; '
THE 005STITTJTI03 THE U5I05 AID THE EfrOfcOEMEHT OP THE LAWS.
Editor and Proprietor.
B. F. SCHWEIER,
MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY. PENN A.. WEDNESDAY. MARCH 5, 1884.
NO. 10.
VOL. XXXVIII.
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BO.VT TOO T1LL.
If you Lave a cherished secret.
Don't yon tell.
Sot your Irieud for Ms tympanum
In a bell,
With it echoes, wide rebounding,
Multiplied and far resounding;
Dou't you U-LL .
If yourself, you cannot keep It,
Tben.Vho can ?
Could you more expect of anr
Other man ?
Tat you put him, if he tells it
If he pit away or sells it,
I'nder ban.
Sell your jnis to any buyer
In the mart;
Of your wealth to feed the hungry
Spare a part.
Blessings on the open pricket,
liut your secret ke. p it, lock It
In your heart.
A GIRO'S FULLY.
A small, superior coltaze of bright
red brick, sweet -scentpu woouoiuc nail
ing over its rustic iorch. a green lawn
before it surrounded by flowers, and
charming couulry landscape spread ing
out iu the distance. Inside, in its small
but prettv parlor, on the red table-cover,
waited the tea-tray, with its cups and
saucers. The window stood otn to the
still, warm autumn air, and the French
porcelain clock on the mantelpiece was
striking five.
A slender girl of sorr.e twenty years
came in. She was very lovely. But her
bright, blue eyes bore a port of weary or
discontented look, and her bright brown
hair was somewhat ruffled. She wore a
print washing-dress of black and white,
neither verv smooth nor very fresh, and
a lat e neck-eol!ar fastened with a bow
of black ribbon.
She had made an aptHjintment to meet
Reginald Vavasour, a rich young gen
tleman who made her acquaintance,
down by the willow walk, ami her lover.
Thomas Watkyn, had told her he could
call that evening. Jus-t before he left
she said:
'May I ask you to do me a little fav
or, i nomas r"
"What is it?" he repeated.
"If you would not very much mind
going home by the hill and would leave
this note at Miss Ford's. I particularly
wish her to have it this evening."
lie paused for an instant, not reply
ing. She went on hurriedly:
"I see that it is disagreeable to you. 1
have offended you too much."
"Not that," be answered, holding out
his hand for the note. "Hut I can hard
ly spare the time for the long way this
evening, as 1 have to call a: Killick's
for my father. However " he said ne
more, but took the note.
"Good-bye, Thomas."
"Good-bye."
"I'm glaa he took the note! I siiall be
safe now. "
Miss Alison Reece was a clever young
lady. The direct and uear way to Mr.
Walkyn's home wou'd lead him past
the willow walk. She had devised this
lmprompt note to her dressmaker in the
afternoon to prevent his taking that
usual route, Had he seen voting ava-
sour cooling his heels within the pre
cincts of the willow walk he would in
evitably suspect he was waiting to keep
a lover's tiyst.
Alison was busy in the kilcken next
morning when she heard her mother
open the front doorand some re come
hi. "It is that chattering Mrs. Ben
nett," thought she, as she dried the tea
spoons.
"Alison, come bete," called h r moth
er, in a quick voice.
She went to the parlor just as sue was
her sleeves turned back at tbe wrist,
a large brown Holland apron on. Veiy
pretty she looked with it all. But it
was not Mrs. Bennett who sat with her
mother; it was a venerable, white-hair
ed old gentleman Mr. atkyn, the
ider.
"1 am come to ask about Thomas,"
said he. "I believe he came here last
night, Miss Alison; at what time did be
leave your"
A prevision struck her with a sort of
terror that something was wrong. He
left me quite early." she faltered.
"Well, he has never come home."
"Xot come home!" she said, with a
whitening face.
"I sat up till one o'clock, and then I
thought the mist must have kept him;
that he had stayed at some friend's
house, I knew not what to think, and
that he would be home the first thing
this morning. But we have not seen him,
and I cannot hear of him."
Mrs. Ueece was impressed with the
frightened, guilty look that Alisoncould
cot keep out of her countenance, and
began to feel uneasy.
"Cannot you tell what time it was
whea he left you?" she demanded stern
ly.
"It was after dusk. It was just after
sunset before the mist came on. It
must l ave been near 7 o'clock."
"Which road did he take?" pursued
Mr. Rtece. And very nlue'autly Ali
son answered, for she foresaw it would
bring on further questioning:
"The long road round by the bill."
"Round by the bid?" echoed Mr.
Watkjn, in alarmed surprise. "Why
did he take that, ay?"
Alison titishtd and paled alternately;
her lips were tiemlling. The fear creep
ing upon her was that lie and young Va
vasour had wet and quarreled. I'erhaps
fougiit and injured one another fatally.
In these dread moments of suspense the
mind ij apt to conjure up f.-r-f etched
and unlucky thoughts.
"I asked him to go around that way,"
she replied. In a timid tone "I wanted
him to leave a note fur ce at the dress
maker's Old Mr. Watkyn sank into a chair,
putting his hands before his troubled
face. "I see it all," be breathed faint
ly. "He must Lave fallen down the
Scar."
Alison uttered a scream of horror.
"Deceived by the mist, he mus', have
walked to, near the edge," continued
the old man. "Heaven grant that it
may not be so. but I fear it. A' as he
mad, to attempt to cross the plateau on
such a night?"
Catching up bis hat, Mr. Watkyn
went out swiftly. Mrs. Reece grabbed
her daughter's hands. They were icy
cold.
"Alison, what passed between you
and Thomas hist niht?"
"lon't ak me, mother. Let me fol
low Mr. Watkyn. I cannot rest indoors.
Oh, it cannot, cannoi be as he fearsl"
"Xot one step until you tell roe what
passed, "said the mother firmly. There's
more in all this than what greets the
eye."
"He asked me to give up talking to
Mr. Vavasour."
"And you refused. Well?"
"lie told me I must choose between
them," continued Alison, bursting into
vd, mouier it was au my folly,
all my temper; be could not see that,
and when he went away he said he went
for good." '
Mrs. Reece drew In her thin lips stern
ly. She was thinking.
"And what does it mean about your
giving him a note for the dressmaker?
I do not understand. You had nothing
to write about."
The girl had got her handa free and
flung them before her face to deaden
the sobs. But Mrs. Reece was a reso
lute mother at times, and she extorted
the confession. Alison had improvised
the note, and sent Thomas around the
long way to deliver it, and so keep him
from passing by the willow walk.
"Oh, child, child!" moaned the dis
mayed woman. If be has indeed fallen
over the Scar it is you who have given
hinihis death."
And it proved to be so. In taking the
two miles round between the cottage
and the farm a high and perpendicular
precipice, called the Scar, had to be
passed. The tableland, or plateau ou
the top, was wide and a perfectly safe
road by daylight, since a traveler could
keep as far from the unprotected edge
as he pleased, but on a dark night or m
a thick fog it was most dangerous. De
ceived by the mist of the previous night,
Thomas "Watkyn must have drawn near
the edge unwittingly and fallen over it.
There be lay on the sharp rock, wheu
the poor father and others went to lool
for him, his death-like face upturned
toward the blue sky.
'Speak to me, Thomas, speak to
me!" wailed Alison, quite beside herself
with remorse and grief, as she knelt by
him,' wringing her bands. "Oh, Thom
as, speak to me I I loved you all the
while." - ,
But Thomas neither spoke nor moved.
The voice that had nothing but tender
words was silent now; the heart she had
grieved might never beat in sorrow or
joy again.
o person had seen or spoken with
him after quitting her the previous
night, save the dressmaker, little, in
dustrious Miss Ford. She had answer
ed his knock herself, she related, and he
put the note into her hands, saying,
Miss Ueece had asked him to leave it in
passing. "What a thick mist it is that
has come on," he remarked to her m his
I l.'as.int, cha ty way, Aye,it is indeed,
sir," she answered, and shut the door
as lie walked away.
For many weeks Alison Reece lay ill
with brain fever, hovering between life
and death. Some people said it was the
shock that made her ill and took her
senses away; others thought that she
must have lo 1 the poor young mas to
distraction; no one, save her mother.
knew it aas the memory of her hist in
terview with him, and the scheming to
send him on the route that led to his
accident, that had well-nigh killed her.
But the young are strong in their tena
city of life, and she grew better by slow
degrees.
One warm April afternoon, when
the winter mouths had given place to
spring, Alison, leaning on the arm of
her mother, went to sit on the porch,
She was very feeble yet. It was the
first she had sat there since that memor
able evening with her ill-fated lover.
There she remained thinking and dream
ing. 1hey could not persuade her to
come iu, and so wrapped her in a warm
sliawL .
Sunset came on, and was almost as
beautiful, curious, perhaps, that it
should be so, as the one he and she had
watched together more than six months
before. The brilliant lams shone like
molten gold in the glowing west, the
blue sky around was flecked with pi:ik
and amethyst. Alison's eyes were tixe J
on the lovely scene with an enraptured
gaze, her bps slightly parted with emo
tion.
Alison, what are you thinking of?"
"Of him, mother. Of his happiness.
He is living in all that glorious beauty
I think there mnst have been an uncon
scious prevision in Lis mind by what he
said that evening as we watched it,
that he should soon be there. Oh, moth
er, I wish I was going to him! I wish
1 could be with him to-morrow."
The mother paused; she felt inclined
to say something, but she feared the
agitation it might cause.
"Well, well, child, you are getting
belter," she I recently answered.
"Yes, I do get better," sighed the
girl. "I supposed it pleased God that
1 should."
"Time soothes all things, Alison.
again In time you will be strong
and able to fulfill life's various
duties with a zest. Trials are good oh.
so very goodl for the soul. But for
meeting with them we might never learn
the way to heaven."
Alison did not answer. Iler feeble
hands were clasped in silent prayer, her
face was listed to the glories of the
evening sky.
It was at the same sunset hour, an
eveneng or two later, that Alison, who
was picking up strength dailv, strolled
away to the churchyard. She wanted
to InoK for a newly-made grave in that
corner where so many of the Watkyns
lay buried.
She could not see it; the same grave
stonts that were there now were there
before; theie was no fresh one,
"I'erhaps they opened the old vault
for him," thought Alison, as she sat
down on a bench just inside the gate,
for she was too weak to walk back again
without a rest. -
The sun was going down to-night
without any loveliness, just as a crimson
ball, which seeemed to give red light to
the atmosphere, and to light up redly
the face of a pale, tottering man who
was coming up to the gate by the help
of a stick. He halted Wuen he reached
it. Alison turned sick and faint with
all manner of emotions as she gazed at
him, fright being uppermost.
"Alisoul"
"Thomas!"
Ho held out his hand; became inside;
his pale, sad face wore for her its old,
sweet expression.
"Oh, Thomas, I thought you were
dead," she burst out in a storm of sobs.
1 came here to look for your grave. 1
thought I had killed you."
"I bey thought I was dead at fust.
They thought for a long while that I
should die," be answered, as he sat
down beside her, keeping her hands in
his. "But the skilllul medical men have
raised me up, under Uud. I hope
in time to roe strong and well again."
"Can you ever forgive me?" she wail
ed, bitter, painful tears falling down
her cheeks like rain. "I shall never
forgive m self."
.No? Then you must atone to me
instead, Alison. Be all the more lot
ing to me during our future lives. We
must pass them together, my dear."
"Do you mean ft still?" she gasped.
"Oh, Thomas, how good and true, you
are. IX I can only be a little bit worthy
of you." '
Ther walked home slowly; arm in
arm. Neither could walk fast yet. Mrs.
