, Michael Oillaspie,
went one evening with the intention, we
supjHjse, of trying the quality of the
Spaniard's fluids. Oillaspie returned
shortly to the railroad camp and went to
sleep. The next morning, not seeing
Donohoe in the camp, he went to the
Spaniard's to inquire after him. Tlie
Litter stated that Donohoe had left for
the camp shortly after the departure of
his compauion.but while they were talk
ing one of the laliorers on the railroad
came hurrying iu with the news that a
man was lying dead in the woods a short
distance off. Oillasiiie turned to the
Spaniard and said;
"You did this."
The Spaniard denied having perpe.
trated the deed.
Gidespie reiterated; "You did it, and
in a few hours vou will follow him."
This threat was no idle one, for a short
time after Oillaspie got together a baud
ful of desperate characters, such as are
commonly to be found in tlie construc
tion gangs of the Western railroads.
They visited the Spaniard's, drank his
whisky; engaged hiiu iu a quarrel, and
fiiiished up by kicking the life out of
him on the floor of his own store, and
then gutted the establishment It was
a complete job, and a true specimen of
Western vengeance and lawlessness.
Oillaspie in his letter states that the
murdered Spaniard had killed four or
five persons in his lifetime, and was con
sidered a sure shot and a dangerous
character.
Ice Cream and Cilae.
"Is there any pure ice-cream? Well,"
a New York confectioner said, " I
claim to make ice-cream of pure ma
terials, but I cannot afford to sell it at
the price laid down by manufacturers,
They charge $1 a gallon, I charge $1.50.
and," although I give my customers a
pure article for their money, I don't sup
pose that I make nearly as much profit
out of a gallon as the large firms make
who sell it 50 cents cheaper."
"Why?"
"The reason is plain enough. If you
read this postal card it will give you the
key to the whole mystery:
"Dear Sir: We herewith sendsam-
ple: please give it a fair trial. Prion 50
cents per pound.
" Respectf ully yours, .
"This sample packet contained two
ounces of what was called gelatine, and
is said to make one aud a-half quarts of
crystalline jelly. In reality," the con
fectioner continued, "it is nothing more
nor less than a fair quality of glue, which
can lie lionght at any drug store. The
cost is estimated at from 35 cents to 30
cents a ponnd. It is not even gelatine,
for gelatine is usually sold iu sheets.
These two ounces are sufficient to make
two gallons of ice-cream. It is first
melted in luke-warm milk and then
poured into the freezer to give the cream
a lxxly. Nearly all the large manufactu
rers use it, and in proportion to the
amount of glue they put in, the less
cream they require. It is quite easy to
tell when ice-cream is adulterated. It
has a puffy appearance, somewhat like
Charlotte Russe, and if you plunge a
spoon into it you will almost feel the air
rnshnig out Alter eating n a peculiar
sensation is felt in the throat This
arises from two causes: First, from the
gelatine, so-called; and secondly, from
the adulterated flavoring that is used.
For instance, the lemon flavor is obtain
ed from oil of lemons; the strawierry
flavor from concentrated strawberry,
which, in turn, is made from ether; the
vanilla extract from alcohol, as it does
not pay to make it from the beans, which
cost $i0 per pound. That is how some
manufacturers get their flavoring. Since
this refined clue has been introduced, '
corn-starch is nsed less extensively. It
in not uncommon for big dealers to put
bone-dust in their white sugar, so that
von see there is another item of adulter
ation."
'What does a quart of pure ice-cream
cost you?"
A quart of pure cream costs
cento. I can buy cream for 15 cents,
but it isn't pure. Four freh eggs coat
8 cents, a half-pound white standard
sugar 5 cents, flavoring 3 cents, ice and
salt 8 cents. Total, 39 cents. This will
give a little over a quart, and I generally
put the actual cost of a quart at about 30
cents, or 1.20 per gallon, leaving a mar
gin of 30 cents profit The fact is, no
wholesale manufacturer can produce
pore ioe-oream at $1 a gallon, and there
fore they have to put glue into it in
acder to make a big profit on their sales.
