Newspaper Page Text
THE MGm & INTELLIGENCER
$1.50 PER ANN UM. 100,000 SMELTER TENTS 10,000 Wall and other Large Tents. 10,000 PIECES NEW AND OLD CLOTHING. JVEIV AND OLD BLANKETS! NEW BLANKETS— Heavy— ss PEII PAIR. NEW SHIRTS & DRAWERS, HEAVY SOCKS and 15HOGANS! NEW PAMTS, At $3 Pei! Pair! Men’s and Boy’s Jackets, $2 Each! OLD BLANKETS, Shirts, Drawers, Pants, COATS AND OVERCOATS! ALSO, 100,000 SHELTER TENTS, suita ble for, shoe-makers, mechanics and housekeepers for different purposes.— These tents arc in excellent order, being nearly new. The Wall or larger Tents are also in excellent order, suitable for wagon-covers, awnings, window cloths and many other purposes. All persons wishing to purchase any of the above articles are requested to call and examine them. POS. SiLIaSS &OW, Wholesale and Retail. JOSHUA HORNER, Corner Chew and Stirling streets, decß Baltimore, Md. *3?.. lE&I'MZIFLIEL', Miuiuliu-tuit-r of Tin and Sheet Iron Ware, Main sired , nearly opposite Post office , BS& ASla 3KB. rrllE subscriber having located in Bel Air, J respootfull v- informs the citizens of Harford comity that he will manufacture and keep on wvoi -y rorict J Ul’ TIN WARE AND HOUSEKEEPING ARTICLES, Of a superior quality, which he will sell on reasonable terms ROOFING and SPOUTING attended to, in the best manner mid with despatch. j!W* FURNACES and FIRE-PLACE STOVES put up and repaired at short notice. JSSf- MILK CANS of superior quality manu factured to order. Give )1 a Call I T. KERR, juns Main street, Pel Air. new soois. tpilE undersigned have just received a ' large and well selected stock of Goods suitable for the season. They are con stantly making up the neatest work, and the newest and most fashionable slvls of fp BONNETS, m j. - ' or -the Pall & Winter. “'■A’ To which they invite the attention of the citizens of the town and the sur rounding country. They also desire an occasional cull from their Baltimore friends. when they want something of ex tra style and finish, ns they arc aware that the undersigned can and will take pleasure iu putting up work of that description. in addition to all styles of Bonnets, they keep constantly on hand a variety of LADIES’ AND GENTLEMEN’S MAM W.A $ fia- Su oh as Ribbons, Laces, Gloves, Hosiery, .-■ispenders, and many other articles in il.e Notion line. Thankful for the liberal patronage here tofore given thefirm, they expect by strict attention to business to merit its continu ance. M. J. WRIGHT & MITCHELL, Washington street, two doors north of the Railroad, and next door to Nixon’s Hotel, Havre-dk-Giiace. scp2s RATS MADE TO COME OUT OF THEIR HOLES TO DIE! STONEBIIAKEIi’S Hat, Roach and Mouse EXTERMINATOR! WE invite the attention of the public to the above preparation, as being one of the most effectual preparations ever introduced for the destruction of the above vermin. We war rant it a DEAD SHOT FOR RATS! Try it— only 25 cents a box. jsst"For sale by A. IT. GREENFIELD. Ag’t, comer Main street and Port Deposit avenue, licl Air, Md. sepls-6m Stray Sow, CAME to the farm ol the subscriber, on the first of December, a while SOW ; no mark in the ear;.a cut on the hind leg. The owner is hereby notified to conic forward, prove property, pay charges and take her away. OTHO W. MAGNESS, Near Eminorton, Harford Co., Md. dec29-3t /CIRCULARS, CARDS, IU-INKS, IIAND- E BILLS, Aw., neatly printed at this elite*, “LET US CLING TO THE CONSTITUTION AS THE MARINER CLINGS TO THE LAST PLANK WHEN THE NIGHT AND TEMPEST CLOSE ARODND HIM.” THE ms AND IHTELU3F.NGER IB PUBLISHED 1 EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, BY A. "W. BAT JViAAISr, AT One Dollar and Fifty Cents Per Annum , IN ADVANCE, OTHERWISE TWO DOLLARS WILL RE CHARGED. RATES OF ADVERTISING. One square, (eight lines or less,) three inser ! lions, SI.OO. Each subsequent insertion 25 cts. i the square three months, Sb.oo; Six months, $5.00; Twelvemonths, SS.OO. Business cards of six lines or less, §5 a year. No subscription taken for less than n year. r m-roaiuwi ■— acirafr—■—i^—— poetical. THE FOOTSTEPS OF DECAY. [Tlie foilowing is a translation front an an i dent Spanish Poem, which, says the Dlinhuryh It,-view, is surpassed by nothing With which we