Rece came to the porch to meet them.
God is full of mercy, she thought.
"I did not tell hr, Thomas," she said;
she was so dieudfully low when she
came out of the fever."
"I have told her myself; it was best
so." answered Thomas Watkyn.
-. :- ,. t - - . .. ,-.
A W lutor Uesurt for Il!ta or Uc
The rapid pace at which our business
aff iiis are driven at the present time
necessitates more frequent iuses for
rest than iu the days of old when busi
ness was conducted mere slowly and
with greater deliberation. Xot only in
the exhausting heat of .summer, but
there should be pauses for rest also
In the equally trying days of mid
winter. It is most fortunate, there
fore, that for the people of the United
States, especially from New York and
Philadelphia, there is easily accessible
in Atlantic City a place where not only
a season of repose for the weary worker
may be found but likewise a sanitarium,
generously endowed by nature with
balmy breezes, warm suns and a uni
form temperature, accompanied by all
the comforts, conveniences and luxu
ries cf life. Four hours rid over the
Pennsylvania railroad from New York,
and two hours from Philadelphia will
bring the invalid or the visitor for plea
sure to the delightful city by the sea.
Atlantic City is situated on an Island
bounded on the south aud east by the
ocean, and on the other sides by an arm
of the sea. Its mail! exposure is south
ern, and the welcome rays of the win
ter sun bathe it In a flood of soft and
mellow light. The surroun ling waters
are open during the year, and only in
the coldest snaps does ice form on the
inlet. The winds as well as the wave
favor this fortunate spot. From the
north, northwest and southwest the
winds travel for miles over arid and
porous sands on which snow never lies.
and become dried and warmed in their
passage. The southern and eastern
winds come in from the sea laden with
the heated vapor of the Gulf Stream to
tone down the temperature to a delight
ful degree. We are told by meteorolo
gists that the Gulf Stream, in conse
quence of its proximity to the coast, af
fects the temperature more powerfully
here than at any other part of the At
lantic coast. Just opposite Atlantic
City the stream s Teeps in landward to
within forty-five miles of the shore, and
the heated waters of the Tropics serve
as a natural radiator, tempering the
harshness of this northern latitude.
With all these advantages of site it is
not surprisiug that the thermometer
conducts itself with charming propriety
at Atlantic City. As winters go it rare
ly drops below thirty-two decrees, and
trustworthy observations show that
fair average for its noon-day reading in
mid-winter is forty-live or fifty degrees.
Atlantic City is a city not only in
name but in fact having a resident pop
ulation of seven thousand people. It
is laid out in straight, wide avenues
bordered with trees and adorned with
handsome hotels and artistic villas.
Electric lights, a street railway, and a
uniformed police attest its municipal im
portance. There are fine drives along
the avenues or on the beach, and all the
facilities are at call.
Of hotels there is an unlimited sup
ply. There are rich apartments for the
wealthy, comfortable quarters for the
indepentent. humble lodgings for the
poor. Many of the first-class hotels
remain open throughout the year.
With this view they are adapted to use
as winter homes, and are as comfortable
in mid-winter as they are agreeable in
the heat of the dog-days. They are heat
ed by steam and made cosily attractive
by open grates. Several of them, have
been thoroughly refitted since the
close of the summer season. Many of
them have bath-houses where one can
indulge the luxury of a salt-water bath;
and well-arranged sun-parlors, where
invalids or others may bask in the bright
sunlight without encountering the out
er air. These parlors are glass-Inclosed
porticos, affording excellent indoor
promenades.
The health record of Atlantic City is
unsurpassed, jno epidimic has ever
raged there. The drainage is good, the
streets are well cleaned and the drink
ing water is brought fresh and pure
from the mainland. Thousands of
patients have been sent here by their
physicians and returned well and hear
ty. Why should we go to Europe in sea-ch
of health and at great expense when we
have here, at our own doors, all the ap
pliances for comfort, Invigorating breez
es, warm suns, entertainments and
sports of all kinds, all of these at prices
within the reach of all?
Lamps are very .ashionabl aud not
chiefly on account of high and poor gas
though tht may not be without it?
efleC, but for the reason that they can
be without its effect, but for the rearon
that they can be very handsome orna
ments for the drawing-room table.
Again, their steady light is by many
preferred to - that of gas. They are
troublesome, to be sure,, but they pay
for the trouble, though ladies are not
always willing to trust their servants to
fill the expensive articles, and perform
this not very agreeable work themselves.
The styles now out are very beautiful,
and some of them very costly. Fven
when nnlighted they are decidedlj pret
ty, and it a evident that certain ot the
I rettiest are never lighted, but are kept
for mere show. Tno double student's
lamp comes now in a variety of styles
and is peculiarly adapted for reading,
embroidering and the like. In fact, a
handsome room is no longer complete
in its furniture without a handsome
lamp.
India meal and rye meal are In dan
ger cf fermenting in summer, partic
ularly Indian. They should be kept
in a cool place, and stirred open to the
air once in a whila. A large stone rut
in the middle ot a barrel of meal is a
good thing to keep it cool,
Sprats aad Mprattlnf.
