Newspaper Page Text
Better I,nek Another Year.
Oh! never sink 'nesth fortune's frown, But brave bar with a shout ot cheer, m Ami trout het fairly—faco her down— She's only stern to those who four! Here's " better lnok another year!" Another year! Aye, better luck another year! We'll have her smile instead ot sneer— A thousand smiles lor every tear, With home made glad and goodly oheer. And better luck another year— Another year! The damsel lortune still domes The plea that yet delights her ear; 'Tie but our manhood that she tries, She's ooy to those who doubt and leai ; She'll grout ih'i suit another year! Another year! Here's " better luok another yoar!" She now denies the golden prise; But spite ot Irown and scorn and sneer, Be Ann, and we will win and wear With homemade glad and goodly cheer, (a better luok another year! Another yoar! Another yoar! B'. Gil more Si mint The Belle of Wolf Run. A company of strolling players 'n a barn. Tlie great space is lighted by lamps of every description, the mo.-t ambitious of which is a circle of hoops stuck full of candles. This does duty as the grand chandelier, and is quite effective. Seated near the stage, before which hangs a green curtain, are two persons— a man and a young girl, whom, even the unpracticed eye might take as rustic lovers. He is a tall, finely-formed young fellow, with a noble head and keen, sparkling blue eyes. She is the beauty of Wolf Run, faultiers in figure and feature, and with a something in her expression denoting that she is not quite satisfied witli her position, even as the belle of the village, or her surround ings. Margaret Lee had never in her life teen a play, therefore she was prepared to realize all the emotions of novelty, terror, wonder, delight, witli which a novice looks on the strut and action of those who cater to the profoundest emotions. Of course she frrgot where she was ; of course she was dazzled and terribly stirred at the love scenes.which were, as usual, exaggerated. The hero of the drama was a hand some, worthless rascal, who learned, before the evening was through, to play at our unsophisticated little Margaret, reading her admiration in her eyes, and enjoying the smiles, the tears, and almost spoken interest, of the beauty of Wolf Run. " Pretty good wasn't it ?" said Charlie '\ ance, as lie held her fleecy red shawl to wrap shout her, at the close of the performance. Margaret had no words, she only gasped: "Oh, Charlie!" as they gained the door, and caught at his arm; for their stood the hero of the stage, still in his bespangled velvet finery, and evi dently slatioiftd at that particular place in order to catch a glance at her lovely face. "Confound his impudence!" Charlie Vance muttered between bis teeth. Margaret shivered a little as they lett the barn. Everybody was .laughing and talking. The soft, clear, round moon shed its light upon a some of Ay Ivan beauty; J>ut the two spoke but few words until they had reached Mar garet's home— a square white house set back a prrden. "A little of that goes a great ways," said the ynun<£ fanner, who had evi dently been thinking the matter over. " They stay here a week or more. I don't care to go again, do yoq P" "Oh, I do believe I could go every night," said Margaret, fervently. "They're a hard set, Maggy," said her lover, a little malice in his voice. " How do you know ? Are you sure of tliat ?" she asked, eagerly and re provingly. " Oh, they're generally thought to be. Well, good-night. Maggy;" and he had gone ten steps before it occurred to him that they had parted without a kiss. " I don't care," he said, sullenly, half aloud; "and that fellow stays at her uncle's tavern, too. Why should it net tle me so, anyway?" Now Margnret and her cousin Anne were almost as inseparable as sisters. It was with a quick beating heart that the former took her way to the tavern next dav, meeting Anne as usual at the pri vate entrance for the family. "Oh, Magi" cried Anne, her eyes sparkling, " you've made a conquest." "What do you mean?" asked Mar garet, her fair face flushing, her pulses beating tumultously. " Why, vou know—last night. Oh, isn't he glorious!—exquisite? And only think he asked papa who that very lovely girl was in pink ribbons in the second seat —and that was you! Papa laughed and told him his niece, nnd somebody else said something very handsome absut you at the table, nnd then papa Up and said you were engaged to Charlie Vance, which sounded so ridiculous. And I give you my word of honor tli gentleman turned pale." " Nonsense!" said Margaret: hut the flnttering words had accomplished their work, and it was sot hard to persuade her to stay to dinner, where of course her lovely blushing face did not a little execution. "Well, Maggy, what is it to be?" asked Charlie Vance, sternly. This was only a week afterward. All the soft ness had gone out of his faceaahespoke. His eyes had lost their gracious, spark ling beauty. it migbt be that his cheeks were a trifle thin, and certainly his dark face was haggaid "Oh, Charlie!"—she stood on the other side of the spacious hearth, droop ing and timid, her face very white, and the large eyes startled in expression, like those of a frightened fawn. " You are changed, Maggy. I don't say it alone. God help us both, it's talked about all over the place. night, when I heard something at Dllle way's. I felt like going home and blow-, ing my brains out." "Oh.Cherlisr The voice was mote plaintive, and the little figure drooped jet lower. " And it all eoraee of that infernal vil lain. It all comet of your going back and forth to the hotel, and with yonr C ousin Anne, to see him." Margaret lilted her head with a piti ful gesture. "tie is soing away to-day," she cried, a great nam in her voice. " Ana you will eo him before he "Oh, no, no, Charlie. Oh, don't look so cruel. I can't sec him now, you know I can't!" " Since yon've heard that he's got a wife elsewhere, eliP" " C'liariie! I don't care; it isn't that," she answered, chokingly. How could she add—"lt is because I have lound him base, untrue, when he seemed to me like an angel of light." Her red lips quivered; the tearsHtood large and snimng on her lashes, her eyes were downcast, her hands folded with the rigid clasp of despair. "I shall never see him again," she whispered, hoarsely; " but if you say all is over between us, why it must be so." "I don't say it need be, mind," he said, looking pitifully down nt her. " 1 can overlook a good deal, I love you so much, so much! God in heaven only knows how much I have loved you. But I won't have the face of that man between us. God! no! no!" and his great shoulders lifted with the scarcely drawn breath, while a dark red hate smoldered in his usually soft eyes. "It shall be just as you say," she murmured, meekly, without looking up. " It shall be just as you say," he re •plied, quickly. " I)o you think you could learn to love me again, a little?" he asked, the anger all gone. She was so beautiful. " Try me, Charlie. You are so strong and good, and noble; I always felt that —and one can't long like where one can't respect, can oner" Her hands were on his arm now, and the lovely plead ing eyes uplifted to his. " You won't see him again?" 'I won't—l swear I won't! What should I want to see him for now?" she sobbed. "Then, we will wait. This trouoe goes to-morrow. Don't cry, darling; I dare say it will all eome out right;" and after a few low-spoken words, the young man left her, but by no means with pence seated on his bosom's throne. " Mamma, if anybody conies, say I'm out," called Margaret, from the top stairs. " Well, I guess nobody'll be here to day, unless it's that actor fellow." was the response. " IXm't walk in the sun," she added, for mother and father were proud of their darling's beauty, and they secretly wished for her a better match than even their neighbor's son. Deep in the woods she struck, deter mined never to see that too fair fatal face again. •' He'll be pone to-morrow," she half sobbed. holding her hands hard against her heart, "and I shall never see him again. God Ire thanked! for, oh, I dare not trust myself." The path, slippery, with pine-leaves, led to a favorite resting-plai-e—a cleared spot through which ran a crystal-clear river. The place combined several dis tinctively beautiful features. Here she sat down, unmindful of the singing stream, the soft shadows, the sweet murmuring of the wind in the tops of the trees. A footstep near startled her. In the river.-as in a mirror, she saw a vision that had become all too dear to her—a graceful figure clad in black vel vet, the small hat, with its waving plumes, reflected, with the outstretched hand that held it, in the blue depths. She sprang to her feet, a burning flush spreading over brow and neck, and would have fled but that he was beside her at n bound. "My beauty! my darling! my own!" "Sir, those words are an insult to me!" she cried with spirit, striving in vain to free herself from bis caressing arm. "An insult! I would die before I would offer you an insult, my beautiful. Cqme with me; I want to snow you a lovelier spot than this—come!" " I will not, she said, firmly, wresting herself from iiim, not daring to look up in his face. " How could you follow me—how dared you?" " Love will dare anything,'" he said, fjayly, fastening his powerftil eyes on icr face, and drawing her glance up to his. " Come, I will woo vou like Claude Melnotte." And again he put an arm about her; but, like a flash of light ning, the two were torn asunder, and the man was thrown headlong with one blow from the powerful arm of Charlie Vance. "Go!" he said, sternly, pointing to the frightened gir J. " I can save you from his insolence, hut I cannot promise to save you from yourself. Go, and think on your broken promises." Later in the day Charlie came up to Margaret's house and asked for her. "Whatever is the matter with the child ?" queried the mother. I never saw her in such low spirits." The young man made no answer, but went into the cool, shaded parlor. Presently Margaret came down, white as a lillv. There was an unspoken question in her wide, tearless eyes. "No, I didn't kill him, Maggie, though he deserved it. I don't want tl.e crime of murder on my soul, even lor you, my poor girl. Hut I sent him away as subdued and cooled-down a man as ever you see. Such men are always cowards. And now, Maggie, you're free. I never should want to think of the look you gave hiui while I held you in arms, ar.d I should have to think of it. I've come to say good bye, for I'm off for the West, and if ever I—hello I" There was a low. broken sob, and on his chest Margaret lay a dead weight. The girl had fainted awav. Well, a long sickness followed. Charlie could not leave her lying there between life and denlli, and the first visit after she could set up settled the matter. Margaret had conquered her vanity, which, after all, was more touched than her affections, and found that there was only one image in the heart that had been, as site thought, so torn with conflicting struggles—and that was (He frank, honest, blue-eyed Charlie Vance, who had loved her over since she was a baby. And of course thev were married. WrtATHicn Biuxs.—When the swal lows fly low, wet weather may bs ex pected, la-cause the insects which .the swallows pursue in their flight are fly ing low to escapo the moisture of the tip|Kr regions of the atmosphere, blurs twinkle on account of their light reaching us through variously-heated and moving currents of air. Hence much twinkling of the stars foretells bad weather, because it denotes that there are various serial currents of dif ferent temperatures and densities, pro ducing atmospheric disturbance. How Pesnuts are Prepared for the Market. The modus operandi by which the nuts lire separated, cleaned and classed is somewhat as follows: The third story of the building contains thousands of bushels of peas in hags, and there the continual roar of the machinery is deaf ening. Each machine lias a dut yto per form. First, there is a large cylinder in which all the nuts are placed, in order .hat the dust and dirt may he shaken off of them. They pass from this cylinder into the brushes, wiicre every nut re ceives fifteen feet of a brushing before it becomes free. Then they pass through a sluice-way to the floor below where they are dropped on an endless belt, about two and a half feet in width, anil passing along at the rate of four miles l un hour. On each side of tiie belt stand light colored girls, and as tiie nuls fall front the sluice on the belt the girls, with a quick motion of the hand, pick out all the poor-looking nuts, and by the time the belt reaches the end two-thirds of the nuts are picked off, allowing only the finest to puss the crucible. Those that do pass drop through another sluice and empty into the bogs on the floor be low. When the bag is tilled it is taken away by hand, sewed up and branded as "cocks," with the figure of a rooster prominent on its sides. The peas caught up by the girls are thrown to one side, placed in bags and carried into another room, where they are again picked over, the last singled out. bagged and bianded as "ships." These are as fine a nut as the first for eating, but in shape and color do not compare with the "cocks," Having gone over them twice, we now come to a third grade, which are called and brand*"' as ea^.es." These are picked out of theeullings of the "cocks" and "ships," hut now and then you will find a respectable-looking nut among them; though tiie eyes of the colored damsels are as keen as a hawk, and a bad nut U rarely allowed to pass their hands. Tiie eullings that are left from the "eagles" are bagged, sent through the elevator to the top story, and what little meat is in them is shaken out by a patent shellcr, which is not only novel, out as perfect a piece of machinery as was ever invented. The nuts being shelled by this new' process, the meat 1 drops in bags below free from dust or i dirt of any kind, and are then shipped in two hundred-pound sacks to the North, where they are bought up by the con fectioners for the purpose of making j taffy or peanut candy. It may be here stated that a peculiar kind of oil is ex ' true ted from the meat of the nut, and in i thi specially a large trade is done among the wholesale druggists. There , is nothing wasti-d, for even the shells are made useful. They arc packed in sacks and sold to stable-keepers for horse bedding, and a very healthy lx-d i they make.— Correspondence Philadelphia Times. Why Suspension Bridges are Dangerous Referring to the blowing down of the Tay bridge in Scotland, Prof. Park Ben jamin writes as follows: Apropos to this particular accident a distinguished French engineer and iron founder, now in this country, informs us that he lias known bars of iron made by himself from Scotch pig to change from a tough fibrous to a brittle crystalline structure in traveling by rail only from the north of France to Paris. This is. of eourse, an extreme instance. Again, recent re search lias demonstrated that because a structure withstands a large quiescent load, that fact is little proof of stability under repeated shocks and vibrations. Metals are believed to have a " life." A bar, for example, may stand a million vibrations and break down at the mil lion-and-flrst and yet the last shock may be lighter than preceding ones. At tempts, however, to reduce this law to practical application, have elicited an abundance of conflicting evidence, but, nevertheless, it is wellsettled that in no department of mechanics is sn ex tended course of actual experimenting more urgently needed or of graver pub lie importance. Still, against even the above supposition, the fall of eleven spans seems to militate, at least in the light of such information as is now at hand, and the conviction is forced that some other theory lies at the bottom of the occurrence. This leads to the sug gestion of an hypothesis which has al ready been frequently urged by cngi neers who disapprove of bridges on the suspension system—namely, that the structure may be thrown into isochrons vibrations by the wind. This intro duces anew attacking element. It is well known that a very heavy sus pended weight may be caused to vibrate over large arm by a very small force, if the impulses be properly timed. Sol diers in crossing a bridge always break step so as to avoid causing vibrations in the structure, and there is a well-known old story of some one who offered to " fiddle a bridge dowr," his plan being to cause the bridge to swing in unison with the boats of notes corresponding in pitch with the periodic vibrations oftho structure. It is not necessary to mul tiply examples of so well known a physical fact which is here adduced simply to point out that it may not be unreasonable to assume that the long spans of the Tay bridge were thrown into actual swinging vibration by the gale itself, those of the same length would vibrate synchronously and the piers might be supposed to represent nodes or neutral points. Hunt the King -A Winter Evening Maine. A circle is made, and a piece of tape or string is obtained sufficiently long to reach all around the inside. A ring is then slipped on to it. and the ends are tied together. Each of the players takes hold or the tape or string with both hands, and the person whom lot or choice lias marked out for the victim, standing in the middle of the circle, is next made to turn round three times (without shutting his eyes or submitting to any other disadvantage), and is then let loose to hunt for the ring. The ob ject of the rest of the players is, of course, to prevent his catching It, and they pass It from one to another, cover ing it with their hands as rapidly as possible. If a constant backward and forward motion ol the hand is kept up. It will be found extremely difficult to discover where it Is so as to stop it be fore it disnppenrs. As in the fairy tain, , it will often be seen to gleam, but only to disappear when an effort is made to grasp It. and the victim's only chance is the greatest rapidity in opening and shutting etery hand ronn&the circle, to *ach of which he has immediate access as soon as lie has touched it It is un fair to pass the ring from under a hand after it has been touched and before it lias been opened, and the play * In whose possession it is finally found b, nea in turn tbe victim. THIRTY YEAKN IN IHSUUHK. A Noted Old California.. Sl.fe-l>rlTtr IMirortrtd, After Death, So He a Wo man. A letter" from Watsonviile, Cal., to ' the Han Francisco Call, says: There is ! hardly a city or town or hamlet of tiie j Pacific coast that includes among its citizens a few of the gold hunters oJ" j tiie early days where at least one person 1 cannot l>e found who will remember ! Charley Parkhurst. For in I lie early 1 days the gold hunters were, by rapidly- j mcceeding gold discoveries, drawn back i lo San Francisco as a headquarters, and j .gain distributed from it to tiie most I recently found diggings, and in those same early days Charley Parkhurst was a stage-driver on tiie more important' routes lending out from the city. He was in his day one of tiie most dex- 1 tcrous and famous of the California drivers, ranking with FOBS, Hank Monk, and George Gordon, and it was an honor 1 to be striven for to occupy the spare end of the driver's seat when the fearless Charley Parkhurst held the reins of a j four or six in hand. California coach- ; ing hail, and lias even yet, one exciting adjunct that was wanting in all preced ing coaching, It was when the organ- , ized hands of highwaymen waylaid the ! coaches, leaped to the leaders' heads, ! and, over leveled shot-guns, issued tiie grim command mode so often that it 1 was crystalized into the felonious for mula of "Tluow down the box." Drivers of a phlegmatic tcmperani nt be come accustomed to these interruptions, 1 expertly wrecken up the killing capacity of the gun-barrels leveled at them, ac- j cept the inevitable, throw down the treasure-box and drive on. Charley i Parkhurst was high-strung, and this was one requirement of the driver of the early days lie could never master. He drove for a while between Stockton and Mariposa, and once was stopped and had to cut away the treasure box to get his coach and passengers clear. Hut lie did it, even under the "drop" of the robbers' firearms, with all ili-grace, and he defiantly told the highwaymen that he would "break even with them." I He was as good as his word, for, being subsequently stopped on a return trip from Mariposa to Stockton, lie watched ! his opportunity, and. eontcmporane- | ously, turned his wild mustangs and his wicked revolver loose, and brought everything through safe. That his shooting was to the mark was subse quently ascertained by the confession of I " Sugarfoot," a notorious highwayman, I who, mortally wounded, found his way to a miner's cabin in tiie hills, and told ; him how he had ix-cn shot by Charley i I'arkhurst, the famous driver, in a des- I perate attempt, with others, to stop his i stage. Charley Parkhurst also afterward drove on the great stage route front Oakland to San Jose, and later, and for a long time, he was " the boss of the road" between Han Juan and Santa Cruz, when San Frnnciseo was reached by wiur of San Juan But Parkhurst was of both an energetic and a thrifty nature, and when rapid improvements in the means of locomotion relegated coaches further out toward the fron tiers, and made tiie driving of them less profitable, it was not sufficient for him that lie-was acknowledged as one of tiie three or four crack whips of the coast. He resolutely abandoned driving and went to fanning. For fifteen years lie prosecuted ttiis calling, varying it in the wintertime hv working in the woods, where lie was known as one of the most skillful and powerful of choppers and lumbermen, and where his services were eagerly sought for. and always com manded the highest wages. Although, in tiia stage-coaching days, lie was hail ( fellow well met with the migratory miners, and during the succeeding years of liia life as farmer and lumberman be was "social and generous with his fel lows, he was never intemperate, im moral or reckless, and the sure result was that his years of labor had been rewarded with a competency of several thousands of dollars. For several years past lie had been so severely afflicted with rheumatism as not only to be un able to do physical labor, hut th'mal ady had even resulted in partial shriv eling and distortion of some of his limits. He was also attacked by a can cer on liis tonrue. As the combined diseases became more aggressive, the genial Charley I'arkbuist Itecame, not morose, but less and less communica tive, till of late be h?s conversed with no one except on the ordinary topics of theday. Last Sunday, in a little cabin on the Moss ranch, nlwut six miles from Watsonville. Charley Parkhurst. the arnotis coachman, the fearless fighter, the industrious farmer and expert woodsman, died of the cancer on his tongue. He knew that death was ap proaching, hut he did not relax the re ticence of nis later years other than to express a few wishes as to certain tilings to he done at his death. Then, when the hands of the kind friends who had ministered to his d ving wants came to lay out the dead body of the adven turous Argonaut. a discovery was made that was literally astounding. Charley Parkhurst was a woman. The dis coveries of the successful concealment for protracted periods of the female sex under the disguise of the masculine are not infrequent, and tiie ease of Charley Parkhurst may fairly claim to rank as by all odds the most astonishing of all of them. That a young woman should assume man's attire and. friendless and alone, defy tiie dangers of the voyage of IH4H, to the then almost m/thicnl Cali fornia—dangers over wiiich hardy pioneers still grow boastful—hss in it sufficient of the wonderful. That she should achieve distinction in an occu pation above, all professions calling for the Is'st physical qualities of nerve, courage, coolness and endurance, and that slir should add to them the almost romantic personal bravery I hat enables one to figlit one's way througli the am bush of an enemy, seems almost fabu lous, and that for thirty years she should lie in constnnt and intimate association with men nnd women, and that her true sex should never have been even suspected, and that she should finally go knowingly down to Iter death vlthout disclosing by word or deed who she was or why she had assume I man's dress and responsi bilities, are things that a reader might be justified in doubting if the proof of their exact truth was not so abund ant and conclusive. 11 is said by several who knew her intimately that she came from Providence. K. !. Remarks * writer: "A gen tie hand cull Wad an elephant by a hair." NDW, what fool inline** that fa to put Into the mind* of children. Why, bless you, eiephanW don't have hair; they just hase hide*, that's all. Terhapa a gentle hand might lead him by the tall, but, mind you, we have our doubt* eren of that.— HocJklamt Otnrter. How Farmer* are Swindled. Y eater day a well-known gentleman called at thin office and gave us the par ticulara of the nmst ingenioua and well devised aehenic to defraud people that it ha* ever been our lot to record. The thieved, for tney eannot be called by any Other name, have successfully vic timi/.ed a nunvter ol farmers of this county. Their aclieme i a* follows: A well-aretscd man calla at the residence of Home farmer, and after introducing himself states that he is in the employ of the State hoard of agriculture, and is sent by the board to gather the sta tistics regarding the crop of the past year, the same to be printed in hook form for dWtribu'ion throughout the State. He therefore produces a blank printed like the following: INDIANA STATU UHAUD or AOKICUI.TVKB. Statistical Department, ron 1879. No. bushel* of wheat raised No. hushels ol corn raised No. bushels ol flaxseed raised ....' No. bushels of oats raised No. bushels ol rye raised Sign here This blank, as will be seen from the alaivc form, has a blank space at the bottom, which the swindlers state is left to till up with any other article which the farmer might produce in quantity. After the printed blank is filled, they usually write num ber tons of bay raised, and then request tie- farmer to sign it on the blank line so that it may be placed among the tiles lof the lioard after lA lng printed. Aftei the signature is obtained, a little talk is indulged in about the farmers in the lo cality, and the swindler departs. lie then fills up the blank space at the foot of the olank with a note, payable in hank, in any sum he desires, and dis poses of it. In several of the cases wherein some of our farmers were vic timized, the amount called for is one hundred and twenty-six dollars, and the same purports to pay for a windmill pumn. The swindlers were in this city \on Wednesday last with a number ol | notes which they tried to dispose of at ; the hnnks, hut were unsuccessful, and it is presumed they left, on the afternoon train. The scheme is such a plausible one that it is easy to understand how a person can be taken in. We urge upon OUr readers to give as much publicity a possible to this, and warn all against the swindlers. Do not sign any paper presented by a stranger, and you will save time and lots of trouble.- Kokomo (Ittd.) Tril/unc. Ilow the fount Josnnes Was Bounced. The death of the Count Joannes re calls an incident in the editorial mom of the Boston Tranacripl some years ago, before the Count left Boston, and when tlie genial l)an. Haskell was editor of the paper. The Count's frequent visits ha<l become a source of annoyance to Haskell and bis associates in the editor ial room, and hut little respect was en tertained by them for the numerous titles claimed by the Count, while his consequential airs and lofty style had become a positive bore. Hushing in late one forenoon, where Haskell, Fox, Dix and Whipple were scratching away for dear life at their respN*tive deeks.lheCount slapped down a small slip upon Haskell's desk and asked in a loud and indignant tone: " Why was that item about me pub lished in yesterday's , Haskell laid down his pen. and, rising to his feet, confronted the Count, who stood in a dramatic altitude with folded arms, and said, in his decided, matter of fact way: "Mr. Jcnes,leave this room (point ing to the door), do not enter it again as long as you live; we are tired of you. anil you may r*>i assured that as long *• I am editor of the Tranarript your name shall never again appear in its columns except ur.dcr the head of 'Obit unry.' Go!" The Count was so taken aback that lie did not utter a word, but elevated his eyebrows, fixed his hat more firmly upon his head, and strode majestically to the door toward which Haskell still'painted and vanished behind it. The editor sank ha<-k in his scat with a sigh of relief, but there was a peal of laughter fn m those present, in which even the sedate Whipple joined.—Bos ton Commercial Bull*tin. What Paid for Illinois. The Chicago Tribune print* an old document of considerable historic inter est. It is a deed or conveyance of land bearing date July 20. 1773. The parties of the first part in the transaction are ten Indian chiefs of the different tribes of the Illinois nation* of Indian*, rcpre sen ting all of them, and the parties oi the second part are twenty-two white men of Philadelphia and Pittsburg. I'cnn., and I>onoon, England. The premise* conveyed by the Indians to these white men srs two several tracts of land, via : Hint, the tract now com monly known as Southern Illinois, nnd, second, the remainder of the State to the northern border, and a portion ol South em Wisconsin. The consideration for this immense tract of land, including the whole State of Illinois and a g*wtd part of Wisconsin, is thus expressed in the deed: "Two hundred and sixty strouds, 250 blanket*. 350 shirts. 150 pairs ol atroud and half-thick stockings. 150 stroud breech-cloths, 500 pounds ol gunpowder. 4.000 pound* ol lead, one gross of knives, thirty pounds of ver milion. 9,000 gun-flints, 900 pounds of brass kettles, 900 pounds or tobacco, three dozen gilt locking-glasses, one gross of gun-wemi*. two gross of awl*, one gross or fire-steels, sixteen dozen of gartering, 10,000 pounds ol flour, 500 bushels of Indian corn, twelve horses, twelve horjed cattle, twenty bushels of salt and twenty guns, the receipt wlier.- of we do hereby acknowledge " These nrticles having been " paid and de livered in full council." The deed was signed and executed before a French notary public at Kaskaskia village. The Warld** Telegraphs. The system of telegraphs in Eurng> comprised, at the end or 1877. 9W.thll miles of lines and 709.708 mile? of wire There wen- 19 827 government telegraph stations The number ol empio>ees amounted to 61,974, and the number of instruments to 41,708. The number of paid messages was in round numbers 80,000,000, of which 90.000,000 were In ternational dispatches. The nunit*r of other telegrams forwarded amounted to ahoul 7,060,000. M. Newman Hpaliart gives the following statistics for the other parts of the world: In America (1875 to 1877), 114.157 miles of wire; H. 756 stations; 93.000 000 telegrams. In Asia (1875 to 1876). 94 581 miles of wire; tH9 stations; 9 900.000 telegrams. Aus tralia (1875), 93,589 miles of wire; 089 stations; 9.500.000 telegrams. Africa (1874 to 1878), 8.148 miles el wire; ltt stations; 1,200,000 >legrams. THE HOOD OLD DAYS. Th* F.tr vacant Mpreaa nt Otir Calabra. Id VtirclallK-ra. The following is from an address by James J'arton before tin New York His torical Society: This venerable society lias seen fit for many years to hold ft-asta especially In June, when the festive strawberry gladdens the heart of man lie hnd asked, why this collation every monthT What connection lietwci-n sandwiches and history* Hut a vener able member had" rebuked him, saying gravely: " J,et no man speak dhi fully of sandwiches here, lor sand wieh<-s built this house." One of the firstsst, of the I'uritans in IWMI was to nbo'.h'i" that most time-honored and beiav.-cj feast, Christmas. Home of them made the observance of the day a matter of conscience, and the governor had spared them "till they should he better in formed;" but he had forbidden public games on that day. Hut in truth the l'uritans never succeeded in abolishing Christmas, although they no longer ob served it openly, according to the chronicles. They had simply changed the date: on which It had been observed for 3.000 years, and observed it after the old fashion—on the last Thursday of November. The Puritans had little to make merry with. For years thoy had nothing to drink but water: and often the only viand was a lobster, with noticing to make a salad of. Then it was that the clam made its appearance in historr Hut often, when the pilgrim/had made readv a feast of ground-nuis and claou i the Indians would come and eat it. 'fo ! put a stop to these breaches of <ti<ju< tt< the pilgrims hanged a man. not an In : dian—that would not have been strange I or original—but they hanged one of their own numlcer for stca ing from an 1 Indian. In this tragic way the clam ai> pe&red in history. In this proud and I haughty town the vender of the c lam, ■ and even the horse who draws ids load! are often mentioned in tones of dispar agement ; but it is far otherwise inN* w England, where they have "grand an nual Episcopal dam-bakes." When America began to export fun and tobacco and coo fish, the people „) the country lived extravagantly, bring ing molasses from the West Indies, the* j soon learned to make rum ol it, and rum became a circuln'iny medium : hut rum and tobacco soon vitiated the feasts of our forefathers. Even at the meetings of the clergy the room wa with smoke of tobacco and the steam of hot rum. If anyone supposed that in colonial times the people were more austerely virtuous than they art- now, let him examine the records of the soci ety, and he would soon find the magni tude ol his error. John A who began the temperance move ment in this C untry, reeordi that the price of rum was in those times a shilling a gallon, though sometimes it was raised to a pi-tarc -i, and in small towns there would be a dozen rum taverns, which were alarm ingly injurious to the people. Other records show similar facts. From read ing Franklin's memoirs, the lecturer, in common with others, had thought that sage a temperance man. Hut the saga cious Franklin, who km ww. 11 wdiat to tell, omitted to state that after In be came a prosperous gentleman he was no longer a teetotaller. Tlie absurd and barbarous habit of drinking healths was observed in all its rigor, but even this was to he preferred to the slangy habits of modern tim<-s. I-ater, tea and coffee came into fashion, though chocolate had preceded these dainties in the popular favor, and the ehoeo'ate was commonly boiled with sausages and the whole met--- eaten with, a spoon. The coffee in olden times'was probably very had. and ev<wi a* late a /John Randolph's time there was erouno for hi* immoral remark: "Waiter, if this is tea, bring me coffee; it this if coffee, bring me tea." In the time of the revolution, while the army was starving at Valley Forge the people in the great cities w r< iv- Ing in luxury and exlrsvagam<•; :.nd later, when the commerce of tie i<>untrj was pour ng in wealth, the style of liv ing was incredibly luxurious. The con sequences of this extravagance wr re se rious. For one thing it broke ut- Pres ident Washington's cabinet. Pinner* did it. The salaries of the gecreUrie* were all insufficient to keep up the style of living that was thought necessary. How a Top Climbed a String. The Japanese top-spinner walked to the side of the and untied a string which as soon as it was loosed swung quickly to the middle of the stage. and then hung perpendicularly. After un tying this string, the Japanese took i top from his assistant, and twirling it i.i his hand until it revolved quirk y enough, tie took hold of the end of the string, and. placing the stem of the tor at rignt angles to it, left thing* to take care of themselves. The top spun a short time at the end of tue string, hut soon it began to move slowly upward, still spinning st right angles witii the string. It continued in this WAV to move steadily upward unti. at length it had traversed theentirr dis tance, and was lost to view behind Hi* " flics" over the stage. When the applause that greeted this trick had subsided, the Japanese moved the doll-house to the center of the stage and placed it beside the table. He then set six topa. exactly alike in size and ap pearance. spinning upn the table, and taking a seventh in his hand, indicated to the spectatorr, by signs, that lie wou d send it on a journey through the do k house. He then sat down on the floor, and curling up his legs. Turk !ashin, started the seventh topspinning. It ran along the floor until it reached a sort of inclined drawbridge leading to the en trance ol the little house, and then went slowly to and through the open door. The juggler waited a moment, as it ex pecting some signal Irom the now invisi ble u.p. His suspense was relieved *n instant later by the tinkling ola silver bell, which indicated that the top h*d enten-d one nl the tiny rooms. J"* Japanese held up one finger and wail'd. in a listening attitude, for a second sig nal. It came, as before, in the tinkle < a hell, upon hearing which the man held up two fingers. Finally, when ten rooms had been visited, and ten bells, rung in this way, had lieen counted on the pw former'a fingers, he arose and pointed toward the house, and toward the table, upon which tlie six tops were yet spin ning. After a few moments, during which we silently watched the door ol the house, tlie top that had been ringing tlie bells came quickly out of the en tr.-nce, ran down the drawbridge * d oppod motionless at the feet of tns Japanese. That same mom en the top* on the table stopped and dropped over on their sides.—a. NiokoUu. Thar'i on* tiling you a borrow on your person*] •ecurity^T7sbl*.