Newspaper Page Text
W. IfEHAJFFEY, Proprietor and Publisher,
'PRINCIPLES, ISTOT MEN.'
Two Dollars per Annum, in Advance.
VOL. V.-NO. 26.
EATON,, OHIO, THURSDAY, AUGUST 4, 1870.
WHOLE NO. 234.
DOROTHY IN THE GARRET.
BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.
Ik the low-raftered earret. etoonire
0refniy over tn Creaking boards.
4 uw jaaiu AJoroiavyoea -aropirqr
v.jiA'W Ua dooty and eorjwtbbed hoards ;
oeeaing some onnaie 01 patents, ma
Far under the tavee, or boned of sage.
Or satchel hone on Its nail amid
The heirlooms of a bygone age.
i w;j "ryvuZ
There la Ihe ancient Dually chest.
There the aixestral cards and hat eh el ;
Dorothy, signing, sinks down to rest.
Fotgwral of patches, sage, and satchel.
tftMaf faces peer from the gloom
Tlr Tfift chimney, where, wl h swifts and reel,
And the long dUarod, dismantled lonm,
VHnOa the old-fashioned sptnnlng-wheol.
She alii It back In the clean swept kitchen,
Ajrt of hei girlhood's little world:
,h Is Hftwa by the window, stitching;
Spindle bnzz.oe, and reel Is whirled
Wit h many a click : on her little stool
She sils. a child, by the open door.
Watching, and dabbling her feet In the pool
&a(f smnahinjs aplllod on the gilded floor.
-r sister' are spinning all day long ;
"Ba her waking sense, th. first sweet warning
Of daylight corn. Is the cheerful song
To the ham of the wheel. In the early moming.
Batijie. the gentle, red-cheeked boy.
On hia way to ichool, peeps In at the gate ;
in neat, wntte ptnaiore, p easea ana coy.
a nana toner oasnrai maw
t under the alms, a oratllce pair.
1 ' 'Togat her thy go, thronah glimmer and gloom:
afa ill coaaee-hack tesar. dreaming there
XJBsytha low-eafterad garret-room ;
The ham of the wheel, and the summer weather.
The heart's first trouble, and love' beginning.
Are all ra bar memo-y linked together ;
And now it Is she herself that Is spinning.
i the bloom of yonth on cheek and l'p,
Mr tno spoaea wita me aasaing pin,
r the thread from the splndle-tlp,
hlns- It ont and wtndlnir it in.
TO ana rro, wm a tunuwuaw ' njau,
Singing she goes, and her heart Is fn 11,
And many a long-drawn golden tbroad
Of fancy is span with the shining wool.
Her father sits In his favorite place.
wn mateg his pipe by the cnunney sise ;
- x Chroogh curling clouds his kindly face
a ' - flotn upnn her with love and pride.
ft, JnHled by the wheel, in the old arm-chair
. a Bar mother Is maatac, cat in lap,
a . .With beaotlfal drooping head, and hair
X IFHt ! under her snow-whi to cap.
8Hri" . rtij- P
One by one, to the grave, to the bridal,
it i They have followed her sisters from the door ;
i Vow they are old, and she is their idol :
fe-aatt ft afi eosaaa hack oa her h?art once more.
In the aatomn dusk the hearth gleams brightly,
' The wbseUs set by the shadowy wall,
nuaUTi m '- ' . lifted lightly.
And In walks Benjle, manly and tall.
HI chair Is placed ; the old man tips
The pitcher, and brings his choicest frnlt ;
Bsajte baaksln the blare, and alps.
And tells his story, and joints his Ante :
-.& sweet the tunes, the talk, the laughter !
They All the honr with a glowing Ada ; ai
Bntawcctcr tho srill. deeo momenta after.
When she la alone by Benjls's side. .
Uat once with angry words they part :
O, then the weary, weary days I
Sver wlth rtlese, wretched heart.
Plying her task, she turns to gaze
Far up the road ; and eatly and late
' She harks for a footstep at t he door,
,. And starts at the gast that swings the gate,
' " And praya for Benjle, who comes no mote.
Her fault ? O Benjlat and could yon steel
Tour thoughts toward one who loved you so t
Solacashe seeks in the whirling wheel,
I-. dnty aad love that lighten woe ;
Striving with labor, not In vain.
To drive away the dull day s dreariness,
Bfeaatne the toll that blunt the pain
Of a deeper grief In the boa y 'a wearlc ess.
afr W-i "
aa rroad, and netted, and spoiled was she :
A word, and a 1 her life la changed 1
His wavering lovetoo easily
la the great gay city grows estranged :
1 One year : she sits In th' old church pew ;
- A rattle, a murmur, O Dorothy I hide
Yoor face and ahut from your aoul the view l
61 S Ts BdijVe leading a wuito-veiled bride 1
'? a How father and mother have long been dead,
cf tt iliall i lm bride aleepe under a cnarchyaxd stone,
ill fcaja tiTt flY man with grizzled head
txwau Waw JU ik long dim aisle alone.
Tain blur to a mist; and Dorothy
Site doubling betwixt the ghost she seems
And the phantom of youth, mora real than she.
That meets her there in that haunt of dreams.
Bright young Dorothy, Idolized daughter,
.ii o ArSJI hy many a youthf ol adorer.
Life. Use a new-risen dawn on the water,
w Shilling an endless viata before her I
aa arid, Maid Dorothy, wrinkled and gray,
sW Msjflsa ander the farm-house earns,
aaiLloalo brief November day
uu vuriu Ul WILUCtCU WtU3 1
Tet faithfulness in the humbrert part
Is better at last than proud success,
Andpatlenca and love In a chastened heart
avfjM pearls more precious than happiness ;
An (Tin that morning When she sh ill wake
jcm ,TZa the spring time Ireshnesa cf youth again.
All trouale will scorn but a flying (like.
And lifelong sorrow a breath on the nana.
BURIED IN AN AVALANCHE.
joixt party we were tiat dray, April
im-r as we tramped along the road
Ton ml around the toot ot the ATI-
tb Moucuiiaa, lyiur- near lnnsprucif.
3nr party conslBted of five students from
Heidelberg, tbirem Gernran, one English,
and one (myself) American. We had
stacMed together duting the long winter
term, and now, with knapsaeks upon our
backs and alpenstocks in our hands, were
-making a walking tour through, some ot
mountains at Switzerland. We were
C qsWTstl frir the little town, or rather village,
of Heiteiswach, a few miles from Inns-
actc, where we intended to pass the night,
- . and on the tollowlng day make the ascent
oftme of the highest peaks in that region.
TtTrt It a tnah flina at a vrto -1. otiio inn onrl
If V MOM J uu m mil an ta ttvu oiuv auu, siuu
now, refreshed and enlivened by the land
lord's' goodr beer, were walking rapidly
alono;, makinK the tir rine; with lively
"Vmrjtea of our coHege songs. The road was
good, ana tno air iresn ana invigorating,
tfKtii six o'clock that evening we
reached our stopping-place for the night
the Gasthaus of Heltelswach.
After an excellent -supper, and having
engaged our guide for the next day, we
sw iiJ' down to a foaming tankard ol beer
d our evening pipe, and listened to the
sMrWS with which our worthy host was
ready and willing to entertain us. He
told of chamois -bunts, of the peasant's
itHf Wtt the Alps, of avalanches, nar
row escapes, and lives lost in the furious
(uKrrma.upon the mountains. One of his
anet dotes interested us greatly.
"About Ave month ago," he said, "a
silt. .fftfPg1' spent the night here, and the
-'- next morning ascended the mountain with
,-fif guide; a snow storm arose-he
was separated from his guide, who
- aarrttirrl for -him a long time in rain.
"MlTBtrtf '' there -earn down a tremen
dotia avalanche, and the guide and a
few peasants whp were living upon the
AlprbuYely escaped with thfeir lives. The
Jt rj niter was never seen again." Then
"6wertng his voice and a8snmingTnys
tasjous air, he added :
"It was a very strange thing, and it is
not tale to talk about him."
" Not safe ! and why not " we asked in
tl58?HrTeplied, " there was something
vrv mvaterious about him : he srxke
havnry little he- was dressed all in
and called mmseu uoctor ana
en the sadden storm fie vanishes ana
"Who, then, do you think hewasr"
" Hush 1" he answered, crossine himself:
" speak not so loud j then, crossing him
self again, he whispered softly, ' Doctor
The three Germans smoked on in
thoughtful silence ; and I was about to
make some more inquiries into the matter
but Tom Robinson, who had no taste
lor the supernatural, stood up, glass in
hand, and broke the silence with
" Then, boys, let's drink to the health
of Doctor Faustus, and go to bed. The
more we sleep to night the better we
shall climb to-morrow."
After this we retired in good order.
The next morning, after an early break
fast, we started off in high spirits on our
way up the mountain, laughing and chat
ting together, and occasionally halting in
silent admiration of the magnificent pan
oramas which were brought to view as
we ascended from one cliff to another.
About noon we had reached a very con
siderable height, and, after passing through
a grove of firs, came in sight of a scene
of devastation lust above ns. It was the
remains of an avalanche, a vast snow slide,
which had come thundering down from
the peak above, and now lay as it resting
from its tremendous leap and gathering
ftesh power. Yet still the huge mass
seemed threatening another rush lrom the
top of the cliff on which it lay, over a
precipice a short distance below, and to
the edge ot which it extended, we stood
watching it for some time, almost expecting-
to see the iile move before our eves.
and hurl itself into the abyss hundreds of
teet deep. Our guide mlormed us that it
would be unsate to attempt to cross over
it, or even to approach very near ; that
this was the avalanche of which our host
had told us the night before. It had come
down from above and lodged here; the
snows of the past winter had been gradu
ally increasing its weight, and now the
weather had become so warm that it might
at any moment elide over the ciin. we
therefore sat down where we were, un
loaded our provisions from the knapsacks,
and proceeded to lunch ; for which meal
our morning's c'Jmb had given us a most
excellent preparation. After lunch, in
tpite of the remonstrances of the guide,
we resolved to go on as near as possible
to the fallen avalanche and so forward
we marched, the guide bringing up the
rear. We bad advanced so far that we
stood close by the side of the snow-white
pile when the guide shouted in a voice of
horror : " Boat! back I it is movir-g !"
Round we wheeled, and double-quick
dashed away from our perilous station,
leaping from rock to rock, tumbling down,
rolling and sliding down to escape the
threatened rash, until at length we gained
our former stopping-place; and then with
panting breath we turned about to witness
the following spectacle :
Over the edge of the cliff were tumb
ling great lumps of snow, and slowly fol
low ing them came the groat heap behind.
Faster and faster it moved, and the cliff
was now hidden by the cloud of snow,
which broke Into pieces at Its edge, and
argrily dashed itself over into the abyss.
At length its velocity became tremendous,
and awestruck we stood speechlessly
gazing upon the terrific scone. Huge
masses of snow were hurled into the atr
the tall firs were snapped in two, and
went whirling along in the general chaos,
amid a noise which reverberated among
the cliffs like the mingling of a thousand
thunder-storms. Our senses were con
fused we became unconscious of the
lapse of time, and, when the whole was
over, we could hardly form an idea of
how long the phenomenon had lasted.
The noise gradually subsided ; while inow
and then a boom down in the valley an
nounced that pieces were still falliDg.
But after a while silence reigned again,
and we began to recover our . scattered
senses, and to notice the wonderful change
before us. Where lay that monster but a
little while before was now nearlv a level
field of broken snow, trunks of broken
trees here and there protruding, and bowl
ders which had resisted the power of the
avalanche. A considerable distance off,
at that part of the avalanche which had
been the last to move, we noticed some
thing which appeared like the ruins of a
building. As it was now perfectly safe to
advance, we went towards this spot and,
on reaching it. there sure enough we
found a broken-down chalet. It was a
small building, although very stoutly
built, and had probably been used by the
chamois-hunters aa a sleeping place. A
larsre rock stood iust behind it. over
which the avalanche of the year before
had passed, completely burying the hut.
That it was not carried along by the snow
this time was due to its situation. Had it
been fifty yards farther down the slope, it
must have been torn up and its shattered
beams hurled over the precipice ; but as
it was, the snow had sua away ana lett it
standing. The roof was stove in, and the
upright beams forced apart in various di
rections, and snow was piled in heaps
around it, completely blocking up the
doorway. Of course we were filled with
curiosity as to what might be inside, and
we waded around it, endeavoring to ob
tain a view of the interior. One at length
succeeded in mounting to the top of the
snow-bank, and peeped in through a rift
in the side ol the buiiaing.
" Anything there ?" we asked.
He turned without speaking, his face
pale and full of horror, and came stagger
ing down to where we were standing.
What is it?" we anxiously inquired.
" A corpse," he whispered, "is sitting
For a moment or two wc stood stseech-
lesa, with a kind of awe at the thought of
that lonely prisoner dying there without
a human being near to hear his call for
help, and now so wonderfully exhumed
lit our presence by the mighty power of
Nature. Bet then, Tom, Who was a med
ical student, and inured to the companion
ship of the.dead, roused us by a proposal
to clear the snow from the door-way and
get inside. After the first shock had
passed away we agreed to his proposition,
and eagerly set to work with sticks and
hands to get away enough snow to allow
us a passage ; it was a long and tedious
labor, but was at length accomplished,
and the entrance stood partly open. With
an indefinable sense of horror we entered
the hut, Tom taking the lead. And there,
sitting upon a rough stool, the head bent
down and resting upon an oaken table,
was a dead body, drei-sed in a suit of black
clothes. It was but very little decayed,
and the features were perfectly distin
guishable so much so that when the
guide looked upon them, he cried out,
Mcin Got. ! come away ! the doctor P
But we immediately began to make prep
arations for removing the body, and
While doing so made several discoveries.
ThMn was'in one corner about a quarter
of a large Swiss cheese in the fireplace
the remains of a small fire upon the
table was an old oil lantern, and I per-
ceived under the table a note book
and the stump of a lead pencil. This
book I instantly took 'possession
of, in hope of finding therein some
particulars about the man; but
there was no time to read it
then, as evening was rapidly coming on.
We made a rough bier of boughs, and,
placing the body upon it, descended the
mountain. On reaching the village the
unusual sight attracted every one, and we
were soon followed by a procession of
men and boys all, however, keeping si
lence ana behaving with cue decorum
We entered the Gasthaus, shutting out
our numerous followers, and deposited
our lilt less burden m one ot the private
Mine host was greatly astonished and
shocked to hear our account. He had
been thinking the matter over all the
Winter, and had come to a firm convic
tion that the man had been something
more than mortal, and had vanished that
day with a grand crash of the elements,
and in a flash of snow instead of fire. The
real fact gr.ve a too sad ending to his mva
terious tale. He sent for the chief men of
the village to come that evening and form
a sort ol coroner s jury, smoke a pipe, and
talk the matter over. Before they ar
rived, I took the first opportunity to ex
amine in private the note-book I had
found. It was written fn English, the
first part of the beck containing scientific-
notes, and the rest being diary, ot which
After supper tbe magistrates and some
of the most prominent burghers assem
bled in the public room ; the doors were
closed, and our party called in to tell our
story. Alter the others had spoken l
came forward and produced the book,
stating where I had found it. Every one
was filled with curiosity, and amid deep
slleuc- I translated to them, as well as I
could, the consents, which were as fol
"Octobeb 31, 18C-, - Buried aJite ! It is
now two days, by my watch, that I have
been entombed under the snow. I have
now become so resigned to my situation
that I can sit down and calmly note in
my diary what has taken place in hopes
that it I die here before I can be rescued
there may at some time be found this rec
ord of who I am and how I died. Hy
name is Peter Fairlle ; I was born in
Edinburgh, and am doctor of medicine. I
have always taken a great interest in
science; a month ago I came to this
country, to make a tour through the Alps,
in search of mineral and botanical curiosi
ties. Day before yesterday I ascent1, ed
this mountain, accompanied by a guide
After we had luncbed, I wandered about,
looking for curiosities, and seeing at a
distance a rock with a very strange bush
growing upon the top of it, I walked
toward it. It was then snowing ; and the
fiakesfell faster and faster, until I thought
I had better return to the guide. I could
not see him, but ran in thedfrgclian in
which I lhmife-f -had- TeTtTum. After
running some distance I stopped and
ghootee!, but no reply ; I had evidently lost
my way and now the snow waa coming
fun .: down, the wind driving it in my
lace anc eyes, l ran about, lor a long
time, quite confused, but could not find
him, nor hear his voice. I strnpose he
niuai have been doing the same in search
of uieTuilrl tUai we had gone farther and
farther from each otEerr - I hopeihe poor
fellow has escaped my fate. After blindly
wandering about for a considerable time,
1 came near a small building standing
under the lee of a large rock. Toward this
I hastened, and, as I approached it, I
saw dimly through tbe drifting snow the
figures ef two men running at full speed
down the mountain. Just then there
came a noise of thunder, and, locking up, I
beheld an avalanche tearing down toward
me. In my terror I dashed into the hut,
when, with a crash which shook every
beam and partly stove in the rool, the
avalanche passed over it, and I was in
total darkness. After recovering from my
first shock, I endeavored in every possible
way to get out, bat in vain ; snow is on
every side and above me, through which
I can make no progress. Several times I
have been nearly smothered, and now
have given up the attempt, and resigned
myself tb my fate. Perhaps, when I am
missed, the villagers may come up and
dig me out no, that is hopeless they
know not where 1 am At all events, I
hope that, if I die here, I can meet death
as a Christian should. I leave no wife
nor family to mourn for me, and am-only
sad to think of dying without having ac
complished any great work. Still, let me
see what hope of life I have, and take an
inventory ot my resources. I have found
an old lantern, luckily filled with oil, by
the dim light of which I now write. This
I must use sparingly, for several reasons,
viz. : I may by the combustion reduce the
supply of oxygen, which is so precious to
me here ; I must not waste my oil ; Y
must not increase mv supply of carbonic
acid by the flame, i will, therefore, live
in the dark, except when I wish to
write. I have found a large Swiss
cheese, the only article of food in the hut.
Can I support life with this? Let me
see. Caseine chiefly, some albumen, oily
particles, etc. all digestible. Water I
can get from the snow. Well, I mut
make the experiment, and I will note my
symptoms ; then, if I die, and this record
should ever be found, I shall have achiev
ed something in giving to the profession
the physiological action of cheese as an
exclusive diet. I cannot distinguish night
from day ; my only method is to count
the hours by my watch. Happily it is a
good one, and not likely to stop. Now I
will put out my lantern, and make my
bed upon the floor, with my cloak for a
coverlet. 1 have supped eff the cheese,
and like it.
"Novembkb 1st. I have had a good
sleep. It is not cold here, as one would
imagine ; I do not suffer in the lea&t.
Neither do I suffer for want of air, as I
had expected. It must be that the air
permeates between the particles of snow
in sufficient quantity to keep me alive.
Made my breaktast of cheese this morn-
Jug, and enjoyed it. It ceems to be easily
digested, i am getting so nsea to tuo
darkness, that I can-perceive the octlines
of everything about me. I wonder if I
could make a tunnel through the snow,
gradually ascending until I reach the sur
face. That would be digging a hole
beginning at the bottom a feat I have
never yet known to be accomplished. I
will try it, however, and it will give me
" Four o'clock, P. if Have made my
dinner off a large slice ot cheese. It is
really a very good article of diet. Have
been digging my tunnel and carrying the
snow into the house. I commenced at
the door, and proceeded but a few ieet.
It is a slow process, as my shovel con
sists of a piece ot bark torn from the wall
of the but. I mean tbe luimel to be
about four feet tquaro ; but how far I can
get with it is a question, as I am puzzled
about the refuse snow. Find I cn tread
down a good deal of it, so as to reduce the
mass beneath. Must leave off writing
now, aa I am suffering from a sick head
ache, probably due to my hearty dinner.
" November SrZ This is the fifth day
of my imprisonment. My appetite seems
to be unimpaired ; on the contrary, rather
increased; but I am beginning to lose my
digestive powers. I ilready dislike the
cheese, and suffer a gtod deal from sick
headache and palpitation of the heart.
My tunnel is now about fifteen feet in
length, and I have begun to make it
ascend. Find 1 csn displace the snow be
neath by striking my fcet down forcibly ;
then I fill up the holea with snow from
above. It is horribly ilow work, and the
ascent has to be so gradual that I fear I
shall never accomplish it. Still it gives
me exercise and occtpation, which re
lieves somewhat thia awful lonesome
ness. "Sixth Day. Have just managed to
worry down a slice of cheese for break
fast. Am still hungry, and feel rather
weak. I fear my hari work and priva
tions are beginning to tell upon me.
" Fwr, p. m. Had to give up work in
the tunnel for to-day, m my strength has
given out. Have only made about four
feet more in length and one in ascent.