i are acquainted iu the Spanish language, except | llm ‘‘Ode of Louis do Leon.”] I Oh I let the soul its slumbers break, Aiousc its senses and awake, | To see bow soon Life, iu its glories glides away, And the stern footsteps of decay Come stealing on. And while W’o view the rolling tide, Down which our flowing minutes glide | 1 j Away so fast, Let us the present hour employ, I Amt deem each future dream a joy ■j Already past. Let no vain hope deceive the mind— No happier let us hope to find To-morrow than to-day. Our golden dreams of yore were bright, Like them the present shall delight— Like them decay. Our lives like hasting streams must be, That into one engulphing sea Are doomed to fall— The sea of death whose waves roll on O'er king and kingdom, crown and throne, And swallow till. Alike the river's lordly tide, Alike the humble rivulets glide i To that sad wave; Death levels poverty aud pride, And licit died poor sleep side by side Within the grave. Our birth is but a starting piaoe ; Life is the running ot the race, And death the goal; There all (mr alitlerine; toys are brought— The path alone, of ail unsought, j Is found of all. ! See then how poor and little worth Are .ill these glittering toys of earth I i That lute us here I Dreams of it sleep that death must break, ' Alas ! beture it bids us wake, We disappear. Long ere the damp of earth can blight, ’ The cheek's pare glow of red aud while Hus passed uwuy. Youth smiled and all was Heavenly fair— Age came and laid bis Huger there And where are they ? Whore is Hie strength that spurued decay, The stop that roved so light and gay, The heart's blithe tone ? The heart is gone, the step is slow, And joy grows wearisome and wo ! | When age comes on, I IpHSCClljUUflttS. 'J in Tuundir storm. f I never was a man of feeble courage.— • There are but few scenes of either human i or elemental strife upon which I have not • looked with a brow of daring. I have ■ stood in front i f battle, when the whirl l wind was rending oaks from their rocky i cliffs, and scattering them to the clouds. ; I have seen these things with a swilling j > soul that knew not of dang r; but there; I is something in (ho thunder's voice that makes me tremble like a child. 1 have tried to overcome this unmanly weakness t have called perdi to my aid ; I have , even sought to strengthen moral courage i iu the lessons of philosophy, hut it avails; mo nothing. At tho first low moaning of! . tint distant cloud, my heart shrinks, quiv-! t ers Mid dies within me. My dread of thunder had its origin in an incident that occurred when 1 was a | boy of ten years. I. had a cousin, a girl f| of tho same age of myself, who had been II the constant companion of my childhood. Strange that after tho lapse of so many years, that countenance should be so fa • miliar to me. I can see the bright young creature, her eyes fla-hing like a heauti | ful gem, her free locks streaming as with I joy upon tho rising gale ; her check glow ing like a tuhy through transparent snow. Her voice had the melody and joyousness of it bird’s, and when she bounded over . the wooodlund hill, or fresh green valley. •! shouting a glad answer to every voice of ■ nature-, and clapping her little hands, in the very eestaey of young existence, she looked as if breaking away, a free nighf -1 ingale from the earth, and g“iug off whore all things are beautiful and happy like her. It was morning in tl ■ middle of August, j The little girl had been passing some days 1 at. my father’s bouse, and she was now to j return homo Her path lay across the , fields, and I gladly became the companion . of bcrw.dk. I never knew a summer morning m re beautiful and still. Only one cloud was visible, and that seemed us pure, and white, and peaceful, as if it had been the incense smoko of some burning j censer of the skies. Tlie leaves hung si lent in the woods, the waters in the bay forgot their undulations, t.lse flowers were PEL AIR, Ml). FRIDAY MORNING. JANUARY 26, 1866. I ; bending their heads as if dreaming of the rainbow and dew, and tho atmosphere was j such a soft and luxurious sweeetness that ; it seemed a cloud of roses scattered down I by the hand of a Peri, from the