'him " i fir THE 00S8nTUTI0I TEE TTSIOl-lID THE EJTOBGEMEHT OP THE LAVS. Editor and Proprietor. VOL. XXXIX. AIIFFLINTWN. JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA.. WEDNESDAY. MARCH 11, 1SS5. NO. 11. - B. F. SCHWEIER, ' A. picture memory brings to roe: I I kjK aciosa tins years ami mm Mys-rif beside aiy mo-tier's ken. feel hr gentle band restrain My M-lri-li moods, and know nUn A child's blind km of wrong and pain. Brit ir now, a man gray grown. My childhood's neds are better kuown. My lumber's chastening tovo I own. Gmv crown, Inn in onr Father's sight A chiid "HI pruning fvir the liglit lo le.td His works and ways aright f low mysr'f lienea'n His hand; 1 ha' nam i'ef ir pood was pla'unod, I mis,, but cannot understand. I fondly dream it needs mnst be Thar, as my iiinth-rs dealt with ma, So un hi children dealetu He. I wolf, aa.l trnst the end will provo Th it her and there, Mow, a born Hie ci.asteuma heals, toe pin Is love! TDt DEAN'S DAlGHTKR. The ha'f-bour had Just chimed from the Cathedral spire, and the bells were softly ringing for ev?n-soLg. The Dean stopped ia 1ns hurried walk across the close to shake liands with Robert Ar ms' n, the richest and handsomest man Id Dodiuzton. "I want to speak to you. Bob, after service. Go in; the girls will entertain you." Mr. Armain stopped at the Deanery pate and looked back over the quiet close. '-I'll ask Care tc-mzht. By Jove, I shouldn't like to be refused by that cold stately woman! I don't think she would but I'll ask Clare I'll ask Cire " Tbe Dean's daughter and niece were together la the drawing-room when Mr. Armain was announced. "JJsn nir, young ladies. I am your prisoner t il the Dean returns." A wuiicg oner" said the Dean's nfere. "Such captivity is better than free dom, Miss Mai caret. IIow does the tatting get on, Clare? Still at it?" "i'cs," she auswered, lifting her oesd for a moment, with a smile that made her dark earnest face almost beautiful ' Don't smile to brightly. Clare, I have some sad news to tell you. John Morrison's regiment is ordered to India. He leaves Dodington to-morrow." 'Why do yoa call It sad? Jack is glad to co. Who but cowards would wish their swords to lie Idle now? I should rejoice, if I were a man. to be able to help our poor country-people in India," exclaimed Clare, her dark eyes lighting up with the passionate fire of her nature. Mr. Armain shrugzed hia shoulders. "I won't pretend to judge Morrison's feelings as well as you, Clare. He did not look very delighted though at tie prospect cf faiii.ig a victim to some Se poy's knife. We all would wish the poor things saved, but few care to be the sacrifice to redeem them." Clare rose impatiently, throwing down her work. I am going into the garden. Flowers are better company than you this even ing. Mr. Armaiu.' 'Poor Clare I" he said softly, as she left the room. "Why 'poor Clare?'" asked her cousin in Ler calm clear voice. She looked at him steadily, without a shadow of pain oa the proud beauty of her face, though her heart was beating wiidly with its gnef. "Can't you guess, Miss Margait?' "I think vou have offended her, Mr Armain. Vou had better go nd make your peace," she answered coldly. "1'hafs easily made. Clare and I have always been good friends since 1 came to Dodington." He left the room and went out into the sunny garden. "Won't you leave the flowers and me to talk to each other?" Clare asked as he jj'ned her. "1 want to talk to you; can you lis'en. Clare? It is about myself." "WVd'f" lie hesitated a moment. "It is terribly lonely at the Court, Clare; it wants a mistress." Sue lifted her beautiful eyes to his, with a sudden light m them. Did be read the secret they revealed? He did, with sudden surplice and dismay, but he went on. 'I dou't love your cousin much.Olare, bat she is a Ot mistress for my fair an cestral home. The Armains have al ways married such beautiful, stately women to reign at the Court." 'Indeed! But why do you tell me this?" haid Clare, speaking with her burning, tearless eyes upon the flowers. "Won't vou answer me as a sister, Clare? Do you think she would be my "1 don't know. Why do vou trouble with such questions, Robert? Ask Margaret herself." 'But, Clare " Tor pity's sake go awayl I will net listen." She turned away bravely, stiuseluig with her emotion. "Ure dear," Ribert said, gently laving h sl.and upon herarui,' woman s pride should be stronger than ber love. Don't reveal that you care for any one before he asks to know." They we.e cruel words, but they brouzht hack Clare's calmness. "IVank yon. Robert; when I do care for anv one, I will remember your ad vie." He left her without speaking again, and weht back into t'.ie drawiug-room. Miss Temple was standing at the win dow, the evening light tailing brightly on her fa r face and stately figure, "A !ove:v evening, "remarked Robert "It is Where is Uare.Mr. Armain? "Sue will cot leave her flowers. Miss Margaret, shall I tell you why I came to Hie Deanery to-niht?" "if jou please. " "I case to ask yoa to be my wife. I cannot woo as some menMiss Margaret Give me a plain answer to my plain i'Je '.ion." She turned caimly towards him. "1 do not care for you. Mr. Armain. But there were no words of love In your question; there shall be none in my answer. I will rnaiTy yon." "Not loving me, Margaret ?" "You did not ask for love; I have none to give you. If I become your wife. Mr. Armain, I shall marry for wealth and position. You have my aa swer." Si,e spoke without a flush on her face or a quiver in her voice. "Few women would be so candid, M:s- Margaret. Why do you not care for rce?" "Love canaot be gained without be ing given, Mr. Armain. You care only for my beauty; you don't love me you Cont understaud me." "it's a fair bargaia your beauty lor ZltZP 8W Mf- Ara little ) hand in hlsT ' Wlnt It senta chill through Robert ArmainV veins, and Clara's brown eyes seemed to Rooking at him again m mute re proachf ul love. . r" IXl5ne ,woruMiir2anit, that i mav remember till we meet again on earth or in heaven?" They were standing in the garden among the Uowers, Lieutenant Morrison and Margaret Temple, the latter no ongpr calm and cold, but flushed and trtmbling, her eyes dim with tears. "1 am uot wortny of your love, John-' she answered; I have sold myself for wealth. 1 g,m engaged to Robert Armain.' "M u garet, Margaret I" "Jt is true. I suali be the m 'stress of the Court, Jack, I could never have beu your wife ; I could not marry a poor man " "And you say you love me,Margaret! False cruel!" l ao i ao: Heaven help me! I cannot give my love to Robert Armaiu. It is all yours." "Margaret, one moment before rnn go. We may never meet again I trust we never snail." She paused silently. Fur a moment they looked at each other; then, sud denly breaking down, the youug man hid his face iu his hands, sobbing out va. aiag.-ie, aiaiel And I loved you so deariy!" "Jack.'don't. for Heaven's sake! The Dean is comiog!"' she exclaimed, glanc ing up me patu. "1 ou leave us to-morrow then, my ooy f" said tue Uean as he drew near. Yes, sir I am come to say good bye." "Clare Is in the drawing-room. Come in" "I will say good-bye now, Mr. Morri son," said Margaret calmiy. The Dean's grave eyes were on them. They shook bands and parked. hummer was catii-g down her crown of flowers, reapers were busy in the harvest fields, and Robert Armain's weddirg-day was drawing near. The sunny days that had ripened the fruits of the earth had taught Robert Armain what a terrible mistake be had made. The love he had scornpd was more pre cious to him now than all the world be side, and he was plighted to Margaret. A few weeks betote his marriage he was in tne drawiiig-room With the twogiris. Miss Twiple was playing; her lover stood beside the piano, but his eyes were on Clare's face. The Dean's daughter wis standing at the window, looking across the close with eyes that drooped a little beneath their lids. "How Co you like this newwltz?" asked Margaret "Very pretty," be aiswered absently. She iooked up at him. "Ah, youarenotlisientni? and Clare is in one of her dardreams! I don't care to play to myself ;" and Miss Tem ole roe and shut the piano in lofty dis pleasure. Mr. Arm.iin itM'.le no attempt to con ciliate her; he turned away carelessly without a word, and crossed the room to Clare's side. "D plv tnac wait! ajrain it wa laut iful. Maggie," she said, turning to Miss Temple. "I am tirei of playing, dear I want to write some letters," she returueo coldly as she left the room. Clare left the window, and took up her work. "Maggie Is I'wkiug very thin and pale," she said. 'HJomg abroad will do her good." "Clare, I did not think you would have spken socaimly of my marriage." She rose, flushing indignantly. "Mr. Armain." "I know you love me. Clare. I knew it that night I asked your cousin to be my wife, Fool that I was! Don't let my mistake ruin both our lives." "What do you mean?" she asked haughtily. "Ciare, I love you! For Heaven's sake be merciful! Say but one word, and you are mine for ever." She looked at him coldly, scornfully. I loved you once, Mr. Armain, but then I thought you an honorable man who would hold his plighted word sacred. Loose my hand, please." "It Is your prkle that speaks, Clare; I know you iove me. Let your love plead for me," he auswered passion- 'Love yon. Robert Armain! I utterly despise you!" She snatched her hand away, and haughtily left the room, giv ing no heed to his pleading words. "Clare, Clare, listen one moment!" She dared not remain. Her pride, her keen sense ot honor, her strong will, could not destroy her love; It was pleading wildly for Robert Armain as he spoke. In a moment more stie would have been clasped in his arms,happlneas zaired and honor lost. . Robert Armain spoke truly when he told Clare that her cousin was a fit mis tress for his fair ancestral home. As lady of the Court she performed her part well, and Mr. Armain might well have been proud of the fair stately woman who ruled his hiuhold and bore his name his wife in all but the love that is the truest tie between man and woman. Bound together by vows exchanged before God's altar, they were farther apart in heart than before their wedding-day. They sat together In the pleasant breakfast-room of the Court on the first anniversary of their weddinz-day, lin gering over their letters. M. Arma.n a cV.ffe was untouched; he had pushed his plate baca to re his head upon his hands, while be read the letter before im. It was from the Dean. He had len abroad with his daughter daring most of the past year; now tney were come home. "... "Clare Is almost herself ajain," wnre the Djan; -with tendercare 1 trust she will iuite recover ber health. She U so like her mother that It makes me trem ble " "Si the Dean is come honw,"' Mrs. Armaia remarked, laying down the let ter she had received from Clare. "Yes," her husband answered. Clare seems very h ime-sick," his wife went on. "Dear child, I long to - WhS"ber mother die of?" askel Mr Armain, without raising his eyes. "Of decline when she was very young. The Dean almost broke his heart! I have heard my mother say." -Indeed!" said Mr. Armam. He folded the Dean's letter and put It into Lis pocket "Are you going to use the carriage tcay.Irgiret?" "Tea, I am going to Do&ingtoa. n e hive proraUM to be at Av6rs this evening." 'I shall be ready to accompany you. ciood morninz." "Good morninz," she answered, as she would have returned the salutation of a stranger. Her husband left the room, and Margaret took up the morning paper, turning by the force of habit to the army news. But the interest it had had for ber was gone. John Morrison was In England; his spurs had been bravely won In India. The next day was wet and stormy. Marg iret sat at the piano, playing a Hiehxly that sounded like an accompan iment to the sobbing of the wind through the rain. Her husband stood at the window, looking dismally out uion the lawn, where sodden leaves were driven to and fro and the great trees wailinz above their dead children. "Margaret!" "Well, Rolwrt." The music died away In a long mournful chord. "How horribly lonely it is! We must till the Court with company thisautumn. A tew of these days spent in-doors would drive me mad." 'Why don't you go out? You can take the close carriage, yoa know," she answered satirically. 'Better do that than listen to the ghostly times you get out of the piauo t bey make my flesh creep. For mercy's sae don't play any more! I say we U: ni fill the house with company." "As you please," his wife returned, closing the piano and taking np a book. Her calm face irritated him. "I do please, then. One might as well have a statue In the house as you, Margaret, Can't you have pity on a fellow, aud tain a little?" She laid aside ber book. "What do you wish rr.e to say?" n paced the room before he spoke again. "I should like the Dean aud Claie and Jack Morris m to spend a week i.r two here. Is there any one you would like to invite besides?'- "Xo but, R rrt, dont Invite Cap tain Morrison." "Why? I wish him to eooirt." "I don't wish him to do so I would much rattier he did not indeed." "Just because I like him, because his ccmpany would cheer me up a little I I know you ton well, Mrs. Armain." Margaret was aeathly white her voice trembled as she spoke, "Robert, I beg of you not to ask him here. " "I tell you I sliall. It Is utter non sense. I si, ad a-vfc bim to-morrow. Have jou the same ol-jec'ou to vour cousin aud uncle, tray?" "If I am to receive all the visitor you choose to name, it is useless asking ray opinion," she answered, taking up her book again and leaving the room. "Won't you come, Clare? Robert wishes it verr much and I need not say how glad I shall be to have you with roe." So spoke Mrs. Armaia. Mm was standing by the fire in the Deanery drawing-room, her stately figure, in its sweeping silken robes, forming a strong contrast to the Dean's daughter. Clare was leaning back in her easy-chair. weary with the joy of coming home again. Stie wasclianged greatly changed All the fire of love and hope had left her face. A sorrow-stricken woman she looked, save when fbe smiled the same sweet smile of o.d. That was unchanged. Sin alone can take away the beauty of a smiie. "Yoa won't come then, dear?" "Xo, Maggie, Don't ask m- to leave mv diar old home agiin. I feel better here and and I'm not strong, Mag gie." Mrs. Armain did not answer. Her deiicate hands were twisting nervously in each other, and her dark eyes had a tnubied look in them. "Don't be vexed, dear," Clare went on. "You know papa could not leave his work I know he would not." "Why Lot say at once that you do not care to come?" said Mrs. Armain bitterly. "You are quite right. The Court is only a great slate-house, not a home not a home,, Clare. Stay In your own warm nest, birdie. Good-bye." "Don't leave me. Maggie, so coldly. I would come If I could. Don't be angry." "Angry with you, my iunocent, pure minded darling! If I had not married for money, you would come perhaps; but a curse is resting on me. Who shall tell where it will end?" And, without waiting for au answer to her wild words, she kissed her cousin and left the room. It was more than three weeks later before Clare heard anything of the do ings at the Court. One morning Robert Armain called. He was going to Lon don by the no n express to stay a day or two on business. "I am obliged to leave Margaret to entertain the visitors alone. I wish you could have come, Clare." "Have you much company at the Court?" "A couple of my old aunts, a distant cousin and his family, and Captain Mor rison I thought the Court was dull before, but it's worse than ever now. Every one makes it the aim of his or her life to thwart or annoy everybody else. You caa imagine the result." Clare laughed, and the Dean re marked "Your duties as host mut be no sin ecure. Bob." "By Jove, nol It s the hardest work 1 have ever done. Captain Morrison Is as bad as any of them. I never saw a man so changed in my life. But I must be off. Wben are your loses coming back, Clare? Good-bye," He shook bands with them both and hastened away. Clare hao been ordered totaxe riding exercise. Her father had bought her a beautiful pony, and that afternoon Claie donned ber riding habit and can tered away through Dodiugton into the quiet lanes. Everything was very still and silent under the autumn sunshine, and Clare rode on with loosened brid'e, thinking, not of the past, but of the future the mysterious future that might so soon lead her into the spirit land. For Clare knew that the danger the doctors feared was not over. Auy sudden excitement, a chill, a keen sor row, might break the silver cord and, like ber mother, cut her off in the flower of her youth. A sharp turn In the road roused ber. It curved along a low park paling to join the highroad. She fastened her horse to tne terrace piuar ana ran up the steps into the hall. The peace of the autumn afternoon bad fallen noon the house. Nothing was stirring. Ciare went Into the drawing-room, but the great room was solitary ia lta splendor, and she was turning away, when a low, stifled sobbing caught her ear. Jt came from the little moer rooa. The Deaa's daughter crossed to the heavy curta ns . and softly parted them. Kneeling ui)n the floor, her proud head burled in ber hands, was Margaret Armain. She was trembling with intense emotiou, Clare saw, as she knelt down by ber side. "Maggie, Maggie, w;.at alls you?" "Clare!" Her hands dropped from her face, which she vainly strove to bring back to its usu U calmness. She rose slowly. "Why have you corns here? Who sent your" she asked fiercely. "I came to see you. Xo one sent me What is it. dear? What sorrow have you which I do not share?" "Xonsense 1 was a little hysterical that's all. fooli-sti ciiiul grieving be cause Robert is away," Mrs. Armaiu returned with a laugh -such a laugh it made Clare shudder. "Your face is more truthful than your voice, Miegie, I know you are in trouble can't 1 help you to bear it? Don't yoa remember when we were children?" "Good Heaven," Mrs. Armain ex claimed wildly, "do you wish to drive me mad? I ruu-t forget I ever was a child, ever anything but a lost weman lost, lost for this world aud tiie next! Don't touch my band don't come near me, Clare. 1 sold myself once for wealth, and found my golden s-rvitude was misery ; now I sell myself again, body and soul, houor aud fa r name, for a little happlnes . Loose my hands, Clare. Get up." "Xo, no! Maggie, tell me what 1 think isn't true. Tell, me I'm false to all our old love, to the love I bear you now, to think you could sin so deeply. Maggie, Maggie, tell me I'm wroug, for Heaven's sake, for yonr angel mother'3 sake, for the sake of our happy childhood tell me It isn't true!" For ore awful moment there was si lence in the room where Clare knelt at her cousin's feet. Then Margaret Ar maiu unclasped the bauds that clung to her, aud answered "It is. Get up and go home. You cannot, shall not save me. You will never see me again neverl" Clare did uot rise or speak a dumb chill horror bad crept over ber; her face grew cold and rigid, and with a low cry she fell forward upon the floor, uncon scious. Mrs Armain lifted ber up and laid her upou a couch. As she bent over ber in terror, the curtains parted and Captain Morrison entered. A hot flush rose to bis face as he recogczed Ciare. Even ber white still face bad power t3 reproach. ' Is she ill? Hasshefaiiited?" Margaret turned lo him. For a mo ment she could not speak; an 1 never, in all the horrors of India, had Jack seen such agony as was written on her face. "She is dea l, 1 think " she said, in a strange hard tone. "I have murdered ber bv tilling the truth. It needed only this." For one moment Captain Morrison bent over C are. "Ring for helpl I will go for a doc tor and the Dean." He bad lett the house tne next In stant, on his way to Dodington. It was dusk before Jjck returned to the Court. In the hall he met the doc tor, who answered sadly the young man's questioning look. "She is dyiog. Captain Moriisoa; she has broken a biood -vessel. " "Dying, doctor?" The answer was interrupted. Mrs. Armain came tiowa the wide staiis to Jack's side. "She wanti you. D.ctor, you are not going?" "I shall stay here to-night, Mrs. Ar main," he answered gravely. She bowed and turned again to Jack. "Come." He followed her up the stairs,but at the library door she stopped. "I had nearly forgotten I must tele graph to Mr. Armain," Jack watched her while she wrote the few words and gave directions to the servant, in wonder at her calmness. "Yoa must be very quiet,'' she siid, as she joined him again and led th9 way. Once more she stopped at the door of the chamber of death. Th9 Dean was praying with his daugliW. Something In the old man's voice touched Jack Morrison more than all. and in an agony of remoisi and sorrow he knelt d jwn by the chamber door aud wept. Margaret looked at him wonder inzly.but she did not speik. There was a movement in the room. Margaret heard Clare's voice, and she opened the door and entered. Tne Dean silently clasped Jack's hand, and led him to the bedside. "She wants to bid you good bye," the old man faltered. "I am dying, Jack. Oh, Jack " She stopped; her eyes spoke the rest all her fear aud pain and sorrowful shame. He bent over her and kissed her. "Yoa have saved os, Ciare; you have lost your life to save us." "I am glad," she said faintly. She closed her eyes for a little, and then she spoke azam. "Jack, won't you try to be a good man? We were always like brother and sister. Won't you try to meet me la Heaven?" "I will I swear it. Clare. Heaven hel iug me, I will." Margaret was standing by the bedside. At these words she spoke. "I cannot promise to be a good woman, but I promise, der, to be a true aud faithful wile." Tnere were few words after this. Through the evening the three watched in the silent room where death already cast its shadow. Towards midnight another came to join them Mr. Ar main. Clare knew him, and called him by his old familiar name. "Yoa will be kind to Margaret, Bob?" Those were her last words. As an other day was bora she died quietly. without a struggle. Directly aftfr the funeral Captain Morrison left Dodinzton for India He bad thrown up his commission and ac cepted an appointment in the City of Palaces. Many years nave passed since thee, but Jack has not revisited his native land. He Is a rich oh, bachelor, aud many councils are held in Dodiugton as ; to who will Inherit the money be has to leave. The gossips talk too of the probable heir of the Court, which has become very much neglected. Mr. Armain has no children a fact that accounts in many minds for his worn, wretched face and the faded beauty of his haughty wife. Day by day they are counting the cost ot marrying without love. At rest within the quiet cloisters lies the Dean's daughter. After life's Stf ui fever she sleeps weiL Spirit of the press older, 1 awwMM Arcnltsctw. "Architectural taste has improved very much in America within the last twenty years," siid a prominent archi tect, who has designed some of the fluent buildings in Xew York, to a re porter. "It Is jot so much the lavsh expenditure on buildings as the pure and simple structural qualities that are desired. The facade must be free from too much ornamentation; not too severe in outline, but still just a strong touch of the classical to make it decided aud tun or expression, wow aa men a rich man witb too much money de sires a home constructed so full of gabies and superfluous angles that it i dilllcult to tell whether it belongs to the R-maissauce period or is a dream of Chinese pagoda rnd Saracenic style combined. These instances, tnough, are very rare. The improved art of photography, the great travel of Amer ican tourists in Europe, and improved methods of education haveelevated and refined the American taste in architec ture and made it possible to expect, at some future period, an American Re naissance." "What are the principal changes in American architecture within the last twenty-five years?" "Up to twenty-five years ago the old Colonial or Queen Anne style prevailed generally. Then began a strange period in tbe history of American arch itecture. It was not a transition exactly, but a change ou the old, with many weird and fantastic Innovations. It was Griffith Thomas' exuberant American Renaissance. The facade of a building was expressionless, yet full of salient features, jumbled here and there in most admired disorder. It might have been properly called tbe million aire's hobby st) le to squander wealth. A reaction is happily going on now which will bury in oblivion the style so, expressive of waste yet so devoid or taste. A few of these fantastic edifices now stand in different parts of the city as eyesores to the plain aud neat struc tures around them. In a few years they will disappear and give place to the present re.i.ied taste, which Is man ifesting itself by the erection of fine buildings." 'How about the Queeu Anne style now?" It is decidedly ou the wane. What ever is good in It will survive, and what is bai will be dropped. This style Is frequently overdone, and is permitted to run into wild and meaningless ex travagances, which mar simplicity and degrade the very beauty that exists In tii it style. This fact, in my opinion, has done more to create a reaction against that style than improved taste. 1 he name ot y teen Anue style covers a great deal of architecture. It is wide in its range, ana orten trespasses upon other styles Yet it remains distinct, aud has art Influence impossible to dis card in a decade or two. But that il has a general feeling of weariness about it cannot be disputed, and thls.perhaps. as much as anything else acts as a po tent factor in its decadence." "IIow can you define the present ten dency of architectural style in Amer ica?" "First, I can say I believe a Iransi tion period exists at present; and thai this period is one of great uncertainty, with a tendency toward Italian Renais sance. Types of this style of building are found in Bologna, Italy, built ol molded bricks and terra-cotta woik. These buildiugsdo not in their construc tion permit of wild vagar es, but of de cided expressions of the best styles in itaiian iienaissauce, ia mis styie, too, I feet. And the finder has been held to greater effects in neat simplicity can b ; stand in the place of the owner, so that obtained than in that of the Queen j he was permitted to prevail in an action Anne. Then it also permits of greater) agamsta person who found an article scoi for originality, aud oilginahty is; which the plaintiff had onyioally found much more d. sired now than formerly, j but subsequently lost unl. ssthose rights The idea among the wealthy and cult!- are conferred by statute. Receivers of ar vated is to combine taste aud usefulness j tides found are trustees tor the owner without throwing away money. Occa or finder. They have no power in the sionaiiy tae meu vai style is seen, and wnen nor overaons is capaoie or nue re sults The median J and Gothic are nearly the same." "What is the style In cottages and farm houses?" "Twenty yean ago all the ottages and fine farm houses were covered with a mansard roof. To-day you rarely ever see one with a mansard roof. Xor mandy farm houses are popular now, with rouud extinguisher roofs. Cotta ges are generally half English and ha'f French in style and present quite a picturesque appearance. The sama general improvement in architectural tone is felt in the style of farm houses anl cv.tage aa la private and public buildings For a time English taste ran riot in Queen Anne's stvle, but to day people are tired of it. It was the nlght-mare of architectural beauty, and the re-awakening has now commenced hi dead earnest. "As a general rule no good mediteval or Gothic styles are attempted except in churches. It is a difficult style to do justice to, and lor that reason haidly any of the Gothic have been built. Trinity and St. Thomas Churches are clever Gothic styles. Bat the general tendency ot these stylet degenerates into mongrel type, scarcely definable, Grace Cnurch ts flambiyant Gothic and a fine type. There are three stvles of Gothic twelfth century, decorative and perpendicular. Trinity Church Is of the perpendicular and St Thomas' is decorative. Whatever deviations are made by sporadic furors for such a style, the reaction always comes back to the pure Italian Renaissance, This is the tendency in America, and opti mists predict a transition from this to an American Renaissance." Kacha.l's Total. Stil'i further on we arrive at Rchael' Tomb, modern square white struc ture, made of coarse plaster, roofed over with a dilapidated dome. By singular, coincidence of traditions, Jews, Moslems, Armenians, Greeks, Latins, and Protestant Christians all unite in pronouncing this the spot where Rachael'i life went oat and Ben jamin's began, when Jacob and his family were j icrneying southward from Bethel The pillow which Jacob sor rowfully set up to mark the site has passed away, but the general locality in the hearts of the people. The tomb lies at the junction of the Bethlehem and Hebron roads. We took the latter, of curse, pursuing a journey that bad ben tnidden before by Abraham, Isaa'", Jacob, Joseph, David, Saul, arauel, Solomon and mnst of the patri archs and prophets of the Old Testa ment. Across the valley to the right, as we turned our bacxs upon the tomb, was the modern village of Belt Jele, with sonn 4.00C inhabitants, all Chris t'ans the majority Latin and Greek church dignitaries. The villaze was apparently one dl the most attractive in . theHoiy LaaJL Bayalty. A lady's maid gives the following description of an entertainment given to Royalty in England: Last night I went to 12 Glouster Place to Count Dantas the Ambassador for Portugal to see the Crown Prince of Portugal the Banquet was the most splendid I ever saw 27 at Dinner and a bwarrie of SCO in the Evenini everyone Dressed to death the Ambassador received the ; Prince in the Hall and the Countess on i the first step of the stairs he is very fare very pale rather short hair very lite but rather good looking manners very pleas ing and simple the Queen sent one of her state footman I e sat in a state Chair in the Center of the Table the Countess on His right hand I think it was Earl Granvill on her right hand sha was the only lady at Table her dress was Black Satin puffed at the back with a very long train a flounce of Gold Freinge about 1 Yd deep the body look ed all Gold Elbow Sleaves and a little white lace tmly a jeweled Comb at the back of her head no Ornaments not even rings the decorations were quite lovely every room lit with wax can dles Just a slip of Damnsk for the plates round tbe Table the Center of the table looking Glass all the doors were left open and put Over every do r was most beautyful Xeedlework every dish was ornamented with the Arms of Por tugal needless troble for every visitor helped themselves quickly I d not think one of tbe party saw anything about it every dish Cut up to look whole put into ail sorts of Beautyful Shapes Cha-iots and Towers some made with rice and some with Bread Brown ed everything just filled in which kept the Cooking perfect every dish went round to each visiter with a Svoon and a waiter after the dish with the Sauces I began to wonder if it would ever end i d0 think it ever a crown fnnce made a good dinner one made one yesterday I had my Eyes and Ears open every visitor had their Coffee from a large Tray but the Prince had his from a small one for lain .ei; everything so well done thare was not a Single Hitch the refres-htcents for the Saarrie was quite Reautyful every part of the bouse was covered with Scarlet Cloth, the Ferns and Flowers was quite worth going to see the decorators were avow ed to remain to see him arrive and to their great delight when he sat down to dinner at once put the lovely flowers they had put for him in Lis Coat." TU Law of FindlDe. The law of findin? is this: " The Qnd er has a clear title against the world ex ceut the owner The nroorietor of a , coh or a railroad car or a shop has no ! right to demand the property found oa t,ne premises. such pioprietors may make regulations in regard to lost pro perty which will bind their employes, but not the public. The law of tiuding was declared by the King's bench lw years ago. in a case ia which the facts were these: A person found a wallet containing a sum of money on a shop floor. He handed the wallet and contents to the shop keeper to be returned to the owuer. After three years, during which the owner did not call tor bis property, the finder dem-tnled the wal let and the money from tbe shopkeeper. The latter refuse I to give them up on the ground that they were found on his premises. The former then sued the shopkeeper, and it was held as above set forth, that against a'l the world but the owner, the title of the tinder is per- absence of a siecial statute to keep an art cle against the finder, auy more than a finder has to retain au article against the owner. Cura ot cousumptloo. The will of the late Dr. John M. nowe of Passaic has been admitted to probate. For raauy years he was a den tist. He leaves an estate valued at $ou0.000, of which $2,500 is given to the Passaic Methodist Cnurrh and the re mainder to his family. His father was a Captain in the Revolutionary war and he bequeathed the original commis sion, a yellow document s gned by George Washington, to his son. Dr. John M Howe of this city. A part of the will relates curiously to his health. A considerable portion is, in fact, a treatise oa the cure of con sumption. He intro luc -s the subject by saying that in ls33 his life was pre served by the free Inhalation of pure, fresh air, after which time, in deep gra titude to God, he made the subject of "correct breathing of common atr" a study. He had been impressed by ob serving the result of a sigh in the Inte rior niech inism.tbe normal action of tbe organs being reversed thereby and everything being disarranged, while full, deep breathing led to a healthy dvelop meat of all these organs. He came to the belief that by the adoption ot the mode of breathing rcfeired to tubercu lar disease and all pulmonary consump tion could be forever annihilated. He closes tbe treatise with the exclamation, "God hasten the day!" Prldiitll llAUdwrltlu j Abraham Lincoln wrote a small, careful hand. The handwriting of General Grant Is easy to read. Andrew Johnsoa's handwriting was large and laoored. His Angers seemed all thumbs. Zachary Taylor wrote with a blunt pen. with few flourishes and no attempt at ornamentation. John Tyler, next to Garfleld, was the best writer among the Presidents. He wrote a clear, lezitle,open hand. Martin Vaa Buren did not like to write, but when he did sign his name it was in large, rouad characters. Franklin Pierce was the worst writer of all the Presidents. His writing was not pretty, but it could be easily read. The handwriting of William Henry Harrison was classic He was a man of varied accomplishments aid wide in formation. Xo one would ever be able to coun terfeit the handwriting of Rutherf rd B. Hayes. He never made the n jm letter the same way. James Buchanan was proud of his handwriting. He pride J himself on his punctuation, spelling and the elegance of bis style of composition. James K. Folk made a s gnature winch looks like copper plate. &very line ot it is well made, and there is a I flourish under it which would do honor so writing teacher. Under this heading the editor of "Science" groups tot etner a great deal of information ou the action of tea, cof fee and chocolate. The l itter, h says, from its large pro;ortiou of albumen, ts the most nutritious beverage, but at the same time, from its quantity of fat, the more dirhcu'.t to Oigest. Its aromatic substances, however, strengthen the digestion. A cup of cliocol te is an ex cellent restorative and invigorating refiesameut eveu for weak persons, pro vided their digestive organs aie not too ielicate. Cardinal Richelieu at! r buted to c ocolate his health and hilarity du ring later years. Tea aud coffee do not afford this ad vantage, Aibumeu iu tea leaves, leu mm iu coffee berries, are represented in very scauty proportions The praise of tea and coffee as nutritive is there fore hardly warranted. Tea and cotfee. though of themselves not ddheult of ligestion, tend to disturb the digestion of albuminous substances by precipita ting them from their dissolved slate. Milk, therefore, if mixed with tea or coffee, U more difficult of digestion thati if taken alone; aud coffen alone, wit! out cream, promotes digestion after' dinner by increasing the secretion of juices. The volatile oil of coffee and the empyreuinatic and aromatic matters of chocolate accelerate the circulation which, ou the other hand is ca'oied by tea. Tea aud coffee both excre the activi ty of the brain and nerves. Tea, it is said, increases the power of i.iietin? the impressions we have received, cre ates a thorough meditation, and in spite of the movements of thoughts, permits the attentiou to be fled uioo a certain subject. Ou the other hand, if tea is taken In excess, it causes nn iucreas d irritability of the nerves, characterized by sleeplessness, with a general feeling of restlessness and trembling of the limbs. Cogee, also. f taken m exc- ss. proiucessleeplesoues-and many baleful effects very similar to tuose of tea I drinking. Coffee, howeve, produces greater excitemeni, and a sensation of restles-.ne,s and heat eDSues. For throwing oH tins tonditiou, fiesu a.r is the best antitote. . - Vf oinu Wlio M ou't -Harrf. Meu marry the rattle hrainsoi'societv. They choose the pretty, goud-foi-iioth-log girls, for that is the kin. I they like; they run after and marry tne liveaet girl at a picnic or ball, though she may lie a '"holy terror" at home; they ruu after the lielle and the heire-s, though she may be selu-.k and spoiled, silly;! tney as oy me jewels and tKe "V.e snide,'' for that is all they know, and then like Adam they blame the rru.ts of their own folly on the uma. & was ever iuus. But, brethren we wish to bretk it 'o you gently there are woTien riihthtre at home who have their oa nij'.ef to use as they please; who have theTi onn pleasant homes and congenial occui-i- tions; aho can, if the iancy s-i'es t .eni, pack their trunks and take a jmut to Xew Orleans, slip off to Washington for a lew weeks, take in the cream of Xew York, or the balmy a.rs of Flon.U; in short, have a royal time in auy way they choose, who caii no maa master, and who "wouldn't marry the bc.-c man that ever stepped in shoe leath er." This will beas..oja to you, beloved I .1 : i . . .k .. i . I o.euur., iiuwi j uoue, i .ei-s nue. W omen find pleasure, comfort ami hap- noi nattering to man, uut mere is a growing disinclination to m.irria.-e j among women. Tney axe groi.,g more critical as to the measure of . J man, He will have to come up to aiV.,;, " ' 1 e ' 1 n'Jr c ; highei stnnltrd, or, in the poe- i 5lJ'' nobler, tieal parlance of the day, he will l 'kit. WDjtb Flrcmau Kolgoel. 'What caused you t) leave the fire I The honor of hiving the first straw department, Jim?" j terries of th sea-oa is being eagerly "Oh, I got Sick of it." j contested for by the several towns; In "What was the trouble?" "Well, I'll tell you. I worked four years to get on and then I got right off again. It wasn t what I thought it was, I'd watched the boys working lots of : times, and I'd teen around visitin, Obitu ines of a distinjuishei !w them at their houses. I kinder thought yer, who died a short tima a? in Cni I'd like it. When I got my appoint- j cago, mention that he rfUrted his career ment I felt that I was lixed for life. as a h.iotblacK. The second night after that an alarm came in tor us about il o'clock and out we went. "When we got to the fire, which was in a cellar, tbe cup'n male me go down and hold a lantern. The thermometer was about 2o below zero, and just as 1 1 RfHrtatoi70iinthh::rLst,,r!.sfre..ml'"'rca,,,-y'"1-'-,u S" hit me in the mouth ard knocked me . down so quick that I cou.da't ted what struck me, I lay thete senseless with I the hose a playing on me for a h't'ei while long enough for me to freeze fast any way and when I tried to get up I couldn't. I was all covered with icicles, and the whiskers of me were frozen so stiff that I couldn't get my mouth opo. j to yell. I began to think I was done t.-r There axe J J,oC5,553 ia Bank of wben one of the boys s'umb!edover me,' Eogland cotea .a Circulation, and the aud getting a lantern found cut who Ijbana's public and private depos.ts was. Then they had to chop me cut ' amount to ;4,0i32.470. with axes, and when I waUed oS I looked like a snow man. That sickened me of the fire department, and 1 re signed the next day. " Uuw to Coo a HiukfuC. Muskrat hunting is one of the sport! of the season in the marshes an 1 imli pondsif Maryland. Thousands of the little animals are caught and eaten. The uses of the mukrat are two-full. Its hide Is sold to furriers. Formerly, when muskrat fur was fashionable, the bid s easily brought 2 or Z) cents, but n.u.lnl(lnr 1.11, all tl.r.f thee a, worth. As a rood theexcelleuce of the a'-ule pan n tne L..o.e a . i read i meat deiends altogether on the skiu- Deer hounding in the Adirondack ning and cooking, if the mu-k bag is j is to be proh.o te 1 by iaw, ir a number cut and the scent Is impar.ed to the j of gentlemen wuon.-.vc'-ifexejted them meat it becomes worhless. A hunter selves iu the matter da secure teat writes: "I asked a colored woman who is somewhat noted for her success iu making muskrat palatable how s',a treated the animal, sne said sne skin ned it very carefuily. wished it wed ia fresh water, soaked It for severai hours It Alt wuhpr. and thn if thp weather was coll enough, huug it in the air so that it would freeze. Ttw longer U is ' allowed to freeze the better It gets, The cold takes away the wild taste, Af. this ). .ifhpr .'.. it. or if h 1 . - i. A k n :l 1 :.. 1 wanus ifc 'rieu. paiouua 11. miu ine 11, afterwards. When served hot after the foregoing treat meu t, it is a dish not to be despised. The meat resembles thu flesh of the guinea, and tastes something ! like that ot the squirrel, dhe gentle man, over whoe kitchen the cc-ok alluded to presides, says that betweeu turkey and muskrat he prefers musk- rat all tbe time. The way the Indians used to treat this animal was either to toast ttoar-s wUacosa.' XEWS IX ETUEF. Scarlet fever is scourging Chlco, Cal. P.iris telephone wires run through the sewers. The Italian array nuunbers 3, 2-50, 0) men. "Minnesota built 26 uiiles of rail road lost year. "Cover" is what the English broker calls Margin." Coil (hard) fetches i21 per ton at Helena, Montana. Xew Yoik gets $3Qj,000 a year from feny rents. Filmland lias 27,053 breweries and Germany 2o 9 2. Toe number of deaths at Chicago in 14 was 12,471. The Pai is opera receives $130,000 yeaily from the s:ute. The iirr. comp ete sewing machine was patented iu l4'i JJver 2'i,o"o Swed-s have sealed hi Washington Territory. Pauperism ia Paris is net Increas ing, but climiiiisiiirtg. Between 1-5-to and 13S4. 243 British peers have been created. Kentucky furnishes 36,003 appli cants for federal cllkes. There were 23 Baptist churches bui'.t Iu England ia-t year. Xearly oOoO churn pateat3 hava been isued in this country. Uismarck is ajain ill, and has been ordeied lo leave brrim for rest. Italy exports three times at much fruit as it d.d three yeirs a'o. The late Secretary Folder's etite will not realize above 2 M.uOi). Xew Haven is moving for the Si- tabiishment. uf a public horary Ihe Leivest craze is to collect ail klt.d) and shades of parlor lains. The Kar.sas Senate has forty mem U rs, of whom a.i L:it three are lawyers. A boy mesaiern from Bi'sq is wondertui things in .No if era George A.fred rjwnsea-L batter a as "Grata," is fu,ty-two years i0-J- ! . Some heedles. fellow passed a 50 Confederate note ia iljutreai fora nice I r.li Disfaeii s.t.1 a ma a helped twtce to soup vvul dn.k te.4 and cotfee out of the saucer. Of the i ive.ve prisoners, m the 3aa Diego county, dl , jaJ. lecsatiy, niae vvere Indians. Ti. e aver?-; charge for the passage of a s ,:p tr.r.tilih ;te Suez Canai i3SU ted at about i ') j Xl:r japs,uew I,ave a ,w c.cti,a. j t Uj Ct:,.,eM Ur.;iiJ,s, coffi(jrl3r j u . co ,e53 thwl i ,n cV Tiventy -t w of tie great sugar i LtutatioiiS ti.-j h'a,.d of Cuba ars farj.ed ty tie Jest;:: or-er. X:n lied and e:.;ht.--s:x fno-s-'ir. I c.r . were sh pp .d fiora Isley H rt to Xe v Yoi :t recently. in .dr.-c.-j scaoois ti e ;aa only : taught, an 1 'J.e ledag..e receives : hi teen ten's a u m'.h for teach. eg it. A B-i'.:n D ;t;r is reportel to have been fined for not keeping himself posted on ico iein a.ett'ousof practice. la Frt-:k:.jr:-ou-the-M.ii:i, a city of IV), 000 peop'e. trie receat sale of Cui'iatmas ttees reached ,00! ia num ber. Th(, of , b; . ;l ., ll k(lt- the ear kuii a Tort Xons J ) li.f.int recently w.tu.n a few ,i .... .. . ,-roH?. the examp.e of other T-tces tu U.e aouth, Linco.n county. rue .ia-s !i;uut;is L.egijiaiure r.as refused to allow a wuuiau preacher of Xuntuc Set to perform the marriage Cer- etuony. Florida. Dlastro'is floods bav Inundated many places in the northern provinces of lta:y,a:.d are increasing to analar.n- iag exient. Xe v II -.nrcpSuire has 131 Piesbyte rian chur-hes. :5eveury-iive of them do not sustain prm ment preaching without help. A Jew named Jacob opened the first coifee houie In England, selling U)"e UirrJ, Providence, R. I., has had but one Miyor, Thomas A. Doyie, for the past lo years, ana has just ttartej tua oa another term. A promiueut business man of Daw son ! ta'ej that he and one of his ciexks used 100 pounds of tobacco from April last until Xovember. rr ngtield's, Mais., pubi c library contains OO.O'.O voljmes. The annual fee is now il.but it is proposed to raaite me l.brary wholly free. The ice budge, at Niagara this winter is sa d to be th most massive for manv years, and it is estimated to be over 0) feet thick. Snow shoes are nsed by the mail carriers on some of the ro ites ia Caii forn a, so ijiias.-ab!e have the roads beta made by the sno.v. In M idaja-car no or.e cou'd read sixty years ago, but now therj are nearly rfoo COo on th tiiitn-J who have end. Th aJffitn:strat;on of tae Xareri-berg-t'urth rad vay have resolved to solemnly com -nemorats or; Decenoez, 7c: n:xi the ui; ec-i .ina.versary ot tiie inauguration of te hrs: ratiway ir. n..r,T(.w tuX,-., - . .... V3 " tu ' K1'. rV'r ' 2' of' ".'fr f ! recent.y, l,r uunyiag a COiil' e. Pioh'.bitioi l .-;r:o Jaws along the lower course of the UVal nver, la Eus si a, are sat 1 to have started ao a con sumption of coiog ie. cue l.tile town Usui? abjut 2J bottles a year. Dj.ing his rrcer t visit to Fnak-fort-.r.-Main, Mr. IL M- Staa'.ey had tLe dip'orca of honorary memoersh'.p of the Frnk;crt G?o?rarVcl Sjc ety pleated to hia by i'-J Fxeslext, Dx. w" - a ..ii a Is t
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers