?(5) ill fl giitiiiii B. F. SCHWEIER, TEE OOIBTITirnOI THE UIIOI AID TEE EUOSOHMEflT OF TEE LAVS. Editor and Proprietor. VOL. XXXVIII. MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY. TENNA.. WEDNESDAY. JUNE 25, 1SS4. NO. 26. TIICOI D, OI.II SrOKt. H.. Well at first he carae "l Wellt As others Iil: h tlktl tn each in turn ; U: uiiul on fanning sudilmily was bent desirous erery way to learn; Hr t.M tli ''' of every fond intent, Talkel with the mother of her patent churn The flattered father felt himself more wis. Such growing interest lit tha stranger' eye. Ami then, somehow, he always soerue.1 to tind A vacant seat by Lucy; and he took XuhoWinc skeins for her small bauds to wind. Sometimes we caught a shv, admiring l.n.fe In his hroti n eyes, a gesture more tl.an kind (if his strong haniL (hie day we found a l.k, Gi!t-e!'l and nice, among our Lucy's things A new .d land out-shon her other rings. An.l s-n be lingered by the porch at eight, r- .r -eM'ul of tlie summer dews that fell, WhiW.'iiT. with her blu eyes all alight. Would friii her weary father from the well A cl:nu lucht: and then as if by right. He j tend her there, there seemed so inn, h to tell (r matters little to my rhymes li-r p.teli. r ovnlloweil a dozen times. S.'ti.it'L's went on, utitil the mother found 1 1:. t I- " '. who was micIi a careful child, H.,i it-rc- "orjotten, in her dai.y round. In k ui the rail, and like a tangled w ild Cr-- rveiy d.iy her bit of jj.mteu cround. Where ""nee the roes aud carnations smiled. It was the tii.t. Old Story, and you kuow That natuht but marriage out of that can j;row. Tin: laii:i"s rno.MisE. n a sechi Ted parish in the Highlands of Sotl.md there stood, and still stands, a clunky substantially-built edifice which the country people around call the Mansion House of Koehard. It is si iiated at the head of a long valley running down from the mountains, and is surrounded by large plantations of rir. whrh, if they afford shelter, impart alM to the adjacent landscajie an air of uahroken solitude and melancholy g!,HMii Half a life-time kick, when the wild lita'.hs around this lonely house were all aglow with beauty, its then master, a widower with one child, a bviy. brought to it a new mistress whom he "had found at the. quiet hearth of an adjacei.t manse. The new bride had few personal charms ; she was a little liale, nieek. brown-eyed woman, in all respects a contrast to her predecessor, who. 111 her magnificent leauty, looked down upm the new-comer out of the loiigiiif sof family irtraits that adorned the T.a'Js of the dining-room at Koch ard. Tall, fair, red-lipped, with fhe clear Jieauiy of an auburn blonde, with full blue eyes, keen, haughty, and over flowing with scornful light, the first Mrs. U.R liard seemed to meet the sec ond w ith a smile of defiance, as she shrink ingly entered her husband's din ingrooui for the first time, and walked with some secret misgiving and fear to what had been the dead woman's place at the head of the table. "And vet, sure,'" thought the little meek woman whom the death of her father had left alone in the world. mean t j do her no wrong ; I will love the Laud as much as he will let me,and I would so love oh, so dearly love to be a real, true mother to her boy 1" "it was surely because she had so few to love all her life," the neighbors said, ''that she seemed to make so much at all times of tiie Laird's stupid boy, William liochard was an ungainly boy, sell -contained and reticent, slow to receive impressions, and still slower to forget them. He had been been dis pleased by his father's second marriage, and, after his own fashion, he resented it. He was not cross to his step-nio- ther, but he would not I friends with her; he was not disiispectful to her. but tie would not call her "mamma. or "mother," or "Mrs. liochard" even; he would si?ak of her only as "papa's wne." Nimetimes the Laird, who grew to iove liis gentle Mary passing well would get angry at the boy's obstinacy. aim tie on the point ol punishing him but Mrs. liochard always interposed. So the more gloomy and sullen her step son was the more she redoubled her sweet teudernesF. her gracious cares. hoping, praying, eagerly watching for some sign of softening in bis obdurate ceait. Matters were in this state when the Laird went out one day, hale and well, to superintend the blasting of a piece ot rock in the quarry, and was brought nacK, scarcely an hour afterwards, t mangled bleeding corpse. It was a ter rible home-coming for the poor wife who lived only in his stnile and indeed she seemed stunned by the blow. She dad not rry, to the great wonder of the sympathetic servants, but sat holding the dead man's hand in her owm, and looking iuto his face without ever shed ding a tear. Her demeanor wasequally caini wuen the friends and neighbors cuie 10 bury mm. fche uttered no shriek ; she only went to the window and watched as long as she could the long bla?k-robed train winding away uown me valley between the pines, she was still there when her step-son came back, and in his isolation and misery crept close to her and called her "mo ther." At that dear name her unnat ural stillness broke down, and she burst into such a passion of tears that me lad was dismayed ; but she bade him let her cry on. for every tear she shed eased her poor brain, which seemed as if it w ere girdled round by a bajii of iron. Then came days of weakness and Pain, in which the sullen boy was. after his silent fashion, always trvine to serve her. Just as often as otherwise, nis attempts at kindness ended in some trouble or inconvenience to her; but she never seemed to see that or to be conscious of anything but the kindly motive. Weary, heart-broken as she as,she had always a sad smile for n't". .She had won "his heart.it seemed. last, but, oh. at what a price 1 Thus the heavy weeks went on until her enly child was born. After that she seemed to rally a little, her eyes brightened,and faint tiniie of color came into her Weeks at the sight of her baby-boy ; and, as the held him in her arms, and elt the new strange bliss of motherhood thrilling through every vein, she could nave wished so to enfold him for ever, us to shield him from all the world's 100 surely coining misery and care. Alas, p or mother, that joy, so exqui site, was of short duration ! She was -VuiS, and dying quickly too, for the ay after her baby was born she began J sink. All that it was possible to do wr her they did, with the sad convic uun that it was in vain. Then a wild terrible anxiety began to take possess n of her. Who would care for her Juv when she was gone who ? And, wua a mute apral in her sad eyes, she iuruea 10 ner step-son, or late so strangely kind. He was beside lier bed, gloomy-looknig as usual, but with his heart all aflame with a newly-found re!entance and love. "Mother," he said, reading and an swering her unspoken thoughts, "do not fieU I call Heaven to witness le tween us that I will be father and mo ther too to the little hid." Half an hour later she was dead ; but, although there was no portrait of her in the great diuiug-room, there was no Tear of any one at Itocliard forget ting her. least of all the new Laird. The haif-educated, silent, but not un intelligent youth had stepped at once into his father's place, and, if he did not seem likely to increase the fortune his father had left him, it wasat least as improbable that he would diminish it. He had nei'her the foibles nor faults of youth, but he had still fewer of its ami able qualities. To the world at large he seemed little better than a rugged boor, but to the little infant, in its mo therless helplessness at Rochard, he was tenderly almost femininely kind. All that was deepest in his still, repressed nature gush d forth to meet the bahv coomgs of his infant brother, who stretched out his little fat arms lov ingly, ana clung to him in nndonbtiug trust. It was a pretty sight, because few would have dreamt of finding such softness there ; it was like a rill of wa ter trickling down the desert sand, and making an Eden out of a Sahara. As years went on, the love of the elder for the younger bro her seemed to increase, and to take ever as it deeiened a more parental character. 1 o have ad vauced Frank's interests, he would, if he could, have shed his very heart's blood. Imperfectly educated himself, he spared no expeuse that his brother miht have whatever advantage the best of schools and a college curriculum could afford. It was no doubt his na ture to save, but Frank gave him an ohject for which to hoard ; and he rose early and sat up late, and denied him self in all things that this adored, idol ized brother might one day be riclu As might have been expected, all this in dulgence was not good for Frank lioch ard. It did not perhaps spoil him com pletely, but it made him very wilf ul,and not a little selfish and wayward. He was not ungrateful to his brother, but the habit of being deferred to in all things had made him forward and self conceited ; and, when he got to be a pert smart schoolboy, aud then a vain self-sufficient student, he fell into the fashion of the world, and thought slight ingly, as it did, of the loutish ungainly Lair 1 of Hochard. In due time an ensign's commission was bought for him, aud in quick suc cession he became by purchase first a Lieutenant aud theu a Captain. In the long vears that had passed since ill lam liochard sat by his step-J mother s dying bed, he had become rich, and to Frank happy was now, as then the sole object of his lif. Shortly after Frank Hochard had become a Captain, it was necessary for William to go to Edinburgh on business, aud, while there, he lived in the house of nis agent, a shrewd, keen, somewhat worldly man of the law. This gentleman had a daughter, a blooming girl in her "teens," who seemed to the awkward country gentle man a creature almost too ravishingly beautiful for earth. William liochard was not fitted to shine as a wooer ; but the proverbially rough course of true love was made very smooth for him by Mr. Grey, and, after a few tears and poutings, pretty Cecil was won over to her father's way of thinking, and the strangely -assorted pair were engaged. All this time the Laird had not drop ped a hint of his intentions to his "bov as he was accustomed to call his younger brother. The truth was that, about the time of his first visit to Ediuburgt Frank had wounded him deeply. A distant relative of his mother had left him a small property on the condition that he would take her name of Campbell which he not only did with much alacrity, but discarded alto 'ether his family patronymic of liochard, "just as if," thought the indignant Laird, "he were ashamed of it and me ;" in which latter coujectuie he was perhaps not far wrong. Therefore, he was, for the first time in his life, not open with his younger brother. He wrote to him seldom, and his letters were short and constrained Frank's regiment was expected soon at Edinburgh Castle, and, after he came there, it would be time enough to tell him of his intentions and introduce him to bis darling Cecil. In due time Frank came to Edin burgh ; and William, in the one or two visits he paid his betrothed, saw him for a short time, and on each occasion found it imios3ible to break to him his astoun ling news. Sometimes he thought there must be something very ridicu lous indeed in his intended marriage that he could not speak of it to his boy." As for any disadvantage ac cruing to frank from this suujen change in the plans of his life that should not be ; he bad been so thrifty and careful that he had saved a large sum of money, which he resolved to ex pend in purchasing an estate lor his brother as good at least as Uociiaro. Vith regard to him nis conscience was clear, else he could not have btten so happy. And he was happy with a trembling, fearful happiness tliat was nearly akin to pain. This love which had come so late wan inexpressibly sweet to the silent, undemonstrative middle-aged man sweet,although ruin gled with many Secret misgivings and doubts. "She is too goofi for me," he con stantly repeated to himself "she can not love me, surely I What commun ion can there be between my battered middle age and her glorious youth. ?" And yet. if Cecil did not love him, she had the art to appear to do so. The bright blushing face, the conscious eye, the earnest candid brow on which truth seemed to sit, bad each and all the same inexpressibly charming tale for him. He could have staked his life upon her truth. He carried bliss away with him in the slightest pressure of her hand, and discovered volumes of meaning in her every word and look. One thing only disquieted him she would fix no time for their mania je. At hist he re solved to go to Edinburgh on purpose to urge her to do so. but he laueu in an his arguments. Marry him at once she would not ; but perhaps m ine spring she might. With this hope he was fain to be content, and bade her good-bye. with the intention, as he toia ner, oi going back to uocnara lmmeuiaieiy. when, by an unexpected piece oi dusi- ness, he was detained beyond the time when the coach left a detention wuicu he regretted the less because on the morrow he would have Frank's com pany home wards, the young officer 'lay ing agreed to spend Christmas In his early norne. It was getting late before his business was despatched ; but he cared the less tor that as Cecil, he knew, had an en gasrement. He could not see her, but ue mignt at least pass ner father's house, and look up to her windows. Nothing imuoweu uy iove ana ner coma be n dinerent to him. crossing to the other side of the square, he walked slowly away under the tall shadow of the trees in the rar- dens, blessing Cecil from the depths of his own true fervent nature, when, as ue was iassing unuer tlie last elm, he suuueiuy paused. w hat was that beneath Its spreading boughs ? A sight often enough to be seen all the world over only a pair of lovers so absorbed in each other that thev never noticed him at all nothing surelv to make his heart stand still with such a choking sense of suffocation ? If the pair iietore him had been only a simple scotch lassie and Lid, he would have passed by them with a muttered bless ing ; but there was something strangely familiar in the man's fine athletic form and in the woman's supple undulating grace of figure. In spite of himself. lie stood still, lascinated, half mistrust ing his own senses, and looked at them, They were talking eagerly in low- tones, and once the girl's lover held her close to him aud kissed her several times unresisted. He t ok a step nearer to them then, and strained his eyes in the uncertain light. He would "fain have disbelieved their evidence if he could but there was no delusion, no mistake they were servmg him as truly as they had ever done, it was Cecil who stood before liim, his trusted, idolized, pretty Cecil ; and the man beside her was the boy he had reared, for whom he bad de nied himself many things, his half-bro- uier r rank I For a moment the foul treachery and ingratitude of the thing stunned him. He cou d not move : he leaned luck against the wall dizzy, bewildered,heart sick. Then there was a rustle of silk, aud something swept last him quickly. He looked up, aud there she was, still unconscious ot his presence, gliding way towards her father's door with her rapid noiseless step. Whither her companion went he did not notice ; he had eyes only for her, feeling as he watched her disappear that he would never see her again. When the door closed, and his mute farewell was taken he was conscious of a sharp paiD, as of a knife running into his breast, succeed ed bv a strange benumbed feeling, as i the blood wtiicn bad lately been throb bing so fiercely rouud his heart were freezing into ice in his veins. An hour passed, aud found him still leaning there, not fuming in angry in dignation over the treacherous wron; that had been done him, but taking to it very quietly aud naturally, as if, af ter all. it were just what might have been exiected. Why should he, in the sere and vellow leaf of life s autumn, exiect to pluck the flowers of its spring? l outh hail only viudicited its rights, It was a good joke, a laughable little comedy m real hie ; but it broke all the same a tender simple heart. Shrinking, isolated from his yout upwards, he had no pride to fall back upon to salve his bleeding wound. Alone in the world now that r rauk had proved untrue to him, he had no human sympathy on which to lean. He had felt happier, prouder, since he knew Cecil loved him than he had ever felt before ; and no that love was gone, crumbled into ashes, and nothing remained to him but tlie shreds aud tatters of his shattered happiness. At last a cab rattling past in the street aroused him, and, mechanically w rapping his plaid closer around him, he turned aud went home to his lodg ings, feeling so weak, so ill, so old, that ie seemed to himself te have lived twenty years in that bitter hour. In the long sleepless night that fol lowed his resolution was taken. "Fool that I liave been," he muttered. "to think that my money or lands could buy me a young heart ! lie shall still be happy, though, if her fickle love can make him so : lie shall never even know that he has come between me and all that makes life sweet or dear." In the simple honesty of his heart, while still happy in Cecil s love, he had planned a surprise for his brother, which should at once atone to Frank for the loss of liochard and set him straight with his own conscience. He had bought for him the adjacent prop erty of Kinsuart, and he had intended to present him with the title-deeds of nis new estate cn this proposed Christ mas visit of the young soldierto liochard. He had intended also at the same time 1 1 break to him the news of his ap proaching Marriage, Xow it seemed to him that what he bad to do was to smooth away the obstacles to Frank's. "Poor Frank I" he thought. "He is a careless creature. He is not extrava gant, but he sends a great deal some how. He will never become independ ent of me in that respect at least ; and it will comfort me to know that I shall still be necessary to him, even in his happiness. And she I can almost for give her her treachery when I think that she will make it all up to my boy." This resolution William liochard kept, supreme as was the effort which it cost him ; but with all his mastery over himself he could not be quite tlie same to Frank. He was silent and con strained during their journey to the North ; and the younger brother, who was guiltless of all intentional offence towards him, and who did not even know that the pretty coquette with whom he flirted was engaged to any one, noticed the dinerence, and, in bis pettish wav.resented it. llliam seemed to him more stupid and dull than usual; and, after one or two attempts at con versation, lie left him to his uumor,and did not once sieak to him, as he re membered