Am getting discoursged. Am still hungry,
although I feel full of this detestable
cheese. Can feel that I am fist losing
flesh as well as strength.
"Sbvkkth Day. To day, at the risk
of suffcxuiting mjself with smoke, I made
a little pile of chips cut from the walla
and table, lighted them with my flint and
steel, and toasted some cheese. The fixe
did not burn very well, and I soon had to
extinguish it ; but I contrived to toast a
slice. It was smoky, and not very palata
ble, but still was a sort of variety, and I
could eat it. It is all I have eaten to-day,
and I am weak, tired, and hungry, to say
nothing of heartburn and headache. Had
only strength to work about an hour in
the tunnel. If I thought that I was near
the surface, I would try to struggle up
ward and reach it or perish.
" Nirth Day. Yesterday made a furi
ous attempt to dig my way upward, cast
ing the snow behind me ; but all in vain ;
after an hour's strggle I fell back, faint
ing, into the snow beneath, and tbe result
is that I have still more to do in clearing
and trampling down the debris. I thought
at one lime of lying there until death over
took me ; but the love of life at length
prevailed, and I crawled back here. Am
resolved not to give up until absolutely
overcome. The cheese has become loath
some to me ; I was nauseated this morning
when I attempted to eat it. Have eaten
nothing to-day, and but a small piece yes
terday. With the darkness, the eolitude,
bad air, and poor nourishment, I am fast
wearing away. Could not sleep last night
except by snatches, and was continually
waking with horrid dreams. It was near
morning when, during a short nap, I
seemed to myself to wake and go to my
tunnel to work. Then I heard voices
above me, and I shouted and strug
gled. 1 was answered, and heard
them digging dotuav to meet me. I
struggled harder and harder, and at
length was seized and dragged up
into the open air. Just as I was giving
vent to my feelings by a loud 1 huzza t' I
again woke to darkness and solitude in
this worse than prison. The revulsion
was so great that I burst into tears and
wept like a child, and it was a long time
before I could command myself. I wish
there was some living thing with me, if it
were only a fly or spider ; but, alas i 1 am
not so fortunate. I pray aloud, repeat
texts from the Bible, and endeavor to
maintain a calm and Christian spirit.
"Eleventh. Day. Suffered horribly
from hunger yesterday, but could not
touch the cheese. To-dayin my agony,
made a desperate at empt, and worried
down a considerable quantity. It does
not satisfy my hunger ; it is not digested,
but lies in my stomach like a stone. My
headache is so severs that. I can only
write a little at a time. Am too weak to
work any more.
" Thirteenth Day. Remember but
litUe of yesterday. Think I must have
been delirious. My head feels very light,
and I write with difficulty. Do not sleep,
but frequenti f faint away.
" Fourteenth Day. I cannot live
much Tonger. Too weak to write." (Here,
the writing became almost illegible and
fragmentary.) "Last will test Pet
McPherson attorney Edin. Am very
Here the writing stopped. The listen
ers drew a long breath, and for a few mo
ments not a word was spoken as we sat
wondering over the strange late ot film
whose earthly remains were lying in the
next room. Tom, who had been taking
notes during the reading, was the first to
break the silence.
" This account," said he, " would be of
great interest to a physiologist. I have
come to the conclusion that a healthy
man, under good hygienic surroundings,
might maintain his existence for twenty
days or more upon cheese alone, since
this man, in close confinement,and in want
of light and fresh air, has by his record
lived nearly jimrteen days, now in the
world he c.;u!d have lived so Jong under
the circumstances is a womier."
" Ah, said my host, meditatively, while
filing his pipe, " but he was a Scotch
man 1 '
On the following day the funeral took
place, and we deposited the remains In
the public tomb until nonce could be
given to the attorney whose name waa
mentioned in the diary. After we had
each taken a copy of the manuscript, we
Iilaced it among the archives of the vil
age, where it still is preserved as a cu
riosity, and where any inquisitive traveler
may obtain access to it to thia day.
The Young Men's Christian Associa
tion in Warren, Pa., (in the oil region),
has been sorely tried by finding nothing
to do. They had resolved to visit the
prisoners in the jail ; but, when they ap
plied for admittance on their merciful er
rand, they found the jail was empty. They
then resolved to relieve the distressed ;
but, when they advertised for applicants
for their charity, none responded. The
town has a population of 2,500, and seven
churches. Grog-shops are unknown, and
all the inhabitants are either Christians
or church-going people.
The Cincinnati limes says: "About
three years since a printer in the Volks
Matt office, an Intimate friend of Chas.
Boehier, who jumped from a third story
window and killed himself, Saturday
morning. dreamtl ho saw a hearse bear
ing a coffin on which was plainly inscrib
ed, ' Charles Boehler, July 10. He. re
vealed the dream to his fellow-workmen
at the time, bat no attention was paid to
it until the burial of Boehler yesterday
(the 10th of July) revived it.
FACTS AND FIGURES.
Boston claims 220,751 inhabitants.
A Flestins Show A yacht race.
Cincinnati has the second highest spire
In 1869, 158 persons were killed by
crocodiles in Java,
It costs New York $2,000,000 annually
to have its streets sprinkled.
The Lc-ipsig Oartenlaiu.be claims a circu
lation of 880,000 copies.
Thbkb are 13,814 draft and 2,028 driv
ing horses in Brooklyn.
A Philadelphia paper has for its edit
orial staff a father and his five sons.
There were 2,136 marriages solemnized
in St. Louis during the last year.
A New York Judge and jury recently
spent a day on a case involving fifteen
Cathebtne Bbrcher is now 70, Alice
Cary 48, Fanny Fern 60, and Harriet
Beecher Stowe 56.
A " L'.fe of Abraham Lincoln," in the
Hawaiian language, has been published
A widow lady in Durham, Me., has
worked out her road tax tar this year
with a horse and cart.
The following sentence contains all the
letters in the alphabet : " John quickly
extemporized five tow bags."
A man weighing one hundred and fifty
pounds contains one hundred and eleven
pounds of water in his tissues.
In Connecticut a young lady celebrated
the Fourth-by leading out her pet poodle
dyed in the national colors.
" We all owe something to our conn
try," said the man who went abroad with
out having paid his income tax.
The people of Cleveland ride in 8,455
private carriages, carry 2,732 watches,
and are supplied with music by 1,310
A Maine farmer lately found three
sheep which he lost last fall, in the woods,
doing well, having lived all winter on
The original Declaration of Indepen
dence, now in the Patent Office at Wash
ington, is nearly illegible from the fading
of the Ink.
The Iowa Homestead, in an article on
the " Wastes of the Farm," avers that the
150,000 agriculturists of the Stale "waste"
An English swell has recently given a
fashionable breakfast to a party of other
swells, which cost the very moderate sum
An analysis shows that cotton seed is a
highly concantrateid food, and is richer in
flesh producing elements than corn, but
somewhat interior to corn as a fat pro
ducer. A man in Romford, Me, has a dog that
produces a fleece six inches long every
year. The material is said to make mit
tens that wear like iron.
The number of gods of China has now
reached 80,000. Tft Chinese have only
one Sanday in tbe year, and that is New
The Supreme Court of Georgia has de
cided that a bachelor is a family, that he
is the head of it, and as such entitled to
the privileges of the Homestead act.
The patronage at the disposal of the
Collector of New York, distributed
through the several departments of the
Custom House, is enjoyed by 7(36 em
ployees. A Hindoo cabby, before mounting box
and taking the reins and whip in hand,
always first formally prays that his driv
ing may be to the glory of his God
It Costs a Massachusetts youth $50 to
celebrate our nation's birthday, by per
ambulating the streets and throwing fire
crackers and torpedoes at unprotected
A French peasant named Sarin, who
had never been out of his native village,
has invented a machine for spinning
hemp, by means of which a great saving
of labor is accomplished.
There is to be erected immediately at
Albany, N. Y., a building which will
cover ninety- si x freight cars. W hen com
pleted It will be one of the largest, if not
the largest, car-building en this continent.
The members of the Methodist Churches
in the world now number about three and
half millions; ministers, 10,048; local
preachers, 57,934; Sunday school schol
ars, nearly four millions.
An eagle was lately shot near Aub urn
N. Y., which measured twelve feet from
tip to tip Of its outspread wings. When
discovered he was perched on a fence in
tently watching a small boy picking straw
berries. A Norwegian vessel, which was given
up for lost and abandoned by its crew last
October, after nine months' tossing on the
ocean was discovered recently on the
English coast, with its cargo safe and in
A Milwaukee German, named Rudolph
Metzer, while moving a dining table dis
covered $350 in half eagles In one of the
legs. A hole had been bored to admit the
coin. He purchased the table some eight
years ago of a second-hand dealer.
The Philadelphia Post says ; " One of
the most brilliant writers in the city, now
the editor of one of onr best kno,n
papers, some ten years ago used to write
the sermons of a clergyman In West Phil
adelphia, for five dollars a week."
At a recent railway accident to excur
sionists, in England, the dead end wound
ed were plundered indiscriminately. The
tempting display of rings, watches,
overcame honesty, and even the police
men lent the wreckers their aid m dis
poning the dead.
A French dwarf, fifty-five years old,
with a beard which reaches to his feet,
bat being bald, and having but one arm,
proposes to marry any young girl of
about twenty, who is pretty and good
tempered. The consideration is, that the
dwarf possesses a fortune of about $400,
000. On the William Connelly farm, eight
miles south of Bowling Green, Ind, is an
apple tree which is ten feet in circumfer
ence, being about three feet four inches
In diameter. It is twenty-nine years old,
and stands in a large walnut stump, most
ly sound yet.
Many years ago, and before. Landseer
was as renowned as he now is, he was
very poor ; and it is said that he one day
paid 1 sterling for the body of a dead
lion, from which he made a most success
ful pietare, called, " A Lion Attacked by
a Serpent." He was fortunate enough to
find a purchaser immediately, and this
was .t he commencement of his fame. The
dead lion turned Landseer into a living
THE WIND AND THE KITE.
BY MARY BEDFORD.
A little boy bad been very bury for a
good many days unking a beautiful kite.
It was made ot stiips of thin wood neatly
fastened together and corered with pretty
colored paper. It had a fine, long tail
made of bobs of paper.
When it was all done, the little boy
looked at it with pride and delight. Then
he took a ball of string and tied one end
of it securely to the kite. " Now," said
he, " you are all ready to fly. If it is a
windy day to-morrow, I will take you out
in the field, and we shall see bow high up
in the air you will go " The Kite all this
time felt a little bewildered. He had been
made so lately that he was not quite sure
what his part was to be in life, what should
be his object, and What was expected of
him. But the last words of the little boy
gave him a new idea.
" Oh," thought he, "so I am to fly in
the air, to be sure. It is strange I never
thought of that before. And this string,
I suppose, is to prevent my flying away
from my master. I don't know about this
string ; however, we shall see."
The next morning it was very windy.
The trees waved their branches wildly
and the window sashes rattled.
" This is just the day to try my new
kite," said the little boy as he took it from
the drawer and estrried it into the field
behind the house.
This was the first time the Kite had
been out of doors, and he looked about
him with some curiosity. He thought he.
should like to fly up into the blue sky, it
looked so sunny and bright. Just as-the
little boy began to unwind his kite-string,
bis mother called him from the back door
to draw some water.
" I'm a comin'," said 'he, rather discon
solately, and he laid his kite on the top of
the fence, first carefully tying the string
to the post, and ran into the house.
The Kite was left alone, and he looked
about him and began to feel an irresistible
desire to fly up in the air.
"Who Is tbis pulling me?" said he.
" Why do I flutter upand down sot"
" It is I," said the Wind. " Come with
me. We will have merry times together.
You shall ride on my back, and we'll go
round the world."
" Bat I am tied to the fence," said tho
" Never mind," skid the Wind, " come
with me. The string will easily break if
fou will only raise yourself a little. Come !
will -show you many wonderful things.
We will fly to the white clouds, and have
merry games together in the air. You
ought to learn something of the world."
" But my master who made me, what
will he say when he comes back and finds
me gone t '
"Oh, that is no matter," said the Wind.
" He can make another any day."
And so the Wind coaxed the Kite, and
kept pulling it a little at one corner, and
twitching it at the other, so that finally
the Kite, who was weak and light, and had
no aoha principles, allowed himself to be
Then the Wind made one tremendous
effort, and snap went the string, and up
went the Kite on the back of the boister
ous, frolicksome Wind. I
" Hurrah !" shouted the Wind ! M Here
we go ! There' s a bird let's chase him.
Now, down we go, shaking the tree tops.
Let us slam that blind. Kip the slates
off the roof t Come, my friend ; I must
not leave you sticking in that chimney.
Come along I" '
" Where are yen taking me t" asked the
poor Kite, bewildered and out of breath.
But the Wind rushed on, never mind
ing his questions, sweeping him on over
trees ana houses, woods and fields, now
low on tbe ground, now high in the atr,
whisking him hither and thither, wherev
er he happened to fancy.
They came to a village where a little fire
was creeping unnoticed from a shed,
"Hullo r shouted the Wind. " We'll
have some fun here !" and down he 'went,
fanning the fire, so that the writhing ,
flames crept up and licked the wails of the
Still the Wind flung himself against the
fire, spreading the flames and brightening
the blaze every moment. boon the cot
tage was on fire, and then the next house,
and by and by the whole village. The
poor Kite was dragged against his will
close to the flames.
" Oh, I shall be burnt up 1" he cried.
" Save me I save me f
"Hezza!" shouted the Wind, delight
ing in. the hot breath of the roaring line.
The Kite felt his beautiful floating tail
burning. In another moment he would
have been lost, when "Come 1" said the
Wind. "We are off again !" and for that
time he was out of danger, though his
beauty was ruined for ever. Then they
came to the city.
"There is a boy," said the Wind. " Off
with his cap into tbe mud. Catch that
lady's veil. Here it is I we'll land it in
The Kite glanced down and saw the
poor boy fishing for his cap in the mud
puddle, and caught a glimpse of a police
man climbing the tree tor the veil while
the lady waited below. But he had
scarcely a moment to look, for the Wind
hurried him off again. The next moment
he found himself sticking to the telegraph-wire
and the Wind rushing away
with a mocking laugh.
"Stop!" cried the unfortunate Kite.
" Help me down from here. Don't leave
me in this way. I would never have
come with you if I had known you would
have treated me so."
"Ha! ha!" laughed the mischievous
Wind as he whisked round the corner.
There hung the poor Kite, torn and
scorched. And there he hung for many
weeks and months. Sometimes he tola
his sad story to the birds who lighted on
the wires, but they were all so busy with
their own anairs that they coma no. avop
to listen to him long.
He often thought of bin little master,
and wished he had not left the only per
son who seemed to care for him. But he
knew it was too late to think of that.
The Wind came every day and pulled
the poor, tattered Kite, tearing off little
bits of paper, that would fall flutttnng
down to the street and be trodden into
the mud ; but he never released him, and
the Kite still clung to the wire, and there
you might have seen him any day if yon
had taken tho trouble to look, a warning
to all who are easily tempted and led
astray. Children's Hour;
Neab the grave of Washington Irving,
atTariytown, N. Y., is being built the
most costiy mausoleum tn America. It u
over the grave of a ''prominent New
York rjfflpiaV' nd will cost $100,000. It
will be entirely of marble, and sculpture
is new being wrought for it in Italy.
as Nft iofiftj. :,;.. . '. r'n ,
in - '
Learning to Swim.
Every boy should learn to swim. It is
both a pleasant and a healthful sport;
and in these days when so many travel
over sea or ocean, or arc carried from one
place to another along our ooaats, or up
and down onr rivers, not a few sometimes
suddenly find themselves in the water,
when life depends upon reaching a bale
of cotton, or a plank, or something else
It is estimated that from fifty to a hun
dred persons annually lose their lives In
the United States alone for lack of know
ing how to swim. Boys should learn
when they are young, and this is the way
to begin :
A boy who cannot swim should never
go into the water without the consent of
his parents. They always know what is
best. Neither should he go except in
company with some swimmer ; and, most
important of all, he should never venture
in whero the water is beyond his depth,
or where there may be a deep hole either
above or below the place, that he may be
carried into before he.is aware of it.
The best time to go" in is in the morn
ing. Suppose the boy undressed, his clothes
neatly laid away on the bank of the river
or pond, and he just ready to go in. Now
standing where you are, jump in where
the water is a foot or a foot and a half
deep. It will seem cold at first, bnt it is
altogether better than to wade in, because
wading in drives the blood upward to the
head, which is liable to work serious in
j nry. After yon are wet all over, then wade
quickly In tdl yon stand with the water
up to your waist, then give a spring to
ward the shore, at the same time striking
ont with yoor bands sideways to your
body and kicking with all your might.
The first time trying you. will Ink to
the bottom, and if your feet are not under
you, your head will go under water ; but
you must scramble up quickly and go
back and try again. The next time, per
haps, you .will go several feet without
touching tbe bottom your first success
In learning to swim. Keep repeating this,
always wading in, and then striking ont
for the shore.
Of course, all this will weary you ant"
put you out of breath, so yon should not
stay m ever fifteen minutes at the long
est. It is very important to remember
this. If you stay fn longer and get tired
and cold, yon will he uncomfortable the
remainder of the day ; besides, if you
continue tbe practice of staying in the
water too long for any length of time,
your health will be permanently Injured.
When yon come out of the water, wipe
your body until it is thoroughly dry, and
when dressed, commence active exercise
After yon have learned so that yon can
wade ont a rod or more from the shore
and then swim to it, you can try swim
ming down stream if you are in a river,
or alongside the shore if yon are in a
pond ; but you should always remember
that yon will get tired in a tew minutes ;
and should you "lose your wind," aa the
boys say, when you are in deep water,
yon will be to great danger of drowning.
When yon have learned to swim, tbon
you can learn to float. Go in where tho
water is np to your arms, and where it
grows more shallow instead of deeper as
yon go down the stream. Then stand
with yeairiace-np tho river, and gently
fall over backward, with your hands at the
same time eroased under the mail of your
back; giving a good spring with your feet
that will send your body up to the top of
the water. You will go ander in a second,
but hold your breath and keep your mouth
shut till you spring up as your feet touch
the bottom, and then try it again. The
next time you will do better, and with
constant practice yon will soon have such
confidence and such skill that when yon
are tired swimming,' you can tern over,
cross yor arms under yoor back, and
with little else than your now out of
water, float until yon are rested and ready
Three thinrrs should alwavs be remem
bered. Never venture into deep water
until vou have learned to swim tetti, and
never "then unless it is necessary. There
is sis much fun in swimming where the
water is four feet deep as where it is ten,
and far more safety. Never stay in after
you are cold or chilly, or after you are
tired. And last, twice a day is enough lor
tbe warmest weather, and the most favor
able circumstances ; once a day when It is
cold, or yon live a considerable distance
from the water. Hearth and Home.
Jehial Slab's Remarks.
Salt makes rur squirm Just in propor
tion as we are sore.
If you are of great value expect great
trials and croasM. It always takes the
grindstone to develop the full worth of
Some of as speak words that touch
roughly the character or business of our
neighbors and think little of it, when the
mere thought of a tone on Sunday quicker
than Oid Hundred gives ns a regular
electric shock of horror.
Mentally, aa well as physically, food
can be too concentrated. The bread is
always test for health that contains bran
enough to digest it ewily.
Question political fame very closely,
my friend, ere you commit a good name
to its keeping.
I am still disposed to think that, on a
pinch, politicians can repent and be
saved. But I confess I find very few on
the Way, as yet, and fewer still who are
satisfied they have got far enough along
to be able to indulge a lively hope.'
I sometimes think poverty was brought
into the world for the special benefit of
the lay man ; on the principle, yon
know, that a mud-turtle always goes fast
er if he has a coal of Are on his back.
H ave you been an fortunate t And would
you really like to test the sympathy of the
: . t ... V.. Vi.s it i -e-.-n vnn trin wurnipst
most cheering words f Ask him to loan
you a dollar.
Here Is a man. You can. draw knowl
edge from him just as you draw water
from a well. As often as a bucketful
comes up another comes to. Do yon know
why He has. only learned the secrets of
mental well-digging gone down till he
tapped a vein running out into the bound
less revelations of nature. And now he
has set to work and walled and curbed the
way to it. That is all.
But here is another. Draw from him
at all largely and you exhaust him. He is
a eastern a reservoir only stoned and
smoothly mortared up before getting down
to a stogie veto of living water. Every
emergency exhausts him, and then tbere
is no other way but to shut down the
cover, adjust the spout, and court another
drizzling book-rain to recuperate with.
M aine has thirty-two hundred square
miles of lake surface.