The Bank CommiBsioners of Xjw
Hampshire, in their annual report, state
that the total deposits in 64 banks
amount to $82,000,000. The banks
have a surplus of $2,225,000,
A Fearful Half-Hoar.
In the early days of the Cincinnati
Southern,before it had attained its pres
ent system, and immediately after the
road had been opened for traffic to Som
erset, occurred an event the recollection
of which even to this day serves to bring
out goose flesh on those who at the time
were cognizant of tlie impending disas
ter.
vtitiun a lew days alter passenger
travel began the othoers of the Southern
sent invitations for a trip over the road
to all of Cincinnati's wealthiest men and
heaviest tax-payers, aud ou the morning
of the excursion dozens of carriages left
the Burnet bouse, the place of meeting
aud conveyed them across the river to
Ludlow, where the "special," headed bv
No. 1, the crack engine, with Mat
Coomlis at the lever, was in waiting.
Miles N. Beattv, now superintendent of
the southern division, was conductor.
n nen all the excursionists were on
board the engineer and conductor went
into 'train dispatcher Cooledge s oihee.
where they read and signtnl the follow.
ing order, and placed copies in their
pockets :
Meet and pass No. 2, north-bound
passenger train, at uhamstown.
To uhamstown for delivery to the
uorth-lNiund passenger train on arrival,
was sent tlie following order :
Conductor :
"Meet, and pass south-lsmn.l special
at illiaiustown.
So that the situation stood thus either
train reaching the place indicated first
was to go on the siding and wait there
until the one coming from the opiiosite
direction had arrived and gone ahead on
the cleared track. Of the wealthy passen
ger load some were seated chatting,
others were standing ou the platforms.
and still others on the summer car, when.
glancing np and down his train, the con
ductor, finding everything in good order
and readiues, waved his hand to the
watching engineer, and the special pulled
out, slowlv at first, but as it moved on
the sieed increased until it went out of
ht around the curve a-flyiug, and a
little later a rumbling sound told of its
crossing tlie trestle, and that it was well
and fairlv started on the wav south. It
was understood that extra fast time was
to be nia.li', and to offer no olwtacle the
track had lieen cleared of eveything save
the passenger train referred to.
One half hour after the start from
Ludlow, No. 2. fifteen minutes behind
time, reached Willianistown, at which
plaoe the standing rule was imperative
that conductors should at all times stop
and inquire for orders. Stopping only
long enough to unload a passenger in the
mud, the conductor, thinking only of
making up lost time, signaled the engi
neer, and the train went on.
The horrified operator from his window
saw o, 2 flashing northward to what
seemed inevitable destruction, as the tel
egraph line 1s t ween his room and Lud-
ow was unbroken by a single instrument.
and at that moment two trains at high
rates of speed were rapidly lessening the
distance between each other cn the sin
gle track. He telegraphed at once to
Ludlow that " No, 2 had passed without
stopping for orders."
All color left the face of train dispatch
er Cooledge as he received the message
and as he communicated the .lire in
telligence to Jack Redmond, master of
transportatisn, that individual s counte
nance assumed a similar hue. With him
think was to act Stepping to the
station door he quietly lieckoned several
men to him and composedly gave in
structions to each. One-half dozen of
them went on the double-quick in diff
erent directions for physicians. The store
keepers went mto the warehouse and
gathered together sponges, baskets, ma
terials for splints and soft muslin lor
au.lages. Meanwhile other employees
had run up to the engine-house, and
tartmg a lire under an idle locomotive
ad hitched on to a calioose and backed
own in front of the station where the I
car was transformed at once into a hos-
ital coach. To all save Redmond and
Cooledge these preparations were mvs-
terious. The relief train was soon in
readiness, but did not start Redmond,
seated at the desk aud estimating the
rate of speed at which the trains were
moving, calculated alxmt where the col
lision would take place. Some of the
passengers would escaiie unhurt, and
one of them would hasten at once on
horseback to Willianistown, the nearest
point for niedical aid. Here the ojierator
would learn the exact localitv of the ao
cident and send a dispatch to Ludlow.