Few of the thousands, who welcome
the arrival of these "small deer" in
Englaad at the beginning of winter
either think or care much where they
come from or what their history may
be. That they come up from the coast
by rail is enough knowledge for the
poor who eat them; and the sprat is
Tar too cheap and common to excite
much interest among the middle and
upjier classes, especially since it has
been pretty well settled for them by
those learned in such things that he is
neither overgrown whitebait nor young
herring. But from the 1st ot Novem
ber to All Fools' Day sprats are a con
tinual feast to many, aud a source of
speculation aud income to fish-dealers
and to huudreds of costermongers, who
watch and wait for them early and late
in LoBdon or at the quays of certain
coast towns. Spratting again, in one
fonu or other, affords a welcome
rotans of tiding over two or three of
the deadest winter months to many
coast boatmen,' owners of quite small
open boats, using Cue drift-nets as for
herrings. ' From such beaches as Deal
and W aimer a little fleet of these boats
will start before sunset iu the after
noon, make one haul, and return early
iu the evening with their net stuck full
of the best and most regular-sized
sprats. A seine is also used for sprat
ting in bays where the shore is clean;
but, from the small mesh required, a
sprat-seine of any size is costly, and
n'ay lie too long idle to be very profita
ble. And though now and then hun
dreds of bushels of sprats have been
actually dipped from the sea iu buckets
and baskets, yet it is to the stow-boats
of the mouth of the Thames and Solent
that the London poor owe their chief
supply of these valuable little fislu
I .ate in October an old cutter, which,
just floating on the top of the tide, has
lam for months pillowed upon some
high mud-iauk, becomes all at once a
centre of interest aud busy work to a
party of four or five men, who, under
the direction and example of au ex
lrienced skipper, soon change the forsaken-looking
old craft into a floating
home for the winter. She may have
been a pleasure-yacht in her day, but
can never be s again;, for once a
spratter, always a spratter: the oily
liquor which has drained from tons of
iisti down among her timbers leaving
'an ancient aud fish-like smell" about
her that no amount of tar or paint can
rid her of. One has but to go down
the three low steps into her cabin to
understand bow large and airy the
tinest yacht's forecastle must ap.ear
to men who spend their winter on
board a slow-boat. The middle p-irt
of the vessel is given up to the stowage
of the fish. Abaft this space, with a
small sliding door opening into it, is
the sitting-room, some 8 feet by 7 feet
aud 4 feet 6 inches high. At the fore
end of it a lire is burning in a large old
rusty grate; the first idea of men en
gaged in such cold damp work being
warmth. Giving upon it, aud round
this cabin, are ranged three berths
hard to find at first, each having but
one opening of sixteen by twenty inches
square, cloted by a sliding panel.
These berths, though not always so
occupied, are supposed to hold two
persons; and a berth which lies atii
wartsliips, just over the steps going
back into the smack's tail or couuter,
and having the i udder-case passing
through it, is allotted to one man and
"the cook." This is a small boy, who
even now is busy doing bis feeble best
to remove the smoke and dirt of last
winter's cruise from the cabin a task
in which he can never quite succeed.
By-and-by, when their net is down,
one hand being left on deck to watch
it, the rest of the crew, kicking off
their heavy sea-boots, will creep into
atd coil themselves up in these closely
boarded little cupboards, warm and
dry at any rate; aud despite the rattle
and clatter of the outer arrangements
of a small craft riding in a short sea,
they will get live or six hours' sounder
sleep than fans to ttie lot oi many
ashore in the best ordered bed-rooms.
If the look of the spratter below is
not very yacht-like, that of her deck is
still less so; for, after it has been care
fully caulked, it is made as black as
two eood coats or coal-tar cau make it.
But when the old Enterprise is moved
from her self-made dock in the mud,
and liesashore upon some clean "hard,"
hinii g in all the glory of a fresh coat
of tar after the dirt and weeds have
bet-n "breamed" or burnt off, she is the
pride and admiration of the skipper
and his crew; who walk around her
again and again before the tide comes,
looking out tor "holidays" or giving a
touch here and there to some dull
spot. As the tide flows aud the vessel
floats again, the long brown funnel
shaped net is carefully taken over her
side and triced up in the rigging to
air. The smau mesn oi me siow-nei
only half an inch from knot to knot in
parts, gives It a very sond looK when so
banging, quite distinguishing it irom
the trawlers nets. Then the upper and
lower beams, spars of some 30 feet
long, together with a strange-looking
long-limued anchor and many fathoms
of stout rope-caDie, are tanen on
board. This anchor will often have
to hold both net and vessel against
strong tides, wind, and sea; the net
riding to it, mouth to tide, nearly under
the vessel's bottom, by a cable made
fast to the lower beam. This beam is
loaded with iron to steady the mouth
of the net; while the upper beam is
held horizontally in position 60 feet
above it by the "hip ropes,'' which,
made fast to the ends of it,
pass up to either side of the
smack's forward rail. "When open, the
mouth of the net has a gape of some
SWO square feet. It is closed by a rope
starting from the middle of the lower
lip or beam, passing through a ring on
the upper one up to a block upou the
vessel's bowsprit; this rope, when
hauled in, bringing the two beams
together to the surface. Strange to
say, spratters, especially in rough
weather, rather dreaa getting the net
full of lish. This at times occurs very
suddenly; wheu the net floats as long
as there is life in the fish; but must be
at once swept and slung by many ropes
alongside, for should it sink it may be
impossible to raise it again. At sucn
times a full net has often to be out
across in several places to stait the fish
out of it; so enabling the men, by
throwing away some tons of fish, to
save their net and the rest ot the
catch. A net full would weigh out of
water eighty or ninety tons, while the
whole capacity or the stow-Doat u sel
dom much over thirty tons.
A large flint arrow-bead was found
firmly imbedded in the back of a whale
captured off San Diego the other day.
Her MajMt.
Scv.ral Eaglisa Journals tsem to have
been greatly exercised at the curtailment
ot the tneniorWI cervices which have
usually been held In the Frogmore maus
oleum at the anclver.ary of the Prince
Consort's death, and it has I eea stated
that the CJ leeu's henlth Is uneq'i&t to the
fatigue ot a lor.g service, or to "the
mental 81 ram'' Involved by it; and that
some of her children exerted tbeir "in
fluence" over her Majesty to induce her
f modify tbe former arranemen'.g. The
Queen's health Is excel 'eat, and she as
entirely eqnl "13 a mental strain" es (he
ever was in b.-r hfe. As to the txett.ng
of "influence" over her Alje?ty, none of
ber rbiidren have any influence whatever
with ber. Princess Beatrice might very
probably have obtained a great deal ot in
fluence over the Q leen, but she has never
apparently cared to do so, and only exett
heoelf to carry out her wu-tei in quite
tnvial matter?. The people who have
great influence wub the Queen are ber fa
vorite ladies notably tbe xowager
Duchess of Athole, tbe Dowager-Ducbess
of ltoxburghe and Lady Ely.
1 hear that the real reasons why tbe
former elaborate set vice was abandoned
wai that tbe Q ie3 felt that it would not
be tl e same sort of thing, now that tbe
two persons who were principally con.
cerued in tbe affair have passed away.
Oean Wellesley was on very intims'e terms
with Prince Albert for many years, be bad
read the service at his funeral, and had
officiated at the mausoleum regu!a-ly every
year. 1 he present dean of Windsor was a
schoolboy when the prince died. Sir
Ueorue illey, who always arranged and
conducted tbe musical portion ot tie rerv
ice, was constantly employed by Prince
Albert from the time when he iuperin
lended the flrot performance of the prince's
own compositions in the private chapel at
Windsor castle, j ist forty years ago. lie
his lately stereo, his connection with SU
Ueorge's cbapa?, and his successor is a
young man in no way associated with tbe
past .
Vanity Fair announces that 'there la
no kind ot foundation for the report ttat
her Majesty intends to go to Baden this
Spring," and adds that "nothing is at
present settled as to ter Al'j?sty s move -ments,
but it Is not improbable that she
may go abroid, but not to Biden." Two
years ao, when it was announced in
Truth that the Q ieeu would go to the
south of f'rance in the Spring, tbe state
ment was contradicted in some quarters,
but her Majesty went all the same- if tbe
(.resent arrangements are carried out, she
will go t) Darmstadt and Baden early
in April, in spite ot denials. The Q teen's
"movements'' aie necessarily settled long
in aiivai.ee when there is to be any devia
tion frvin tbe ordinary routine of W indsor,
Osborne and Balmoral,
An account which apposed in The An
Ihenaeum ot tbe Q leen's new book is not
wholly correct. .No copies of the work
which is to be published have been given
away to anybody, and it is not like to ap
pear f jr sum tune to come. Tbe book
will coctaln accounts of tha Q leen's visits
to Floors castle, to Dunkeld, and to Loch
11 tree, and will g:ve niuoh information
rewclini; the Balmoral property and its
management. In reality, however, it is to
be a sort of tribute to the memory of John
Brown, of whom there will be more than
one portrait, and a considerable amount of
it will be devoted to a history of his hfe,
and tbe reasons for his gradual nse la
royal Uvor will be explained. A p umber
of particulars relating to the Q leen's hum
ble neighbors around Balmoral will also
be given, and tbe bock will contain nu
merous poitraits of these people and illus
trations depicting the Glaswlt stiiel, the
t'riuco Consorts earn, John Brown's
grave, and other interesting spots ui the
district.
Tbe Q'icea is about to present a portrait
of herself to the National Portrait Gal
lery. 1 understand that it is a copy,
"by an amateur," of tbe portrait of ber
Majesty by Angeli, which hangs in the
private diniu-room at Windsor Castle,
opposite to one of the Duchess of Edin
burgh by the same artist. It has never
been considered to be one of- the best pic
tures of the Q leen, although it has Deen
mucu favored by her Majesty, who took a
great fancy to Angeli's style, and he was
employed by her to paint the picture of
Lord BeaconsQuld which hangs in the cor
ridor at Windsor. 1 hear that "the ama
teur" who h is copied the picture is really
Princess Beatrice.
Soma Uont'i for 1884.
Don't forget lue poor.
Don't go back on your swear off.
Don't steal or lie. In other words,
don't be a bank cashier.
Don't forget that $500 set of dia
monds for your best girl this season,
ion may have to forget tbat $2 wash-bill
you have owed your washerwoman for a
year and a half, but you can put her off
and tbe girl may put you off.
Don't look sour at tbe world or it
will look sour at you. It acts on tbe
looking glass principle, as Tbackeray
says.
Don't insist on a friend's tak'ng a
drink with you when he refuses. If
you insist you may find be has swore
off. Then he will be sure to get a
drink oo you. .
Don't look down on a man or a la
boring man. Who was your father
Who was your grandfather! Who was
your uncle! Who was your great-unclef
Who are you, anyway?
Dont smile when you are sad.- There
is nothing in this style of sentimental
lying, except that 11 looks pretty in
novels where, of sourse, it
never re-
ally exists.
Don t mix in
when some one else is
telling a story, It "breaks a man all up"
to have anotber take words out of his
mouth, and when he tells a story he
likes to tell it himself.
Don't grumble. Of all the friendless.
forsaken, despised, disagreeable people.
the grumbler is the boss. He ought to be
taken out and lathered with a barrel-stave
every time be grumbles. Nobody likes
him. nobody loves him, wnile everybody
is ashamed of him.
Don't Imagine for the shadow-hair lue
of a second tbat you are the smartest man
in town. There are men good-looking
men, too, who know a great deal more
than you ever thought you knew.
Dont forget that to be honest, to lie
manly, to be true, to be temperate and
pleasant, is to be happy and contented;
and there are more ptsrls in a cup of
laughter than in a barrel of tears; more Jiy
:n a good deed than in tbe remorse or a
cross word. The best you can make of
life is to act on the square with yourself
and everybody else.
A French metallurgist is said to pro
duce malleable brass by the following
method : Thirty-three parts of copper
ad twenty-five of zinc are alloved, the
copper boicg first pnt into the crucible,
which is locnely covered : as soon as the
eopi.er is melted, sine, purified by sul
phur is added. The alloy is then cast
into moulding sand, in the shape of
bars, being read for use.
Drnamlt In War.
A long brass tube, with a two-Inch
bore, lav upon the western parapet of
Fort Hamilton recently. Colonel
Hamilton, commander of the fort, an
umbrella, and a reporter stood nearby.
Tbe kmg brass tube was a gun, al
though an ordinary observer might
take it to be a portion of water-pipe
used for draining the parapet.
"This gun,"' continued Colonel
Hamilton, "is twenty-eight feet long
with a two-inch bore. It was invent
ed by a Mr. Mifford, an American, and
is the property of Mr. Windsor, tbe
torpedo builder. We were asked to ex
periment with it here, which we are do
ing, under the direction of .Lieutenant
Zallinski, an expert in projectiles and
harbor defense weapons. We have
been trying it at half-mile range with
good results, notwithstanding that it is
Incomplete as to its manufacture and
mountings, and has by no means real
ized its possibilities.
"The motor is compressed air, with
which it is propnsed to experiment at
000 to 850 pounds pressure. The missile
has been proved to have good power of
penetration and is formidable as a di
rect weapon. But that is not the main
otiject. The weapons are made long
like an arrow and headed with brass
cases intended to be charged with dyn
amite, the explosion of which is to pro
duce the intended effect. As yet we
have not experimented with dymamite,
but have loaded the cases with stud in
order to give them weight. The mis
siles are of light pine wood, made to
fit the bore, are 34, 40, and 46 inches in
length. The brass cases, which
are fitted at tbe head, are 14 and 24
inches long, their diameter being H,
1J and 1 inches. These cases, wheu
charged give wieght and steady the
flight of the missile or arrow. The
openings at the head of the cases are
closed with a wooden plug, through
which a needle penetrates connecting
with a cap. Wheu the projectile strikes
the object tbe dynamite is at once ex
ploded. "As yet very little is known about
condensed gases ai a motor for project
iles, though it has been successfully
utilized as a motive power. The great
problem has been to throw dynamite
shells with safety. The concussion of
gunpowder will immediately explode
dynamite, and the result is the gun is
destroyed, as well as everything in the
neighborhood. With this gun, howev
er, I think that dynamite can be thrown
with perfect safety to the gunner, and
with disastrous effect to the object it
strikes."
The gun when in position is mounted
on a tripod and has the appearance of a
slender telescope. Two small tubes
connect with a receiver, which iu turn
is connected with a twenty-five horse
power steam-engine with a long hose.
The engine and boiler are located in
the fort.
Experiments have been made with
the gun at a half-mile range. The mis
sile penetrated a heavy wooden target,
backed with hard packed earth, twenty
six inches. During the passage it ob
tained a fall of twelve degrees. The
gun, however, is not intended to throw
a projectile as a direct weapon, but as
a carrier for dynamite. So rapid is the
explosion of dynamite that its force is
always downward. Consequently a
dynamite shell exploding on the
side of a vessel would not produce as
disastrous au effect as it would if it
struck on the deck.
This gun is constructed to meet all
the necessary requirements. The pro
jectile, though resembling a base ball
bat, will, when shot from the gun by
an expert marksman, make a graceful
curve in the air, like an arrow and de
scend head downwards upon the deck
of a vessel. With a heavier pressure
it can be si ot as a direct weapon. The
pressure can be regulated at will.
When discharged there is no report.but
the missile leaves the gun with a shrill
whistle which produces as disagreeable
a sensation in one's-ears as a buzz-saw
when it strikes a hard knot. The force
obtained by 2U0 pounds of pressure was
remarkable. At the first discharge the
three quarter-iuck iron bars which sup
port the gun were bent nearly double
by tbe reaction, while the projectile
shot from the bore like a ball from a
heavy gun and penetrated the target
twenty-six uicnes,
"I believe," said Colonel Hamilton.
"that the gun will prove to be an effect
ive weapon tor harbor defense. Lieu
tenant Zallinski is verv enthusiastic
over it and is confident of its success.
As soon as we have favorable weather
we will make experiments ou the
water "
Doing; Good.
Every human being has a mission to
perform. Every man has a part to act in
the world's great drama one of most
unspeakable importance. But how few
are there who come fully np to its
standard and endeavor by divine assist
ance to fuliil it. Man was created for
a noble purpose, endowed with an im
mortal mind and is capable ot perform
ing a good work. Consider how great
may be the influence of a single indi
vidual, either for good or evil. If we
have been influential in reforming one.
a being made in the image of God, but
samy misiea oy tne contaminating in
fluence of vice, we have performed a
I suuli oi.
I There are various ways in whic'
' good may be accomplished, but when
a good resolution is formed the work is
too often begun with a- lack of confi
dence and perseverance, and impatient
to accomplish the undertaking, we de
spair at the first difficulty. This should
not be, but with more faith, the more
distant the day of reward, the harder
we should labor, and not let our arms
become palsied because we do not meet
with immediate and large results of our
labors: but in time or eternity we shall
receive the reward.
Much good maybe done with the
pen, and how much good has been
done in this way. by which the influ
ence of many still live while they have
long since gone to their final resting
place. But we would not have you
vainly ambitious to render your name
immortal, thinking to make a speck in
the world by figuring in the papers, or
assume the importance of a fly that im
agined itself turning the wheel upon
which it was only turned round. But
whatever you do let it be done to the
glory of God, and remember tbat "He
that converteth the sinner from the
error of his way shall save a soul from
death and hide a multitude of sins."
The Lord Mayor's day banquet and
procession in London recently cost
nearly $20,000, the dinner costing about
13,000. Half the bill is paid by the
Lord Mayor and the other half by the
two Sheriffs.
Tho Dog; Plnahers.
"A dog plnober," sai l a Caicso di
tectve, "is a man whoaiakeM a basios
of stealing pet dogs, eitaor a-t a spesn
l ibon of his own or to order. He
tramps around the residence portion of
the city Irom morning hutil night, and
if he sees a valuable dog he iniuc9s it
to follow him away, and tuea hj sells
it. Very often a man about town sees
a fine dog he would like to own, and be
induce some 'pinchor that he knows
to 'Jay for it' and steal it for him. He
tu.nillv has to pay a pretty good pric
for it, "too."
"How do they entiea dogs away from
the r homefe?"1
"That is a secret known ouly to pre
fess'oual dog pinchers.' They rub so jie
stuff on their handa or pants, and wheu
dog gets a snell of it no one cau call
him awy, Whit this stuif is I don't
know, but I think it's oil of anise. You
know all snimaW are. fond of tiiat. If
you don't know it, jait put a httie bit
ot it on some bread in a rat trap and
you'll have the trap fail of rats."
' Do you know any of the Chia.ro
dog pincheror
' No, not now. Suice I have left the
force I have loit all traos of them.
Hangry Dick' used to be thebrtsso!
them all. fie could 'pinoh' a dog when
there wasn't any around. I rem m ber
a very funny thing about D.ck. Poor
fellow is dead now. Some years agi I
had a beautiful Yorkshire bitch given
to ma. She had floe, long, si ky hair,
and was a perfect picture. My talks
were moving at the time, and, as 1 hid
no plaoa to keep her, 1 aaked Dick to
take care of her tor me. He consented,
acd I told him if he lost her or sold her
I wocld kul him.
"Veil, Dick took her, wasbe.1 her
thoroughly, combed out her beautiful
hair, aud she wa a fiue look T, I le 1
you. Dl.'k took her through the street ,
with him, and I guess he was stopped
every block by some one who waited
to buy ber. liu would always say that
she was not for sule, but he would sell
oud or t o of her pups. Almost every
one would jump at this cnance, a ad 1
guets Dick tod a oo at s.xty if her
pup-. Oae day Sus'i Beruhurdt's
ageut who vti here at the tiuae saw
the bitca and ius sted that Madame
Bernhardt see her. Well, Dick took
uer up to the Grand Pacitio, aud Bern
hard; de.Urtd taat fhj must have her.
Dick know that it wae as much as his
ute was wortu to sell her, so he said be
would belt two pups. The mulame
agreed to pay $j0 lor them, aud Dica
went out and feot pooiie and a little
spaniel, for which he received thd $00.
l'iieu he disappeared mystenou-ily, aud
did not turn up until Bjruliarut had
left towu. He told ma he had pUnted
uimself aud the fifty in Bridgeport,
leariu that Bjrnuardt would discover
the Bwiuale and seuJ for nioi."
"What is your secret for making a
dog follow joa off I " asked a r.-poruu
ot one of the "piuchers, ' who lraukly
said:
"1 was brought up among d g aud
I know their peculiarities. My taihjr
was a dog-iaucier, and whea I wm stoi
a tery siuUl bo I was traiued by him
to 'pmcu' dogs. I did most of my
Vinchiiig' through petting and good
feeding. I would worm myself iuto tne
good grases ol a dog bygivmg turn little
Dits ot meat and cheeott on the ly, aud
when he begin to expect it aa a reoUi
thing I would go to nun aud then walk
away. Of course he would follow mi,
expecting to get his Usul portion, aud
wheu 1 had him some way from his
home 1 would tuke him in my arms, or
chain him. aud make otf w.to him."
'But don't the 'pinchers' have some
secret mean cf iuducmj dot to follow
them?"
"Yes, they nse oil of anis; so jb -times.
They rub it ou their havids and on thoj
pants, ana then they pat a dog and al
io him to smoll it Tue dog nkes the
smell, and he follows it away; but 1
toink the feeding anJp.tiiux is t ie best
plan, though it is Lot as rapid aud
aa the other."
"Do tuey sell the dogs at once, or
hold them lo: reward?'
"Ueuerally they hold them for a few
days, utit.l searcu is giVju up by the
owuvra. then they sell them in hotels
of saloons. They dou't Oder the in fur
mUo, but wait tor au oner, aud aa tliev
always pmou' good dogs t ie offer is not
long in coming. Sometimes a lap-dog
or a pet is stolen just for the reward.
Actors and actresses will Uivmia oly offer
large rewards ior lost dos. auu it pays
to 'pinch their annuals.
Taa Declaration of Indo pndnoo.
Few people know that the original
Declaration of Independence is kept in
the library of the Slate Department.
It is m a cherry case and under glass.
But tbedoors are thrown open all day
long aud strong rays of light are eating
up its ink day by day. The Constitu
tion is written on parchment. Tho
text of it is in a hand as fine as copper
plate and the ink of this part can still
be plainly read. The signatures, how
ever, are written in a dinereut ink,
aud they are very fast disappearim;
uuder the action of the light. Tne bold
signature of John A. Hancock is faded
almost entirely out. Ouly a J. o, h
and an 11 remain. Two hues of names
are entirely removed from the paper;
not a vestige of ink remains to show
tbat names were ever there. Ben
Franklin's name is gone. Koger Sher
man's name is fast fading, I could not
find the name of Thomas Jefferson, and
Elbridge Gerry has lost its last sylable.
Robert Carroll and John Adams have
been scoured off by the light, and only
eleven names out of the titty odd cau be
read without a microscope. J ust below
the constitution lies the original of it in
Jefferson'dhandwriting. It is on fools
cap paper, yellow with age, and worn
through where the manuscript has been
folded. The writing is fiue and close,
and the whole Constitution occupies
but two pages. The ink is good, and it
remains as fresh as when it left the
quill of Jefferson over 100 years ago.
it is full ot erasures and interlinatious,
some of which are in Franklin's hand
writing and others in the strong script
of John Adams.'
It seems that the idea of constructing
the Joag-tnonght-cf canal wich is to
connect the Baltic and the .North Sea
has at length assumed definite shape.
Bismarck has reconsidered his former
objections, aud a bill lor powers neces
sary to execute the works will be laid
before the R-ichsiag during the coming
season. The cost of making the cut
ting through Holstein is estimated st
between $30,000,000 and $35,000,000.
Htalne-t rinrrs.
The pracjtice of staining boarded
floors a darker shade than the original
color of the wood, or to imitate some
more costly timber than deal or pine, is
now so universal that it may seem an
insult to common sense and ordinary
intelligence to offer any suggestions up
on the subject. The mistaKe of sending
coals to Newcastle, ot gUlding lilies,
and performing works of supererogation
generally, is frevuently alluded to in
polite society; but with respect to floor
staining there are several modes, some
good, some bad, some indifferent, and
they all vary considerably in cost. So
long as oak stain was the only one which,
society desired to see upo'i its boards,
there was little choice of materials.
Manufacturers advertised certain mix
tures at so much per quart, and the
householder purchased, only so far di
luting the stain with water as to impart
a lighter or a darker shade to the wood.
Advancing on these lines, the next
stase was the production of stains al
ready graduated in tone, and selection
coiil 1 be made of either Xo. 1,2, 3 or 4.
according to taste. But as the high art
drawing-room became the great ob ect
ot so. many women's lives and labors,
and the search after knowledge sent
them running to and fro upon the earth,
trade secrets leaked out, and as new
fashions developed themselves ia dwelling-houses,
new resources were discov
ered to compass the ends denirei
The dark oak floor is no longer d
rvj'Mur, for light polished floors are very
much more preferred just at present.
Much deemls upon the condition of the
boards if they are smooth, close in
grain, and affording a line surface to
receive the future polish. If the floor
ba an old one which cannot lie planed
smooth, time, temper aud trouble are
wasted in trying to give a satin wood
or pitch pine look to it. It is better to
a;c -pt the inevitable, aud go in fordaik
oak or dark mahogany.
Some stains can be rubbed in with a
sponge or cloth; others, in which hurt
ful components are introduced, must be
applied with a brush. Pour the stain-
lug liquid into a saucer, dip into it the
brush or cloth, saturate thoroughly rub
tVjnly over the wood and instantly dry
off the stained surface with a handful
of rags or other soft waste. To insure
su 'C ss this work must be done quickly.
and, it is almost needless to add, even
ly.
Taking the fashionable floor of the
present day first, which is of a pale sha le
of oak, sized aud varnished, it caa be pro
duced with aienua. a powder bought at
the paint shops, and mixed with water.
The first experience of a raw-sienna
statu is calculated to strike horror
to the breast of the mistress of the
house, the result is so bright and so
painfully, stariu ly yellow. But sizing
tones down the strong color surprising
ly, and the polish brugs il to ultimate
perfection.
Should mahogany staining be desired
a mixture is requisite. The following
isa cheap and simple one: Half a pound
of madder, two ounces of logwood chips
boded in a g;:llon of water, brush over
the wood while hot. When dry go over
the whole with peirlasli solution two
drachms to a quait of water. Size the
polish. If a redder shade is reiuired it
can be produced by smearing the surface
with a strong solution of permanganate
of potasi, which is left ou for a longer
or sh -trier time, according to the shade
required; in most cases live minutes
will be enough. The wood is then care
fully washed, dried and polished in the
oruiuary way.
Clutching aa icvCske.
A thrilling story comjs frora Xia?.ira
Falls about the narrow escape which
two men namel Tim Horn aud Peter
Scanlon, who were thrown into the rap
ids near Tugby's baztar, recently,
had from going over Niagara
Falls. Had it not been for a cake
of ice they would hav9 been
carried over the American Fall. Mr.
C. Crawford, who w, an eyewitness
of the occurrence and helped to rescue
the men,told the iollowing to a reporter:
Horn and Sixinlon, wiio are in the
employ of Hill & Murray, were working
on the upper race, where CVawford, who
was also engaged i. trying to raise the
ice blockade, calle 1 for them to assist
in removing some p'.anksover the apron
at the foot of the race. Before attempt
ing to remove the planks, Crawford in
formed the men of tbe peculiarity of
the work and the care necessary to be
taken to avoid being thrown into the
race. By some mishap the men lost
their footing and were thrown out into
the race,a few feet from the apron. In
an instant they were carried out into
the rapids just above Goat island
bridge. Crawford at once crossed the
race and started toward the brink of
the fall with but very little hope of be
ing able to render any assistance to his
comrades. Near where th3 two men
entered the rapids is a large cake of ice
between which and the shore isa narrow
channel, through which they must have
passed, for bad they gone on the out
side they would have been carried out
toward the middle of the river. A few
feet below the bridge was another cake
of ice about eight feet square, fastened
to a rock against which they were
hurled.
Whether the men realized their condi
tion suilijiently to help themselves or
were at first kept there by the force t
the current it is doubtful if they caa
tell, but here they were found with
their arms on the ice when Crawford
reached the bank opposite them. He
ive the alarm at II ill & Murray's pulp
mill, and quickly a large fore 9 of men
were on the bridge to rescue the unfor
tunate men on the ice. Ropes were
let down which floatei to them, and al
though thoroughly chilled they had
still suflk-ient strength to secure them
around their bodiessoasto allow them
selves to be drawn up to a cake of ic9
attached to the first pier of the bridge.
After reaching thu point a man named
J. Buss went down a rope to the ice
and secured other ropes around Horn
and scanlon.by which they were drawn
up and once more placed ou terra tirma.
The men were rescued something like
1 JO feet from where they fell in.and were
in the water upward of alf au hour.
After being taken out they were placed
in a sleigh and conveyed home.
Tie electric light bitu fair to be the
light of the immediate future in Eagliah
country houses, according to the Lon
don World. Lord Salisbury, who it
of an experimental and scientific- turn
of mind, was the first to use it in a
country housa. That was four or five
years ago. - Then the Duke ot Suther
land followed the example at Treutham,
ud now Lord Tuurlow is lighting
Du phail House by electricity.
U