afterwards with a sore heart, until they had left the coach and were trudging t igether over the moors to wards liochard Tlie day had been intensely cold, and the evening closed in thick and misty around the travelers as they turned into the moorland road, every foot of which they knew as well as the familiar gar den at liochard. For some time they traveled on, as they had previously done, in silence, walking quickly, but not so quickly as to escape me garnering uigni. which was upon them before they were aware. Witu it came snow, railing thickly, pitilessly, bliudingly, as if in tent on burying all things alive or dead beneath its icy shroud. Then Frank became confused, uncertain, positive only of one thtng,th.U they had some how missed the road, and were walking on as fast as they could to certain de struction. He seized his brother's arm and shook It almost fiercely. WilL Will," he cried, in his excite ment, "cannot you wake np f Is this a time for dreaming? We have taker the wrong road I" "I think not," said the elder brother slowly; "but " "This Is not a time for 'buts' I I tell you we are wrong. If you care nothing for your own life and I don't think you do mine is precious,! can tell you to others beside myself." "1 know it," said the elder man hum bly ; "so do you lead, Frank." Frank waited for no more, but set off with tong strides through the ever-accu mulating snow, which, filling the air with a soft hurtling sound, seemed to hem them in closer and closer with a worse than Egyptian darkness. Then the ground beneath them grew all of a sudden boggy ana soft; and, with despairing cry, Frank threw up his arms over his head and sank down ut terly exhausted. Quick and ardent in all things.he had not uie endurance, either mental or physical, of his elder brother. If there was something of the sweetness, there was also something of the weakness of bis mother in him ; and he showed it now by breaking down eutirely.by turns reproaching himself and upbraiding his Drotner lor yielding to him, and then weeping like a ctiild. "We must move we must walk for bare life!" said the Laird. "Come, Frank 1" Dreary, dreary work It was ; the slow fatiguing motion scarcely kept them from freezing, aud the bitter wind .driv ing right into their faces, seemed to bite into their very bones, till every nerve ana smew apiieared to start and swell and then contract into rigid numb ness. "I am one lump of ice," at last groaned Frank, "and so tired,so sleepy. v unam, I can go no farther ; I must lie down and sleep, if it is only for a minute." "Keep up, Frank, for the sake of dear life, only a few minutes longer. We are on the road again, I kuow 1 am sure of it Keep up for Cecil's sake." "For Cecil's sake ?" said the younger brother drowsily. "Pretty Cecil I Who told you aliout her. Will V Nay, don't bother it's not a bit or use. I must and will sleep, but only for Sve minutes. I must," he went on, in a dogged, reso lute tone. "At least wrap my plaid round von." said the elder brother, recognizing the nope.essness or struggling any longer with the obstinacy induced by suffer ing. "I am too tired," rejoined the young er, in a drowsy lethargic tone "onlv let me sleep Five miuutes will make a new man of me. Put the plaid closer round nie. Ah, that is so nice ! After all. Will, there is no place for comfort like home." Alreadv half asleep, he was dreaming that he was in their common room at Rnchard. while the Laird, bending over him with all a mother s care, wrapped him tenderly in the plaid and great-coat of which he denuded himself. I promised her, long ago, to take care or you, dear lad," he muttered. "and I will to the last : and Cecit too she will one day bless me for this. And now good-bye, my own boy !" and he lightly kissed the sleeper's brow, who moved uneasily at the touch of his lips. "Whv won't you let me sleep. Will ? It is unkind of vou I ' he murmured. To this petulant appeal the Laird made no reply. He knew now where he was ; and his whole soul, every fac ulty or his being, was absorbed in one supreme desire to reach, if possible, a cottage occupied by an nnder-game- keeper of hisown, winch lay, lie thought, in an adjacent hollow. It wxs but a little way off, and, warmly covered as Frank w as, be could reach it, he thought, in time to save his life. He had gone only a very short way Indeed when he was overpowered by sensation of extreme fatigue, and theu the fatal, deadly, irresistible sleep be gan to steal over him, struggle as he would. He felt that he had no time to lose, and, almost despairingly, he began to shout wildly. Terrible anguish-laden shouts they were, which reverberated through the snow-filled air : but there was no answer save the pitiless mock ing echo, and, thinly clothed as he was, he was dying fast. Gathering up all his strength, he uttered one long last walling cry of distress. It was answered, but he did not know it. or at least it could only be con jectured that he did by the sweet bright smile that rested on his dead lips when he was found on the hillside the next morning. Help was coming ; but it came, not to nim. Due to t rank, w ho was found asleep, but still alive, under the pile of clothes beside tlie clump of whin. A few minutes more, and the rescuers would have been too late even for him. As it was, they had much ado in restoring him to life ; and, when they succeeded at la$t, the first question he asked was "V here is V ill r" No one had seen the Laird, no one knew where he was ; and, although the search was immediately resumed and continued all night, it was not until the next morning that he was found, cold and stiff, with his smiliug face upturn ed to the chill gray sky. As for Frank liochard, he recovered altogether from his terrible exposure ; but, as if the mantle ot nis dying bro ther's self-denying, self-respecting spirit had fallen upon him, he became from that memorable night an altered man. The luxurious self-indulgent life that he had led had no longer any charms for him, nor had indeed the pretty Ce cil either. "I am William Kochard's brother," was all the explanation he made to her with resjtect to his altered manner. The stlf-convlcted coquette felt that it was enough, and made no effort to win him back : but she regretted him often and bitterly when, glancing over the Indian news, she