Possessed of this information Redmond
could send his waiting engine and car,
with its con 's of phvsicians and nurses.
to the spot at the rate of nearly a mile
a minute. The other and slower
plan would lie to let the "relief" start out
and cautiouslv find its wav around the
many curves. He chose the wiser course.
The "scene iu the train dispatcher's office
was painful. Cooledge, leaning over the
silent instrument, watched it with fever
ish eyes as if to read its secret ln-fore
transmission. On another chair was
Redmond, with big globes of perspiration
coming from the pores of his face and
ti- -i i. . .j-l x- :.t
rolling uown uuueetieiu eiuier mail
spoke. Five, ten, twenty, thirty minutes
that seemed like ages passed, when came a
sharp click. It was Williams town call
ing l,udlow. Cooledge a hair rose np on
end as he gave the response. Redmond
stood up and placed a hand on the door
knob. The next moment Cooledge fair
ly veiled, "No collision. No. 2, has just
hacked into Willianistown." The two
men shook hands with the same vigor as
if they were twin brothers and hadn't
met for a thousand years.
It was then ascertained that, by tlie
most fortunate circumstances, the trains
had simultaneously entered from opiio
site ends upon the longest pisce of
straight track between the two telegraph
stations, and an instantaneous application
of brakes had brought them to a stop with
in twenty feet of each other. No. 2, re-
cegnizing the "special's" right of way.
backed to lUiamstown, where it went
in on the siding.and Cincinnati's million
aires and capitalists proceeded unhurt on
their journey.
Tricks of Auctioneer.
A young couple who came from the
country, having a little ready money,
determined to try the experiment of
letting furnished rooms in New York.
They hired a house within four blocks of
Madison Square, in a residence neigh
borhood, at a moderate rent, and stocked
it with furniture which, although not
new, was in a fair condition. They paid
$1,200 for their furniture. After a few
weeks they concluded that the experiment
would not be profitable, at both were in
ill health, and they decided to sell their
furniture. Advertisementa for purchas
ers at private sale brought none willing
to give more than $1,000 for the furni
ture, and the owners made np their
minds to sell it by auction.
An auctioneer was recommended to
them, and he went to look at the goods.
He told them that the furniture would
bring more than $1,000 at auction. He
was so positive that he offered to take
the goods and pay $900 cash for them.
When the day of sale came the auction
eer took charge of the house, with his
clerks and helpers. The owners were
lioth sick and unable to give their per
sonal attention. Meanwhile the auction
went on. Pretty soon friends who had
come to bid on several articles of value
found that they couln not catch the eye
of the auctioneer. Tlie house was filled
w ith second-hand dealers who were on
familiar terms with the "going going
gone man, and they alone could get
their bids recognized. The result was
that things went for nominal prices. It
was in vain that the honest bidders pro
tested that their bids had not been
recognized.
"Can't help it; I didn't hear yon;" or.
"You must speak louder;" or, "I did
not see you," were the replies that tlie
auctioneer made in an off-hand way as
he hurried from one article to another.
It was in vain that messengers went to
the owners and told them that their pro
perty was Wing given away. The sale
was rushed through, and a thing would
hardly be put up before it was knocked
down to some of the dealers who crowded
around the auctioneer, and with know
ing nods and winks showed how they
enjoyed the legalized robliery that was
going ou. A parlor set worth $150 was
sold for $40. An easy chair worth 40
went for $.". Hair mattresses worth 18
sold for 4. Kitchen utensils were
knocked down burriedlv for a few cents
liefore anxious bidders in the room could
get a chance to hid.
heu the auctioneer settled w ith the
owners he hail a long list of charges and
commissions, bills for advertising, print
ing catalogues, help, stationarv, jier-
ceutage, auctioneers' fees, etc., which
took off a large slice of even the small
lerceiitiige of value obtained. Tlie result
was that the owners got aliout $200 for
$1,200 worth of furniture, and had the
satisfaction of seeing a large jmrt of it
for sale in a neighUiring auction store
the next da v.