far-off garden of Paradise. The green earth and > | blue waters lay abroad in their boundless ness, and the peaceful sky hung over them. The little creature at my side was in a ’ delirium of happiness, aod her sweet voice came ringing out upon tho air as often as she heard the note of some favorite bird or found some strange and lovely flower in her frolic wanderings. Tho unbroken and almost supernatural tranquility of the clay lasted until noon. Then, for the first time, indications of an approaching tempest were manifest. Over.the summit of a mountain, at the distance of about a mile, the folds of a large cloud became suddenly visible, and at the same instant a hollow roar came down on the winds as if it had been tho sound of waves in it rocky cavern. The clouds rolled on like a banner unfolded upon the air, but still | tho atmosphere was as calm and the waves ! as motionless as before, and there was not even a quiver upon the sleeping waters , j to toll of tho hurricane. The tempest was ; inevitable. As the only resort, we fled to | a mighty oak that, stood at, tho foot of the 1 precipice. Here we remained and gazed j breathlessly upon the clouds marshaling - themselves like bloody giants in the sky. j The thunder was not frequent, but every : burst was so fearful that the young crea- I turc who stood beside me, shut her eyes j convulsively,clung with desperate strengt h to my arm, shrieked as if her heart would break. In a few minutes the storm was upon us. During tho height of its fury, the little girl lifted her fingers toward the precipice that, towered over us —I looked and saw an amethystine peak tho next mo ment the clouds opened and the mountain tattered to its foundation ; a roar like tho groan of the universe filled the air, and [ felt myself blinded and thrown I knew not whither. How long I remained insensible I can not tell; but when consciousness return ed, tho violence of the tempest was aba ting, tbe roaring of winds was dying on the tree-tops, and the deep tor.es of the thunder-cloud came in fainting murmurs from the eastern hills. I rose and looked tremblingly and almost deliriously around She was (Imre, the dear idol of my infant love stretched out ou tbe earth. After a moment of irresolution, I went upnnd look ed upon her. Tho handkerchief upon her neck was slightly rent. A single rent, and a single dark spot upon her bosom, told where the pathway of death had been. At first. I clasped her to my breast with a cry of agony, and then laid her down and gazed upon her face with almost, fold ings of calmness. Her bright disheveled ringlets clustered around her brow; the look of terror had faded from her lips, and infant smiles were pictured there; the red rose tinge upon her cheek was l-.vely as in life, and 1 pressed it to my own; tho fountains of tears were opened, and 1 wept as if my heart was water. 1 have but a dim recollection of what follows ; I know that I remained weeping motionless till the coming twilight, aud I was taken tenderly by the hand aud led away where I saw the countenance of parents and sis ters. Many years have gone by on the wings of light and shadows, but the scene I have portrayed still comes over me with a terri ble distinctness. The oak yet stands at the base of tho precipice, but its limbs arc black and dead, and tho hollow trunk looks upward to tho sky—as if calling to the clouds for drink —as an emblem of de cay. Guo year ago I visited tho spot, and ; the thoughts of bygone years came mourn | fully lo mo. I thought of the little inuo i cent being who fell by my side like some beautiful tree of spt ing, rent up by the whirlwind in the midst of blossoming.— Hut I remembered—and oh I (here was joy in the memory—that she had gone where no lightnings slumber in the rainbow cloud, and where the sunlight waters arc i broken only by the storm-breath of Out | uipotcnce. My readers will understand why I shrink ) in terror from thunder. Even the con sciousness of security is no relief to me— my fears have assumed the nature of an instinct, and seem indeed part of my ex istence.— George D. Prentice, Punctuation.— that is the putting of the slops in the right places —canmt be 100 sedulously studied. We lately read hi a country paper the following startling an cjMijjt of Lord Palmerston’s appearance in the House of Commons : “Lord Palmer fbWtfien entered on his head, a white hat upon his feet, large but well polished boots upon bis brow, a dark cioud in his hand his faithful walking-stick in his eye, a menacing glare saying nothing. He sat down.’’— Punch on Punctuation, A man in Atlanta had a well nenr j ly filled with rubbish, which ho wanted | cleaned out. The freed men in that coun try are not much in favor of work, and are j difficult to bite ; but (ho owner of the well | quickly started a s’ory that an iron safe belonging to tho express company, and I full of gold, had been brawn into the well when iho city was evacuated. In less than an hour his yard was filled with ne groes who cleaned out his well in less than no time. Hut they didn’t find the safe. I jßSy*' Arlentua Ward says when lie hears the song, “Coma where iny love lies dream ing,’’ ho don’t go. Ho don’t think it right. 2 ! A Humorous Sheriff. s Nearly half a century ago, there dwelt t j in tho town of , in old England, a rl remarkable oddity, in the person of an at d torney at law, who although not fair to look J upon (for he was iu truth one of the - homeliest specimens of humanity over hc ■ held by mortal man) was withal a person 1 of sound judgment, great benevolence, va st tied learning, a poet, a painter, and a wit s of no mean order. r It so happened that tho aforesaid gen i Roman, G. 0 , Esq., was appoint -1 cd high sheriff ofifthe town of . 3 j He was a man of fwtune, and had a kind ? j heart, as many a pier prisoner could tes ’) tify who partook of the good cheer with t which the prisoners were liberally sup-| 1 ; plied at Christmas aud other well-known ! 3 festivals, from the private purse of tho I 1 high sheriff. i It was, of course, the duty of the high 1 sheriff to summon a graudand petit jury j ! to attend at the quarter sessions, of which ! the recorder, mayor and alderman of the > borough composed tho court. In tho 1 performance of his official duty in sum ! | muniug the petit fury, our high sheriff in > i dulgc-d ia some of the strangest and • drollest freaks that have probably ever “ been heard of in any other town or 1 country, la tho first place hosurnmou ! j cd fur tho October court a jury consisting j of twelve of the fattest men he could find iu the borough, and when they came lo ■ the book to be sworn, it appeared that only nine jurors could sit comfortably in the box ! After a great deal of sweating, ; squeezing and scolding, the panel was 1 literally jammed into the box, and when seated they presented to the eye of the court, tbe barrister’s aud the audience, “the tightest fit” of a jury that ever was seen its a court room. Literally they be came, much to the astonishment of the 1 court and its robed advocates a “packed jury,” and no mistake. Fi r tho January term, our facetious sheriff (in consequence, it is said, of some hint from the recorder that there should ■ be no more fat panels summoned to his court) wont into tho opposite extreme. — He summoned twelve of the leanest and i tallest men ho could find iu the borough, and when they took their seats in the ! bis, it appeared comparatively empty — there was indeed room for more of the same sort and dimensions. 1 For the April term of the court, our ■ humorous functionary summoned a jury ' consisting of twelve barbers. Nowit so i happened that among the latter, were the i perruquiers who dressud the recorders, I and barrister’s wigs, and some of tho latter arriving late at. tbe bar, had to tip -1 pear that morning in court with their 1 wigs undressed or li df dressed, so as to ■ cut a very ludicrous figure, amidst the ! smiles and half-suppressed laughter of tbe 3 bystanders. The high sheriff enjoyed I the fun amazingly, hut looked ns “crave 3 as a judge,” while he tried to keep silence in the room. I, But tlie crowning joke of this waggish ! functionary occurred at the summoning of | j his fourth uud lost jury, at the summer - session iu July. For that term of the * court, tbe high sheriff, not having the fear 1 of tbe recorder, the mayor and tho aldc-r --3 man before his eyes, actually summoned ■ a squinting jury. Twelve a.s queer bi peds as ever took their seats in a jury-box 1 —a jury that was probably more looked 1 at and laughed at than any of tlie appoint ■ cd twelve that ever were sworn to “well t and truly try aud true deliverance make 3 between their sovereign lord king and the j ; prisoner at the bar.’’ J 1 But the scene was so irresistibly droll ■ that the learned recorder could not main tain his gravity. The mayor aud alderman I followed suit. Tho barristers laughed, - while tlieir wigs became bald and powder ■ less ; nay, oven tlie poor prisoners in the 3 dock, who were to be put on their trial, I 3 aud some of them to undergo transporla-1 ■! tion, could not refrain from joining tho I ’ general eachiuatiou. And when the ' learned reouider commanded the high ’ sheriff to bring tlie court to order, and in -3 timated, with a half-suppressed laugh, ■ j that the latter ought to bo ashamed of i himscll for summoning such a jury, tho : drollery of this court scene was heighlcn led considerably by tLo quick, ready, and ■ sonorous response of the high sheriff who looking at tlie same time at the ■ squinting jury, exclaimed, “All good and lawful men, your honor.” Sat* An engineer tells the following I ' story of Western life : We had been busy j during the day, running a line through a dense piece of woodland. An old woman 1 gazed on us for some lime in silence.— We all saw that she wanted to enter into conversation ; anil none with the excep -1 tion of myself, wished to gratify' her. 1 ' soon commenced a dialogue on various 1 subjects and things, and, as a manor of ■ course, I put my best foot forward.— Struck with my language, she exclaimed, in a tone quite flattering to my vanity, “La, how learned yon are !” But the compliment received a death hi ow. “If I was as high learned a scholar as you,” continued she, “I’d quit ingeneerin, and go to keepin’ a little grocery !” A lad applied to the captain of a vessel for a berth. The captain, wishing to intimidate him, handed him a piece of, rope and said, “If you want lo make a good sailor, you must make three ends to the rope.” “I can do it,” he readily re plied. “There is one, here is another, that makes two ; now here is the third and last end of it”—and he threw it over board. Seal Fishing off Newfoundland. 11 A fleet of three or four hundred vessels t ; chiefly brigs, goes out every spring obout •j the first of March from St. Johns, N. F., : ' to engage in the busiues of catching ; j seals. The field of operations is the float | ing icc that comes down from the North i at that season. The men advance upon ■ j the fields of ice in couples—so that one 3 1 may assist the other in time of danger. They keep to the leeward of the ship, else they might lose her, as indeed some times happens in the dense fog. About the 7th of March tho young seals are found about tho size of cats, mewing on the ice. They are not yet fit to be taken, but by lying in the sun and sucking the I ico until about the middle of March they | gain about three inches of fat. Then ! commences the slaughter. The men walk j up to tho white coats, as young seals are called, and knock them over by J striking them on the forehead with a lung pole, stick them with a knife, cut them down tho breast, and the carcass rolls out, leaving tho skiu and tbe (atj which are all the seal catchers are after, j the carcass being left on the icc. Usu ally in about the last week in March the seals begin to dip, they take to tho water, and are then only to be captured by! shooting from tbe boats. Old seals arc invulnerable unles shot in the forehead, and nature has provided them with a means of defence even hero, in the shape of a. “hood,” which they drop on occasions—hence their names “old hoods.’’ So the season of catching them is but about three weeks in dura tion. Then men often go five or six miles from the ship on the floating ice.— They get one half they catch, sometimes making a good trip, at other times get ting nothing. One spring a crew that were out three weeks and three days, shared $135 apiece. A brig of 150 tuns will take a crew of about forty men, who are provided by tho merchant fitting out the vessel with a full supply of provisions, and all things necessary for tho prosecu tion ot tho voyage, in return for which each man pays a small sum, called “berth money;” and should the voyage prove unfortunate, the merchant has to stand tho entire outfit. It is a dangerous oc cupation, for the brigs are liable to be crushed in tho ice though they are strongly built. The fat of tho seal, after being brought into port, is out into small pieces, placed in largo vats, and left to drain off the oil, which is an article of commerce. The skins are used for vari ous purposes. Tho Camphor Storm-Glass. Dealers in philosophical and optica! in struments sell simple storm-glasses, which arc used for the purpose of indicating ap proaching storms. One of those consists of a glass tube, about ten inches in length and three-fourths of an inch diame ter, filled with a liquid containing camphor, and having its mouth covered with a piece of bladder perforated with u needle. A tall phial will answer the purpose nearly as well as tho ten-inch tube. Tho compo sition placed within the tube consists of two drachms of camphor, half a drachfii of pure saltpeter and half a drachm of tbe muriate of ammonia, pulverized and mix ed with about two ounces of proof spir its. The tube is usually suspended by a thread near a window, aud the functions of its contents arc as follows : If the atmosphere is dry and the weath er promises lo bo settled, the solid parts j of the camphor in the liquid contained I in the tube will remain at the bottom, and tho liquid above will bo quite clear ; but on the approach of a change to rain, the solid matter will gradually rise, and small crystalline stars will float about iu the liquid. On the approach of high j , winds, tbe solid parts of the camphor will i rise in the form of leaves aud appear j near tho surface in a stale resem bling fermentation. These indications are manifested twenty-four hours before a storm breaks out ! After some experience in observing the motions of the camphor matter in the tube, tlie magnitude of a coming storm may bo estimated ; also its direction, in asmuch as the particles lie closer together on that side of the tube that is opposite to that from which the coming storm will approach. The cause of some of these \ indications is as yet unknown ; but tho | leading principle is the solubility ol cam phor in alcohol,' and its insolubility in I water, combined with the fact that the J drier the atmosphere tlie more aqueous vapor does it take up, and vice versa.. Sc ten I ijic A mcr icon. A Valuable Bonnet.— An old beg gar woman named Margaret Kersbrum, when on her death bed, at Munich in Bavaria, supplicated her sister to bury with iter an old bonnet which she always wore, on the plea that, having been a gift of her benefactress, she could not bear to part with it. She died soon after; and her sister, taking the bonnet, determined to rip off the band that she thought might bo of service to her, before consigning it to the grave, and which proved to be more useful than she anti cipated, for it contained paper money worth one hundred pounds. £fOne very cold night a doctor was aroused from his slumber by a very loud knocking at his door. After some hesita lation he went to the window, and asked, “Who’s there ?” A friend, was the reply. ‘•What do you want ?” “Want to stop Imre all night.” “Stay there then,’’ was the benevolent reply. YOL. X.—NO. 3. Jack * Letter. s | An English writer says : —“One day I when I oamo home from visiting, ray old , landlady told mo that some one had been ; | down begging me to go up to old Will’s • house as soon as over 1 could —he was in i : groat trouble, I started off at once, and | found him and his old woman both in i tears. I asked what was the matter.” “Oh, sir, we’vs had snob a letter from our Jack in Africa!’’ Now, our Jack was a soldier, and bad, by good conduct, risen to the rank of ser geant-major. His letter was in a high-flown strain. He had been evidently reading Moore and other poets; and be had written when the news of the threatened Chartist riot on the famous 10th of April had just reached the camp. I cannot remember all his letter, but this passage occurs to mo : “ Beloved Parents ; —I havehbeard of the terrible dangers that threaten my na tive land. Perhaps ere now it has been | devastated by lawless bands of unprinoi i pled miscreants; perhaps ere now the humble cot in which I first drew nurture Las been committed to the ruthless flames. Would I were with you, to protect my ! ancestral hearth ! I cannot be with you ; but, beloved parents, my soul hovers over you, as the fabled Homi of the Moham medan ; and I do all I can, by wish and supplication, to cast an aegis around you. Of courso 1 burst out laughing at this high flown letter and their grief. They started at my laugh. “What, sir, is all right ? We thought summit terrible had surely happened ; we never heard such words afore." I assured thorn all was right, and trans lated the letter for them, to their amazing comfort; but I can assure you that letter was shown to every neighbor as “what our Jack could do,” and doubly treasured be cause they could not comprehend it. - —O-tfc The Number of Languages. The least learned are aware that there are many languages in the world, but the actual number is probably beyond the dreams of ordinary people. The geogra pher, 13abi, enumerated eight hundred and sixty which are entitled to bo con sidered as distinct languages, and fivo thousand which may be regarded as di alects. Adoluug, another modern writer on the subject, reckons up three thousand and sixty-four languages and dialects ex isting and which have existed. Even af ter wo have allowed either of these as the number of languages, we must acknowl edge the existence of almost infinite mi nor diversities, tor almost over province has a tongue more or less peculiar, and this wo may well believe to bo the case throughout the world at large. It is said there are little islands lying close together in the South sea, the inhabi tants ofwbich do not understand each other. Of the eight hundred and sixty distinct languages enumerated by Babi, fifty-three belong to Europe, one hundred and four teen to Africa, one hundred and twenty three to Asia, four hundred and seventeen to America, ono hundred and seventeen to Occanica— by which term ho distin guishes the vast number of islands lying between Hindostan and South Ameri ca. Sub Rosa. The term “under the rose,” as imply ing secrecy had its origin during the year B. G. 477, at which time Pausanias, the commander of the Confederate fleet was engaged in an intrigue with Xerxes for the marriage of his daughter anil the subjuga tion of Greece to the Median rule. Their negotiations were carried on m a building attached to the temple of Minerva, called | the Brazen House, the roof of which was 1 a garden forming a bower of roses ; so I the plot, which was conducted with the utmost secrecy, was literally matured un der the rose. It was discovered, how ever. by a slave, and ns the sanctity of the place forbade the Athenians to force Pausanias out, or to kill him there, they finally walled him in and left him to die l of starvation. It finally grew to be a cus tom among the Athenians to wear roses in their hair whenever they wished to communicate to another a secret which they wished to keep inviolate. Hence the saying, sub rosa, among litem, and now among all Christian nations. Calling for Help. When Dick Alma first crossed into New York State from the Canada side he took lodgings at an inn in Canandaigua. A waiting maid sat at tho table with him, Dick spoke to her us a servant, to the no small scandal of mine host, who told him that in his house the servants were called “help.” Next morning the whole house was alarmed by a loud shouting from Dick of “Help ! help ! help I help ! help ! water! water ! In an instant every person equal to the tusk rushed iuto Dick’s room with a pail of water. “1 am much obliged to you to be sure,” said he, “but here is more than I want to shave with.” “Shave ?" quoth mine host, “you call ed help and water, and we thought the house was ou tire ?” You told me to call tho servants “help” and do you think 1 would cry water whon I meant fire ?” “Give it up,” said tho landlord as he led off the line of buckets.” ®6jf-A wise man docs at first what a fool must do at last.