read from time to time of brilliant deeds achieved and military honors won by the man she had betrayed into seeming ingratitude to his best friend. Colonel II chard Campbell has never married ; and pretty Cecil, who has been twice a widow, has somehow con trived to induce her own immediate circle of friends to believe that tins strange celibacy is owing to an early cruelty on her part. Mingling in the same society, they meet sometimes; and her friends are fond of alleging behind her back, of course that Cecil has tried very hard indeed to atone for what she represents as that fatal early "No." In vain ; the Colonel never sees her without seeming to see also the calm dead face of bis elder brother, as it lay on the moor on that snowy morning, smiling up into the bitter sky, and the past. over which she would fain trip again so lightly, becomes a shuddering impossi bility to him. Never dispute with a woman. MjtrriM of lrlnc A Royal lady able to marry the man of her choice is, except In isolated and accidental cases, almost a feature of modern times. The Princess of ancient and mediaeval times was, as she still is in uncivilized countries, a species of State victim, who might be seized and immolated at any moment on the altar f emergency. She was a useful chat tel, whom Royal fathers and brothers disosed of as might seem best snited to their own interests. The magnitude of these latter has given an extraordinary importance to the history of Royal mar riages. The fate of nations hai again and again been made or modified or marred by their occurrence. The union of the French and Christian Princess Rortha with Ethelbert King of Kent probably did more than any other sin gle circumstance to fiicilitate the intro duction of Christianity into these is lands. There can be no doubt that the strong feelings of Queen Henrietta Maria for her own Church contributed in no small degree to the misfortunes of Charles I. Unless Mary of Burgun dy and Joanna of Castile had linked their splendid fortunes with the destin ies of the House of Hapshurg, the face of Europe would in all probability have been completely changed. Henry VII. is constantly referred to as a master of "kingcraft," and he certainly displayed it nowhere so conspicuously as in the matrimonial disiosition of his family. The Priuce of Wales was united to his brother's elderly widow simply because she was an Infanta of Spain with a large and paid-up dowry. The Princess Margaret was conveniently disixised of to the King of Scotland, and the voung Princess Mary, who might fairlv have hojied to escaie owing to her father's death, was contracted by her brother to the ag.-d aud moribund King of Fiance. The consequences in all three cases were perfectly natural. The Princesses both survived their kingly spouses, and gratified themselves by marrying noblemen or their own choos ing. Henry himself embarked on that strange course of matrimoui.il dissipa tion, which was the scandal of hi3 own and has been the wonder or all succeed ing ages. Mary of Scotland was of course one of the greatest prizes ever offered in the marriage market. The English made war to obtain her hand for their Priuce. The French procur ed it merelv owinz tj the anirer thus inspired. The unhappy list of her sub sequent suitors, and their varied but always violent ends, scarcely needs to oe recapitulated. Perhaps the most magnificent fortune which in modern times has resulted from a Royal mar riage was that which befell the House of Hauover. Little did the Elector of Hanover think when he took the Prin cess Sophia from the modest German Court of her father that she brought w-itn her the crowns or three kingdoms. Vet so it was, and the present Sovereign of England wears them as her direct successor. Sou;; ft. It Is said that songs are the index of society iuey leua.mosi, as mucu a?; b.ioUs. Those of tender sentiment and melody have now the run. Emmett's songs are popular, such as 'Sweet Vio- lpts' and 'Lullaby;' and so are Frank Howard's 'Only a Pansy Blossom' anil 'When the Robins Nest Again.' A Warrior Bold ' by the same author as 'Flee as a Bird to The Mountain' and 'Nancy Lee,' is having a run. 'For ever and Forever,' by Tosti, one of the most popular of comiiosers, keeiis going the rouuds, and his 'Dream of Love,' which was introduced into The Beggar Student' by Miss Jansen. Is lieing much sung. Pinsuti's 'I fear No Foe' is pop ular, especially for Baritones, and his old song, 'I Iove My lAve' keeis going somehow. 'Bride Bells' is the best of lioeckel's aud the prolific Berthold Tours h:is turned out many new ones. 'Angels at the W indow,' 'Because of Thee,' of his old ones, aud 'The New Kingdom ' one or his latest, are the best. Mr. Welling's 'Dreaming' prom ises to be as Kipular as 'Some Day.' Sir Arthur Sullivan has several, as for instance, 'My Dearest Heart,' 'Birds in the Night,' Iet Me Dream Again' aud 'Looking Back,' which have be come iivals of 'The Lost Chord' and 'Once Again. Almost as many ask now for Gounod's 'Adore and be Still' as used to ask for fits 'Ave .Maria.' There is also a popular new song of his. 'The Worker,' and there are few songs now more widely sung than There is a Green Hill Far Away.' Edward Las sen's 'Thine Eve so Blue and Tender' and 'Ah, 'Tis a" Dream;' C. A. White's 'When the Leaves liegiu to 1 urn;' J. W. Bischoff s Take Me, Jamie, Dear,' 'Supposing,' 'What Shall I Do?' and My Love's a Rover,' sun? by Annie 1 ix ley, are among the recent and tak ing songs of the day. Molloy's 'King's Highway' is his greatest success, aud among our Philadelphia composers there are two songs, 'Oh, fay, .My Love,' and The Wair,' by Mr. Hawley, which compare well m every way with those of English writers who are considered the best. But really good new songs are as scarce as other first-class produc tions." Vhe I'eeajr of Manners. With the departure of the stately graces and formal politeness of the old school from society, weut several social arts which have hardly been replaced by any modern accomplishments. To urn a compliment neatly, to hand a ady to her carriage, or assist her to mount her horse gracefully, to tell a good story, or to read well a poem to a room full of cultivated listeners, are among the arts not lost, perhaps, but certainly mislaid in these piping, active times of ours. It was