Interesting to fen-don rlaiinnnta.
The Commissioner, with the approval
i Secretary Kirk wood, has initiated a
new practice which will greatly facilitate
the business of his office, and to a great
extent obviate the delavs to which clai
mants for pensions have heretofore lieen
subjected. It has lieen the practice
heretofore Uon the filling of an appli
cation for a pension for the commission
er to wait until he had lieen furnished
y the adjutant general and surgeon
general with the military and hospital
record of the applicant liefore calling on
dm to furnish any evidence required
from him in his own liehalf. This has
greatly retarded the settlement of claims,
owing to the fact that the officers of the
war department have lieen unable to fur
nish the data required from them as
rapidly as needed. Thus since the pas
sage of the arrearages act in January,
1879, aliout 200,000 claims have lieen
filed, upon 83,000 of which have tlie ad
jutant general and surgeon general been
able to make a report Commissioner
Bently says that in al there are now
aliout 130,000 claims waiting for n-jiorts
from the war departments, and tlie nuni
lier is increasing at the rate of 100 a day.
Tlie commissioner has therefore prepar
ed a circular, a copy of which will lie
sent as soon as practical le to each ap
plicant for pension whose case is waiting
f. ir the reports fn im the war departments
In this circular the commissioner sa's
that the delays attending the practice of
waiting for the reports from the war de
partment in each case "have increased
to such an extent that the interests of
both tlie claimant and the government
are liable to lie seriously prejuced there
by, liecause the deaths which occur
among the claimants and witnesses, to
gether with the lapse of' time, greatly
increase the oliscurity of the facts upon
which the pensions depend, and add to
the difficulties in ascertaining the truth.'
Carp.
The carp is a historic fish. In the
pou.ls of the famous castles and great
gardens of Europe they are to be seen
the sole fish sporting in those clear
waters. In the pond of the famous
chateau of Fontaineblean commenced
in the reign of St Louis and at the time
of the Crusaders at Charlottenburg, at
Wilhelmshohe, where the late Emperor
Napoleon was a prisoner, and at the
famous and beautiful Cassel, they are to
lie found. It ia a matter of tradition
that these fish live two, three, and even
four hundred years, but it Ls a matter of
tradition only. However, it is well
authenticated that they do live to a great
age. All visitors at tne supero garuens
of tlie chateau of Fontainebleau hasten
to watch the carp in the fish pond. They
come swimming rapidly irom every
portion of the water to the platform,
where an old woman sits dispensing
great pieces of bread for a son apiece.
This bread every one buys and throws
out to the fish. If a large piece be
thrown, the tough old fellows group
around it, heads together, and tails
making every possible angle in the
water, and fighting vigorously for the
entire meal. There are some of these
fish with silver rings in their aosee, and
it is said that in the nostrils of one of
them ia a silver circlet, with the date
engraved thereon, and placed there by
the fair and unfortunate handB of Mane
Antoinette. But, as it was said, this is
a matter of tradition, and one of the
things that for certain no one ran find
out
Among mortals second thoughts are
the wisest
A joyful evening may follow a sorrow
ful morning.
Blle of th Kitchen.
Recently the proprietor of a jeweler's
store called a reporter's attention to two
customers who were departing with quiet
dignity after having made some pur
chases. "We think a great deal of such
customers here," he said, "though they
are only servant girls. Their taste in
jewelry is often equal to their mistresses'
sometimes superior. Thev are not
led away by the follies of the too ntterlv
intensely intense. I know nianv l.i;.l
who never buy our kind of goods w ith
out first consulting with their maids."
"Do you do much business with th
maids themselves ?"
"Considerable; some of it is on th-
lady's account, some on the maid's an.l
some on their joint acoauut I do much
repairing for servants who have broken
or indented expensive pieces of plate.
The girls always want them well reimirl
ed, and do not stand at expense. Besides
1 often receive very valuable iew-lrv
from servants, who will offer to pav al
most any charge if they can have it re
paired at once, and in such a wav that
the uijury will not be iiereeived. The
customers are very nervous, and T 1.
ways know that they have lieen wearing
their mistresses' jewelry to a waiting
maid's balL In New York there's a
deal of high life in the kitchen. Just af
ter the holidays I had an expensive ear
ring brought me to match. The servant
nad lost its teUow at a ball. Some months
ago a fine looking lady's maid came hi
ud descrilied minutely a handsome
brooch that she had Iost and I was di
rected to spare no expense in replacing
it at once. She tried to apjiear like a
fashionable woman, and played her part
weJI; but I had seen her too often pass
ing tlie store wheeling a baby carriage
not to know who she was."
"It will lie expensive," said I. "to do
this hunting np, and will require an ex
pert; why not advertise for the one vou
have lost"
"Oh, dear, no!" she safd, hastily, "it
wouldn't I mean I must have it at the
earliest possible moment"
"You see, sir," continued the jeweler,
"she knew the loss might lie discovered
if the lady read the pajier."
"How much did it cost the girl ?"
"I made it light, $.), charging just
$5 for my time. The girl was very grate
ful, and it turned out a good thing for
me. She brought me all he family's re
pairing and some other jiaying work.
Ifa a good plan for us to treat the ladies
maids welL"
"These girls must have money."
"They get well paid and many per
quisites. All of them have a nice nest
egg, until they are foolish enough to rt
married. The smaller jewelers all like
to have their trade, an.l thev do not bnv
so much cheap jewelry as you might
suppose. Their trade is often worth
more to us than their mistress". Yon
would lie surprised to see how my lady
will naggle over a trrirling sum for re
pairing that the maid would lie too
proud to dispute. Then, too, the rich
woman, when she wants something new
and stylish.won't go to the small jeweler,
who has, perhaps, lieen losing money on
her repairing, but to oue of the greater
houses, where she will seldom do as
well. At their parties the maids aro
lioun.l to have everyWly know they've
got on their mistresses' jewels.but you'd
get a bad result if you just hinted that
their clothes were not their own. Some
times I think that they own np to the
jewelry, liecause jieople would know
they couldn't afford to have such expen
sive things of their own. They almost
always put on their ladies' manners with
their jewelry, very often call tliemselvea
by their mistresses' names an.l gn
through the upper-ten ceremonies in the
grandest style you ever saw."
"So yon have seen some of these par
ties ?"
"Often. Tlie niaids cannot alwavs
got at their mistresses' jewelry, though
they use all aorta of dodges to get at it.
Then they come to me and hire my
gioda, and I go to the jiarty to keep my
eye on the stock, for they are not al
ways able to pay a full dcpneut"
"What are the dodges resorted to bv
maids who want to get hold of their mis-
stresses jewelry for an evening ?"
"There are many of them. One of the
safest Ls to pick up a brooch and sudden
ly find that one of the stones is loose.
I've known them to loosen a large dia
mond just to get possession of the arti
cle of jewelry, and then come to me
hastily to have it tightened for the
uight's wear. Then in the morning the
maid will loosen it again, and bring it
for me to pinch it up once more. On the
second occasion I am directed to 'send
it home please,' and so it gets back to
the hands of my lady. Sometimes they
ill break or bend out a clasp."
"How do you get such accurate infor
mation on the subject ?"
"Young man, if you would just call in
here some morning, right after a fash
ionable ladies' maids' party.and watch the
qtianity of splendid jewelry that U
brought here for the most trivial kind of
repairing, you wouldn't ask that ques
tion." ;
"Did you ever make an estimate of
the value of the diamonds and jewelry
worn on any single occasion of this kind
you name ?
"I made three estimates just for my
own amusement at the most fashion
able affairs held last winter; not very
large, but select The figures do not
include watches, for I could not examine
them. This," continued the jeweler,
pointing to a column of figures, "was
the largest
The footing was $83,000.
He that does you a very ill turn, will
never forgive you.
A wise man will make more opportu
nities than he finds.
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