considered essential in our grandfathers' days that the young men should be taught these graceful noth ings and arts of a polite education, the education of a gentleman; and those of us who have had the good fortune to kuow a survivor of that well-bred gen eration have been charmed, perhaps, with that ease of manner, and courte ous consideration for the feelings of others, which are as rare now as a rich family heirloom or real antiques. To rise a step higher, the art of conversa tion, how uncommon it is! How few men, even of abundant leisure, care to cultivate the talents required to make a good talker; to refine the voice and tlie manner of using it; to read dis criminately; to polish the stock in trade of language, and add to it with taste and care. Verily the telegraph and telephone are making of us mere auto mata, which jerk out certain syllables and infinitum, the secret of their mo tion consisting simply in winding them np periodically. ' " Brazil's navy consists of 30C0 men and SO vessels. 1 "Bloooy Kill, tha Tarror." "Wlioop-la, whoop!" thundered a hairy, herculean, heavily-armed terror of terrible fellows, as he kicked open the rickety door of the "Frontier Saloon." and glanced threateningly upon the quiet crowd within. With a defiant swagger, and many horrible oaths, he advanced to the bar and said: "How's biz ter-day. Toddyman?" "Hull, Bill, dull. Can't yer he'p me out?" "Of co'se I can an' will," answered the terror. Turning, he called out to the loafers scattered about the room: "Come up hyer, come up, yer d coyotesl an' treat yo'se'fs, an' me too, at yo' own expense. That's right," he continued, as the ten or twelve persons addressed sprang nimbly from their keg perches and smilingly expressed their willingness to accept any invita tion, however worded, the said terror might extend. "Hump erlong, ! an' fn a hurry," he growled savagely as he noted one solitary exception to the unanimity of the acceptances, "or, by the crook of my elbow, I'll hurt yer; hurt yer bad." The single exception, however, quiet ly retained his seat, and neither by gesture nor speech did he show the slightest consciousness of the presence and the language of the most famous and infamous, desperate, and dreaded devil that had ever frightened a western sheriff into temporary civility. Great was our terror's am zement, and greater his wrath, when ho bname convinced that it was actually the in tention of the rash stranger to ignore himand his mandatory invitation. With huge, self-acting revolver in hand, he j started toward him. As he approached nearer, the silent unknown uncoiled his long legs and extended himself gradu ally upward, and upward, and upward, until at l.ist he presented to our aston ished vision the towering form of the tallest aud thinnest mortal we had ever seen. When within two or three feet of him the terror paused and said: "I give yer tu understan' that I'm Bloody Bill the terror of sherrufs an' the pattern saint ot undertakers. D'yer hear mer "Oh, yes; I'm not deaf," was the reply, in a cool, steady voice. 'An' I'm the favorite and the rival of de'th and dockters," continued the desperado. "First-rate record, that," was the ap proving reply. "I'm a jumping Jumbo I'm the very fe ther that broke the canipliell s back I'm a Texas steer stampeded I'm a cuniel straight lrom Arkinuiw an'. yer! look out, fur I'm goin ter shoot!" Simultaneously with the elevation of the revolver, the stringer's foot flew forward and upward, the liall meant for his heart went crashing harmlessly through the roof and then. witn a rapidity of movement that gave to his russet brogan ihe appearance of a chunk of lightning in a mighty hurry he kicked Bloody Bill tinder the chin. tiehiud the ear, in the stomach, in the 1 1 ' i ' L' nn t fin i,:n ...ih aha r.r imd then the other and so effectually too, that the astonished and thoroughly shocked man-eater found it impossible to use a single one of the half-dozen weapons attached to his belt. But the terror was really brave, and he strug gled pluckily to uphold aud preserve the sanguinary reputation so dear and pro- ntabie to lum, until his slim and supple antagonist finally terminated the tight by a double-footed kick that stretched Bloody Bill prone and breathless upon rue nooi. "When restored to consciousness he approached the great uuknown and said: "Fur ,he las' but. fust, what shah I call yer? Uener I dook prisidmt.' ' "Plain mister," said the other. "What! Yer a plain mister!" ex claimed the terror, incrdulously "Jussc" "All right, all right, sence you say so; yer deserv promoshun. Now, mister, fur sum years I've tnot I was a whole menag'ry in myself lyon, elefiut, wulf, an' all that but I'll lie darned ef hit don't look tei. day like I'd been runnm' a two-bit sideshow all erlong. Ef ar greeyble, sit, I'd like tu l'aru who an what yer air." "I," replied the stranger, in u deep, grave voice, "am the Givat Amerikin Mule." "Then, God be thanked, gasped the trembling terror, " that yer didn't have on yer rrun shoes:" In relation to the rupture between Prince Napoleon and his son Prince ictor, the truth is that Prince Na poleon, intentioally r out of thought lessness, allows i"rince V ictor the almost ridiculous sum, fo one in his position, of i;:it per annum for his expenses. Prince Victor ve young, in every sense of the word. He has nu merous opportunities for amusement, and he regrets tlie necessity of renoun cing them. It is easy to understand that an allowance of 7,5u0f. obliges a young Prince to undergo perpetual pri vations, and keeps him from the costly pleasures of his habitual companions. Prince Victor impatiently desiring the means of lasting the life he longed for, when Madame Auban Moet, the heir ess of the houst, of Moet, of champagna celebrity, died. This lady left a for tune of C0,UOO,000f. to her husband; but she provided in hei will that, if he predeceased her, Prince Victor should succeed to her fortune. She died; her husband survived her. and succeeded to her fortune. He felt, however, a kind of scruple at taking everything, and made, indirectly, overtures to Prince Victor, with a view of presenting him with what was a small part it is true, of so immense a fortune, but was never theless a considerable sum, for it amounted to one or more millions of francs. M. Aubane's intermediaries then placed themselves in communica tion with Prince Napoleon and Prince Victor, in order to ascertain what steps should be taken to carry out M. Au ban 's intentions. The negotiations have not yet led to any result. But Prince Victor, with the impetu osity of youth when a dream is near realization, as soon as he knew what was going on, and learned from friends, anxious to give him the good news, that he was about to become possessed of a considerable fortune tor a young man, hurried to one of his intimites, who happened to have a young man's lodging to let, and, as if the millions were at his command, wished to choose these apartments. This is the whole tory. Contrary to what has been said, there have thus far been only negotia tions, nothing as y et being settled. M. Auban is still master of 'his whole for- tune, and there is nothing to show that an arrangement will be made. It is evident that a Prince cannot accept a revocable annuity from a prl vate person, who at any moment might lay down conditions, and oblige tne possible Pretender to subordinate his political acts to the will of the donor. It may therefore happen, although it seems improbable, that the gift will not be carried out, and that Prince Victor will still be confined to hw i.:JO a year and condemned to live with his father. and to renounce his pretty dream of an independent home, where he could do the honors and receive whom he pleased. Prince Napoleon will certiiinly not show any disposition, to increase his son's allowance, after the outcry which has been made almut the projected sepa ration from the latter. As to the question of whether or not there are jKilitical differences lietween the father and the son. such differen ces do exist. Prince Victor does not share the tendencies of his father: and he especially objects to Prince Napoleon leaning everso little toward the Repub lic. In fact it has been pointed out to him that a man is something when he is t'ie sou of a Emjieror, or even of a Pretender: but that the son of a Presi dent of the Republic is simply the son of his father, and nothing more. He therefore certainly disanproves of his father's democratic policy, and when, some time ago, he was shown Prince Naiioleons letter, in which the latter in a fashion recognized the Republic, Prince Victor said. "It might have been worse" a characteristic utter ance, showing that the fuJier's policy is not approved by the son, but that the son is very much shocked or alarmed by the parental opinion. I am convin ced in fact, that at preseut politics are not the ruling preoccupation ot tne young Prince, and that he would will ingly let Ins father compromise the lm- Ienal policy, on condition of being permitted to live accjrdinj to his taste. which at present is for th gaieties of youth. A Burglar- Lot MaklnK. A San Francisco correspondent writes, it has often been said that noth ing save business success and money constitutes a claim to social recognition on this coast; as, even with such illus trations of that fact as the Sharon trial before them, our Eastern friends can hardly understand how absolute said rule is here, we can hardly expect the following perfectly true incident to be believed out of our own Sta'e: One night not long ago the daughter of one ot our best citizens was awaken ed by a noise in her room, and UHn sitting up dijcoveretl a man disguised in a black mask standing beside her bed and calmly contemplating her fea tures by the aid of a bull's eye lantern. '"Don't be alarmed, miss," he said, "I haven't Liken anything yet." "Bless mei'' said "the girl; "I do be lieve it's a burglar." 'Of course it is," said the house breaker with an ungratifying smile as he lit a cigarette, "and I'm proud of it." "What do you want," demanded the young lady. "Well, I did want to sample your jewelry case," said the roblier, "but you looked so all-fired pretty lying there with your auburn hair just my style and 1 couldn't help waking you to see if you also had dark eyes. I am terribly fond of light hair aud dark eyes myself." "Well, I have," said the young lady, glancing at the mirror. "But I must look like a fright in this this dress." "On the contrary, white is becoming to you," said the disciple of Jimmy Hope, tenderly. "By the way, are you engaged?" "That's telling," said the girl. "No, but are you honest Injun? Well, yes I am to a young lawyer: but I don't care for him so very much." "He's poor, isn't he?" "Oh, awrully." "Exactly; I thought a? much. Now, my dear girl, don't you know there is nothing in this love-in-a-cottage busi ness? Vou don't want to peg along nursing babies in some stuffy back room for the next ten years, do you?" "N'-o-o-o," murmured the girl. "Then why not let this fellow slide and take me? I'm pretty comfortably fixed. Business has been pretty good this season, and our profits are large. Our firm is now running a tunnel under a bank, and I've got a fourth interest. Besides, I'm Secretary of the Burglar's Protective Association. What d'yer say?" "Could u t we go abroad next sum mer?" asked the girl thoughtfully. " Why certainly. I expect to have to. Just think over the matter, and I'll drop in some night later in the week. I know how to get in." And, should ering his kit, the Secretary stepped out of the window and went off to oiien a jewelry store foi an engagement ring. And the next day the young lawyer. received back his let' era aud photo graph. Ifttnuinse. The Isthmuses of the globe have long since received notice to quit. Engin eers look uon every remaining neck of land as only affording a fine opportunity for tenting their skill. The Isthmus of Suez was cut through long ago; the Isthmus of Panama is undergoing the operation, and now an attack is to be made upon the Isthmus of Corinth. But the supply of isthmuses is growing short and engineering opacity and am bition are now turning to peninsulas for the exercise of these qualities. A project has been recently launched for digging a canal from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean, converting Spain and the adj.icent portions of France in to an island. It would seem that engin eers have laid down a principle that all ends of continent mistook their vocation when they did not emerge iu the shape of islands. Perhaps the birth of this modern idea is to be attributed to general Butler, who, during the war, cut a ship canal at Dutch Gap, on the James River, in the face of hostile batteries, thus shortening by many miles the navigation or that tortuous stream and conferring a las-.ing benefit upon all sorts of vessels that ply on its waters. W lntrs In feajcland. T here have len winters in England milder than this last, exceptional as that has been. In 12S2 so mild was the season that the trees were covered with leaves and birds built their nests and hatched their young in the month of February. In 153S the gardens were bright with flowers in January. Neither ice nor snow wa visible in ltVW, no fires were Ut in 1G02, and the softness of the weather in 1791. 1 -(07 aud 18i was phenomen iL In 132U white blos soms were to be seen on the trees in March and oo the vines in April. NEWS IN BRIEF. Philadelphia boasts of 35,0 more females than males. A ladies' brass band is a musical 'eat u re of Albion, Mich. S-juth Carolina h"s no less than 1508 flour, grist and rice mills. Subscription s are being rai- ed to build a crematory in Lancaster, Pa. Nearly 200 divorce suits are calen lered for trial in the Boston courts. This year's cotton crop in the South, Is figured at 5,7uu,0i)U bales. English shooting-clubs have killed '07.000 pigeons in the past five years. Mile. Rhea played to 51,000 houses in San Francisco every night last week. San Antonio, Cal., has a law which prohibits the blowing of steam whist les. A nine mile wide swarm of locusts is reported to be devastating Texmalca. Mex. The supply of spiritual consolation for the English soldiers costs 5:i5,000 yearly. Turkey imports aliout Sl.OOo.OoO worth of petroleum from this country annually. Adirondack Murray is said to be keeping a second-rate restaurant in Montreal. Women can be, and many of them are, notaries public in the Slate ot New lork The Crown Piinces of Prussia has a necklace of thirteen pearls which coshi $'J3,000. Finds of precious stones, near Waukesha, are reported by S. S. Bovn- ton, of Milwaukee. New York has now 107.3O0 build- Ines, and is Increasing the number at the rate of 2000 a year. In Washington county N. V.. potatoes have been selling at 20 cents Ier bushel to the starch mills. Distillation and the various kind ed processes were introduced mt.i ngland by the Moors about 11"A. The first statute forbidding clergy men to hold more than one lenetice is dated in the reign of Henry VIII. The total number of serarate farm n the United States is 4,o0 and their aggregate value is 5W,Uuo.uo0, J00. In Ireland, several of whose coun ties possess superior coal and iron, there is some talk of a n-vival of the iron trade. The English and German syndicate has purchased l,0Ub,mK), acres of Jand n j lor:da, and will divide it up into small farms. The famous Flat Rock Spring, at aratoga, which disapieared a'oout 2-1 years ago, Is said to have again com menced to bubble. Count Tolstoi is credited with hav ing begun a reform in Russian prisons that will make them more like those of other European States. The Coliseum was consecrated in 17"0 by Benedict XIV.. in honor ol the early Christian m;irtvrs who had died for the faith within its walls. Of the 2,.TOO,000,OUO francs voted y the French government f-r extra ordinary war exjienses siuce 171 no less than li'J0,0U0,0uo remain undisbursed. An average day's work for a tele graph operator is the sending of 500 average messages, and to do this r quires about 300,000 distinct motions. The French ministry asks for a credit of 38.000.O0O francs on account of theTonquin expedition and or 4. 500,000 on account of the Madagascar affair. New York stands Cist iu the list of beer brewing cities in ioiut oi quantity produced, Philadelphia comes next, 5t. Louis third aud Milwaukee fourth. Daniel Burkett. of Big Creek Gan. East Tennessee. l'J years old. 30 pound; in wehjht, and 18 inches high, rises, up to take the places vacated bv poor little Tom. News dealers in Vustin. Texas. have agreed to discontinue the sale of certain New York publications that they deemed detrimental to public morals. Euclid flourished about 300 B. C. The "Elements" are not wholly Lis, for they contain demonstrations taken from Thales, Pythagoras. Eudoxas and otheis. Statistics recently issued hv tin Dutch Government show that an area of at least 92,000 acres has been recov ered from the sea during the last three centuries. Delaware and Maryland promis 0,1)00,000 baskets of peaches this sum- .ueiaware win also have 1,500,0m. quarts or strawberries a day to during the seasou. ?lar Philadelphia has the name of charg ing the biggest commercial traveler tax (300) known to the country; but it is not a very important source ol revenue for all that. 1SS3 California produced 2.C1V1.C0C pounds of dried fruits, besides 125.UOV boxes of raisins, 20 pouuds to the box. 70U0,0M) pounds of almonds, and 500,-. OuO pounds of walnuts. The cost of railroad ties used every seven years in the United States, according to a statement made before the Forestry Congress, is not far from fifteen million dollars. The municipality of Rome h;is re fused to give to the Minister of Publit Instruction the Convent of the Car thusians. The Government wanted tht convent for a sculpture museum. The changes of level of the Caspian puzzle, geographers. It has risen and fallen at irregular intervals since 1870. but was 10 leet lower in 180 than in 1-870. In 1882 it was luj inches highei than in 1830. The first regiment of dragoons was raised in England in 108L The nam is supposed to be derived from "dra gon," because mounted the soldiej 'with lighted match seetnetu like a Gery dragon." Cinnamon, a species of laurel, is mentioned among the perfumes of the sanctuary (Exod. xxx. 23), H'Jl B. C. It was found in the American forest by Don Ulloa, 1730; was cultivated in Jamaica and Dominica, 1788; and U now grown m ejlon. The statement of the United Statp Treasurer shows gold, silver and Unit ed States notes in the Treasury on 1st June as follows: Gold coin and bullion. 5202,04,400, silver dollars and bullion, 5117,1)70,511; fractional silver coin, $27.iil,378; United States notes, $53, 130,515. Total, 54o2.052.93O. Certi ficates outstanding, gold, $59,013,0i0; silver, $73,003,021; currency, $12.30 300.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers