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gfy glttnhfo Sentinel RATES OF ADVERTISING: : All advertising for leas than three month for one inch or less, will be charged one Insertion, 75 ceirs three, (1.50; and id cents for each subsequent lnser-" tion. Administrator's, Execntor's and Aaditor'a Notices. 2.00. Professional and Business Cards, not exceed ing one square, and including ropy of paper, 8.09 per year. Notices in reading columns, ten cents per line. Merchants advertising ty the year at special rates. 3 months. matit 1 near. ESTABLISHED IN 1846. PUBLISHED EVERT WEDNESDAY MORNINQ. Bridge Street, opposite the Odd Fellows' Hall, MIFFLIKTOWN, PA. THE JUNIATA SENTISEL to published every Wednesday morning mt (1 SO m year. In advance ; or, f 2 00 In all case if nut paid promptly in advance. No subscriptions discontinued until all arrearage are paid, unless at the option of the publisher. B. F. SCHWEIER, TBI CONSTITUTION Till UNION AND TBI ISIOECIMIST OF THC LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. One inch S V) S 5 CO 4 8 oil Two inches ft uu 8 ni 11 uo Three inches a 141 Is o 15 utf tnie-fourth column.... 10 uo 17 to -a uu Half column IS W 25 uo 45 110 Out: colanin 3u M) 4ft utf 8U utf VOL. XXVII. MIITLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., SEPTEMBER 24, 1873. NO. 39. Poetry. My Violet. raOM TRI OLD CAB1XST. A viol-t lay la the grass, A tear in its golden eye ; Aud it said, Alas and alas I The night is over and gone. Another day is anih. And I am alone, alone ! There is none to care if I die. There is none to be glad that I live ; The lovers Ihey pass me by And never a glance they give. And 1 could love so well, so well! If one would but tarry and tell A tale that was told to me only : My lover might go his ways, lint through all the nights and the days I should never again be lonely. Then sudden there fell a look Into that violet's heart. It lifted its fare with a start ; It arose ; it trembled and shook. At last, O at lat! It cried ; Down drooped Its head, and it died. h God in fcaren t It the bgld Of the swons, and the stars, and the sunt. Hit, or the Evil One'tt h he cruel, or mad, or rigid f Tbe Pansy that grew by the wall. Its heart was heavy with bliss. In tbe night it had heard a ca I; It listened, it felt a kiss ; Then a loving Wiod did fall Od Its breast, and shiver with gladness ; Tbe morning brought lore's madness To light, and the lover fled. But the eyes that burned in his head Shot love through each and all. For tbe Pansy that bloomed by the wall Shone sweet In every place, In the sky, the earth, and the air, And that lover saw never the face (if my dead violet there. Mluth 1 Hush 1 Let no wrote be qjolem J Tho'iyh it Iterifh, no pitir shatl Jttt it. It-tier tt die hea t ftr-lm i'iuve than to hue without it! fnWi JrMAlr. 3Iiwcellriisy. A. T. Stewart's Elephant. A. T. Stewart's great charitable project a Lome for the working women of New York, is likely to become an elephant on bis bands. Tbe building which was intended as the futnre Home three years ago is almost complete, but it is thought doubtful whether it is to be used for what it was originally designed. Mr. Stewart's intention was to make it a kind of hotel exclusively for single and widowed working women, where they could live cheaply and comfortably. Since the erection was begun, however, serious doubts have Wen entertained as to whether Mr. Stewart's plan is feasible. It is said that his advisers consider it impossible to establish a Home such as he proposes, as it would require superhuman offorts to enforce the regulations necessary for the thou sand and more women who would occupy the building. The structure is in Fourth avenue, between Thirty-second and Thirty-third Htreets, on what was for many years the tite of the Harlem Railroad locomotive depot. It covers one half block, and stands on the slope from Murray Hill. Mr. Stewart has spent nearly three million dollars in its erection exclusive of what he paid for the lot. It is a mag iiiticeut striicture.and resembles Booth's 'lbeatre iu its architecture, only it is very much larger. Work was begun on it after May 6, 18(59, the date on which the architect's plans were filed with the Department of Buildings. It is 2(15 feet front on Fourth avenue, and 196 feet 6 inches on Thirty-second and Thirty-third streets. It towers in height above every building north of Four teenth street. From the pavement to the roof the distance is 102 feet. The depth of the foundation is about 18 feet The base stories are six to eight feet wide, aud are laid in cement. Its walls are of great thickness, and are fire proof. There are from three to six feet of brick in the foundation walls. The cornices are supported by eight iron columns, which make the front very ht rong. The floor beams are nine and twelve inches thick. Under them are iron girders supported by iron columns. The roof is a mansard, made of brick and asphaltnm. The walls are coped with blue stone. The mansard is tower bhaped on each of the four corners. There is also a tower in tne centre on the facade side. It is six stories high, or seven includ ing the mansard. The first tier or tioor is nineteen feet six wenes irom noor to ceilinc. and the upper twelve feet six inches. A patent elevator extends to the roof. There are about 800 corridors aud 1,400 rooms. The middle of the nite is a court-yard. Xew York Sun. How the Ancient Lighted their looses. The ancients knew no method of re filling oil. As a great luxury they mixed it with perfumes, such as essence of roses and sandal wood ; bnt this rather detracted from than added to the burn ing properties pf the liquid, and all that was obtained by the process was an increase of fragrance aud a diminution of light. The dwellings of wealthy men, who expended extravagant sums npou scented oils, would not have borne comparison, in point of lighting, with the grimiest tap-room of a gas-Ut public bouse. The gold and silver lamps, liuug by slender, well-wrought chains to marble pilasters, only yielded at their best a lurid, tampering flame, that gave out an enormous deal of smoke, flutter ing in the slight breeze, and went out altogether at a gust of wind. Neither was it possible to steady the light by closing the apertures through which the air came, for had Roman or Grecian I ..... a a Kaovi vwiflflAftflAjl nf cloflfl wimlnwn tut v would have soon become uninhab- . - r . e stable, rue iresco paiuuuga 01 rom .un'.ii villa tlifl delicate colors on the walls of urban palaces would, in less than a month, have been hopelessly coated with lamp soot At the end of . iw.n.'a vinforAnri nf an evening, a nvu uvru " ' - - u party of noble Romans would have re sembled a congregation 01 euimnej A tnniA rlvAd in TVrian nnrnle would have acquired a mourning hue in no time. A Carious Watch. Many years since, workman in a French manufactory decided to make watch, every part of which, the main spring alone excepted,should be of rock crystal. After thirty years of labor he accomplished his task. All the pieces of the watch are fastened by rock crys tal screws, and the escapement is most intricate. His widow would never part with it ; but when she died the treasure fell into the hands of a French watch maker, who intends to exhibit it as a specimen of French workmanship, pricing it at two thousand dollars. Cer tainly few articles could possess greater interest on the score of ingenuity. KEEPING A PROMISE. Til wait for you, Ralph, no matter how long it will be. I'll trust in you, and wait for you." The speaker was a fair-haired girl, not exactly pretty, but with a delicate, oval face, glowing with health, soft, truthful brown eyes, and a slight, trim figure. She stood under the apple trees, loaded with blossoms that per fumed the air. the setting sun shining slantly on her heaJ, and a stray white petal from the apple boughs lying on her fair hair. "It won't be for long, Bella; only three years," said her companion, a tall, handsome yonth, with curling ciiestnnt hair and dark blue eyes. " e are both young you, only seventeen I, twenty ; three years won't seem long to either of us. . A shower of snowflakes fell on Bella from the apple boughs above her. "Let us go in ; it is almost tea-time," she said, brushing them from her hair. The young man drew her hand through his arm, and then sauntered up the garden walk. Ralph Trumain and Belle Selton were companions since childhood. Ralph had lost both parents at an early age, and had been left in the care of Squire Selton, whose wife had died at Bella's birth. Ralph was as dear as a son to the squire, who fondly hoped to see him married to Bella ; but an unexpected event came to change the current of the young people's lives. This event was the receipt of a letter from an uncle of Ralph's, his father's brother, who had long been thought dead, having left home in his youth, and though diligently searched, for, his relatives had dis covered no trace of his whereabouts. It seems that he had settled in Hong Kong, and having amassed a large for tune, wrote home to his brother, being in ignorance of his death. The letter, addressed to Ralph Tru main, was, of course, forwarded to young Ralph, who, upon opening it, discovered that it was intended for his father, and was from his long-missing uncle. Both he and Sqnire Selton lost no time in answering the letter, and informing the absent man of his brother's death. As soon as possible, a letter reached Ralph from his uncle, requesting him to come to China, and promising to make him his heir. Though sorry to part with him, Squire Selton conld not do otherwise than counsel him to go ; so preparations were made for the journey, aud Ralph was to start on the morning following the commencement of this story. "Well, children," said the sqnire, who sat smoking in the porch, as Ralph and Bella stood before him. He was a stout, hearty looking man of forty-five years, with a good natured expression on his jovial countenance. Well, children, don't look so down-hearted." Bella murmnred something about see ing if tea was ready, aud entered the house. Ralph threw himself down on the steps, aud surveyed the scene before him with a sigh. "Are you sorry to leave the old place, my boy ?" asked the sqnire. "Yes, sir," replied Ralph ; "but" "liut what, Ralph?" "I I should feel happier if there was an engagement between Belle and my self." "No, no, my boy. There must be no engagement lietween yon ; in three years either or both may change your minds. It is best that yon should both le free." "May I consider that your final decision, Mr. Selton?" inquired the young man gravely. "Yes, Ralph," replied the squire, replacing his pipe between his lips. Next morning Ralph Trumain left the home of his childhood to find his uncle in far-off China. A month after his departure, Bella and her father received letters from him. He was in Liverpool, and was about to sail for China in one of his uncle's vessels. "You see, Bella," he wrote, "my uncle has not forgotten the land of his birth. The vessel I am to sail in is named 'The Rose of Canada.'" After that no news from Ralph reached the Seltons ; so they concluded that he had sailed for China, and did not expect to hear from him until the next spring. The snmraer passed, aud antnmn came, with its ripened fruit and golden grain ; a little later and the frast set in, and the trees waved their leafless branches in the November blasts, when Bella, sitting one morning by the cheer ful wood fire in the dining-room at Sel ton Hall, awaitiug the appearance of her father for breakfast, took np a news paper that lay folded on the table. Turning it over, a heading, "Lost at Sea," caught her eye. She glanced over it, and read : "New Tom, Nov. 90th.-Th.- brig 'John Lawrence,' from Singapore, Brown, ruaMer, reiorts having ticked up. ou the SI August, iu the lmiisn tK-ean, .t. sv deg. 1ft miu. south, loug. Tft d-g. 1 min. west, a long bitat, bearing the name 'Koee of Cansd 2 with the body ot a man. apparently a sailor, iu it. It is supposed that the vettwl was wrecked in uiid-orean, aud that the occupant of the boat ieri!!i'i from expiire aud starvation. A blanket aud an enijtty bottle wete found iu the boat." No cry escaped from Bella ; she sat clutching the paper, her eyes strained on the paragraph. Five minutes later the squire entered the room. "Good morning, Bella. Kept you waiting, eh ? Well,'let's have breakfast at once." No answer. "Bella, child, are you so interested in that paper that you can't leave it ?" Still no answer. "Is the child asleep ? Belial" He advanced and laid his hand on her shoulder. The touch seemed to break the spell that bound her ; with one wild cry she sprang from the chair, threw up her hands, and dropped senseless at her father's feet. Raising her in his arms, the squire filled the house with calls for help. All that day, and for many days after, Bella Selton lay unconscious of what was passing round her. Squire Selton, in searching for the cause of Bella's swoon and subsequent illness, discovered the paragraph con cerning the 'Rose of Canada.' Though he greatly feared that Ralph Trumain had perished, yet he set to work to dis cover, if possible, a clew to his fate. He wrote to the captain of the 'John Lawrence,' wrote to the consignors of the 'Rose of Canada' at Liverpool, and wrote to Ralph's uncle at Hong-Kong. Two of these letters were answered before Christmas, the captain giving the particulars of the finding of the long boat; the consignors informing the sqnire that Ralph Trumain had sailed in the 'Rose of Canada' which had undoubtedly been lost with all on board. Long before the last letter had reached the squire, Bella, much paler and thinner than formerly, had taken her accustomed place in the household; before spring came her form was as round and her cheeks as pink as ever; but that she grieved for the playmate of her childhood, and the lover of later years, was plainly seen in her quiet, sad manner. Years passed by, and Bella recovered her old cheerfulness. Suitors came, but she encouraged none. Her every day life said plainly, in the words of Marion Gray: 1 can love no more. My heart lies bnried beneath tbe sea : Tet why should I give my days to grief? There is plenty of work in tbe world for me. And work she did ; the poor of the country round blessed her ; not a house did sickness or sorrow enter but Jiella Selton found her way to, bringing snn- shine to many a darkened homo. Squire Selton had mourned lor Ralph as for a son, yet he hoped that Bella would forget him, and marry. Only oure did he mention the subject to Bella, when a rising young lawyer asked for her hand in her twenty-second year. "Bella, my child," he had said, "why won't you accept young Granvile ? He would make you happy, and I wish so ranch to see you settled. "Dear papa," Bella replied, "I cannot. Something whispers to me that Ralph is living. Five years ago I told him I would wait for him, and I will keep my word." "God grant that he is living," said the sqnire, solemnly ; "but I cau scarcely hope it ; five years is a long time, Bella." "I know that, papa, and still I have hope," was the reply, and so the subject dropped. Aud the years passed on, bringing no tidings of Ralph Trumain or the 'Rose of Canada.' Agnin it was May, and the apple-blossoms loaded with perfume the air round Selton Hall. The sun was sinking slowly in the west, its rays lighting up the windows of the old house, as a fair haired woman passed out of a side door, and walked toward the orchard. Down at the far end she stopped, and leaned against an apple tree. "Sixteen years to-day," she mur mnred, "and it seems like a dream ; sixteen years since I promised to wait for you ! O, Ralph, Ralph ! my poor lost Ralph I living or dead, do you know that I am waiting for von still ?" A soft breeze rustle.! the apple boughs above her, and a shower of blossoms fell on her head, as she stood, her fore head resting against a tree; A step on the grass startled her, and she turned round. A tall, sunburnt man, with long brown beard and curling chestnut hair, stood before her. For a moment Bella's heart stopped beating, aud she grew pale, bnt the next instant she sprang toward the new comer. "Ralph!" ' "Bella !"' And the long-parted lovers were re united at last. The first words Bella said were, "Come to papa, Ralph," anil she led him to the porch, where Squire Selton sat dozing. "Papa," she said, "here is a gentle man, an old acquaintance, who wishes to see you." "Oh ah yes ! Very happy to see you, sir," said the sqnire, starting np. "1 . lielieve 1 don t remember you Ralph." Upon getting a full view of his visitors face, Squire Selton had recognized him at once. "Yes, Mr. Selton, it is Ralph ; have yon a welcome for him ?" "A thousand, my boy, a thousand. cried the squire, shaking hands with Ralph as though he intended to wrin? off his arm; "and there's that lady," pointing to Bella, "she has waited all these years for you ; what do yon say to that ?" And, Bella child, see if tea is reaily ; we musn't let curiosity get the better cf hospitality." Here the squire stopped for want of breath. After supper Ralph Irnmaiu gave the sqnire and his daughter a detail of his adventures ; how he was wrecked in the Indian Ocean, and cast, with two com panions, on an uninhabited island, where they remained for fourteen years, and were at length rescued by a vessel bound for China, whither they went. Upon reaching China, Ralph learned that his uncle was d ing, and hastened to him. He lingered for a few weeks after li ilph s arrival, and died, leaving Ralph his sole hair. As soon as possible after his death, Ralph started for Can ada, returning to his native land a wealthy man. The following day the neighborhood was electrified by learning that Ralph Trnmuiu who, for sixteen years, had been considered dead, had returned. Two weeks later there was a wedding at Selton Hall, which every one declared to be the grandest they had ever seen ; and looking fairer beneath her bridal veil than ever she had looked in her youth, Bella Selton became the wife of him whom she had mourned as dead years before, and yet clnng to the pro mise she had made to wait for him, no matter how Ions. Maids and .Mimresscs. It should be plain enough that ex amples are as much to servants as to children ; since in manners and social training servants are as children. The peasant-girl reared in an Irish cabin or German cottage can hardly be expected to be a model of politeness or of personal neatness. It is quite .possible, however, to teach her by example alone. If the mistress be courteous to every member of her family, and they in tarn to her, the maid soon feels the atmosphere of good breeding, and unconsciously be comes amiable and respectful. But let the mistress speak sharply to her husband, or scold the children in public, or let the master constantly find fault in the presence of the servant, and she will shortly discover that conrtesy is not one of the essentials of the estab lishment, and will, most likely, add black looks and uncivil words to the general disharmony. Servants being imitative, there is more reason that the conduct of employers is worthy of imi tation. It the mistress of a bouse be careful of her dress, her speech, her daily habits, her handmaid will, in all probability, grow more careful of her own. Bnt the woman who comes to her breakfast-table with disheveled hair and rumpled gown, has no right to find fault with the maid for attending the door bell in a dirty calico and slovenly shoes. Like mistress like maid, as well as like master like man. Unless a good example be set, there is no cause to complain of servants for following a bad one. As a rule, they are ready to learn, though they may be dull and slow of compreheu ion. They wonld rather improve their condition than de grade it. They wonld rather be ladies than servants. Their ignorance makes them mistake the false for the true, the bad for the good. If every mistress would take pains to set a fair example to her maids, and aid them, now and then, by timely and delicate hints, she would soon have servants who would be, in fact, the help they are in name. Scribner'f Monthly. The most expensive and fashionable jewelry in Denmark is said to be made from fish bones and scales. It is more costly than articles of gold. Early Emit. It was very cold at Nice : that is my only excuse. Alas, by what slender threads one s happiness depends I It was all arranged I was to marry Mile. Louise early in June, and the Marquise, her mother, was commenc ing to treat me with something less than her customary reserve. She was a terrible woman, that Marquise. "Be treacherous," some one had told me. And I was treacherous. At particularly trying moments I looked into the eyes of my betrothed, but one can form no idea of the circumlocution I had to em ploy to express to the Marquise the simplest things iu life. Iu speaking to me of the trousseau the word chemise made her blush, and one day I caused her to leave the room (I don't know why), simply because I happened to mention a pair of suspenders. One evening Mile. Louise was even more charming than was her wont. The air was heavy with perfume. Coffee had been served in the conservatory, we sat beneath large magnolia trees, which were fairly bowed down with fra grant blossoms. Seated quite close to her, I sketched a thousand projects for our future, and while she listened with her great blue eyes fixed upon me, I gazed upon her graceful head ; her wav ing blonde tress caught up from the neck ; her light robe rising in a snowy friise at the throat, and descending to a point upon the bosom ; and I thought that in six weeks at the longest she wonld be mine. It is so difficult to speak to young girls. Every moment there came to my mind stories which I found too gay.and which would certainly have frightened so ethereal and poetic a nature. So, having plunged into a senseless anecdote which I did not know exactly how to get out of, I said suddenly, in order to change the conversation : "By the way. Mademoiselle, do you like strawberries ?" "I adore them," she answered, with a daiuty little movement of the lips ; "but I suppose that it will be necessary to wait a little while." The fact is that it was only the be ginning of April, but I thought that one could get anything in Paris, "and that very evening I sent my friend Ray mond the followind despatch : "Send me a large box of strawberries from Paris at any price. Hector." Three hours afterwards I received the reply : "Little pots make up a box. Will send as soon as possible. Ratmokd." My friend Raymond was a jewel. Be sides perfect taste and great amiability, he was so fortnnate aa to possess Paris, and, whenever I was away, I charged him with all mv commissions, trusting as much to him to order a coat as to forward me a bouquet. The nest day, early in the morning, I received a great box, well, bound, and labelled with my address. It was enor mous, and it was frightful to think of the number of little pots Raymond must have purchased to be able to send me a package of such respectable weight in so short a time. Under the circum stances, my present became a truly royal gift, and the same day I sent it to my fiancee, together with my daily bou quet of white lilacs. All that day I remained away from Mme. de Boisen fort's, so that the effect of my gift might be greater. The time seenied very long. I could see Mile. Louise opening my box the eagerness which her feminine curiosity would be sure to give rise to. Then I imagined her astonishment at the sight of the con tents. She would take a berry at ran don (the largest), hold it delicately be tween her slender fingers the little fin ger in the air I could see it all as though I were there and nibble it with her white teeth, making all sorts of grimaces as she ate. Decidedly it was a happy thought to send to Pans. When evening came I presented my self at the usual hour, studiously af fecting the indifferent air of a gentle man who does not think he has done anything at all remarkable. I opened the gate, and was a little surprised not to find Mile. Louise in the garden. Usually she came to meet me, and, after a cordial grasp of the hands, we would enter the drawing-room to gether, m "Bah !" I said to myself, "I shall find her in the green-house." And I ascended the steps. She was there, to be sure. Her face was flushed and her eyes swollen, as though she had been crying. As soon as she perceived me she came forward, and said : "Oh ! sir ; it was very, very horrid of you !" Then, throwing me a glance full of reproach she left the place. I commenced to feel a little uneasy upon entering the drawing-room. The Marquise was standing before the mau-tel-piece, erect aud haughty, something like the statue of the commander. "You received my package ?" I asked with my most amiable air. "Yes, sir ; yes," ground out the Mar quise. (I awaited the key to this puz zle.) "And," continued she, "I con sider it was a little too soon much too soon. "Goodheavens, madame, these things have no value unless they are sent before the time for them as early fruit yon know." "As early fruit, sir as early fruit ! You continue your absurd mystification. Leave the house. Neither I nor my daughter will ever see you again. Leave the house 1" I was stuncetL I went away com pletely disconcerted, asking myself if it was not some frightful dream. Arriv ing at the hotel, my servant handed me a letter from Raymond together with a little box : "Mr dear Friend : I send you the strawberries you wish. Forgive ine for not having sent them sooner, and more ofthem, but they are yet very rare. ." Without finishing the letter, I tore open the little box ; it contained indeed some magnificent strawberries. What was in the box of the previous evening, then? A frightful suspicion crossed my mind. All at once, I uttered a cry. There was a postscript : "I hope you recieved last evening the box of flannel waistcoats." La Vie J'arUienne. Scene in an Opium Shop. One who has never visited an opium shop cau have no conception of the fatal fascination that holds its victims fast bound mind, heart, soul, and con science, all absolutely dead to every impulse but the insatiable, ever-increasing thirst for the damning poison. I entered one of these dens but once, but I can never forget the terrible sights and sounds of that "place of torment." The apartment was spacious, and might have been pleasant but for its foul odors and still fouler scenes of unutterable woe the footprints of sin trodden deep in the furrows of those luggard faces and emaciated forms. On aU four sides of the room were eouohes placed thickly against the walls, and others were scat tered over the apartment wherever there was room for them. On each of these lay extended the wreck of what was once a man. Some few were old all were hollow-eyed, with sunken cheeks and .cadaverous countenances ; many were clothed in rags, having probably smoked away their last dollar; while others were offering to pawn their only decent garment for an additional dose of the deadly drug. A decrepit old man raised himself as we entered, drew a long sigh, and then with a half-uttered imprecation on his own folly proceeded to rehll his pipe. This he did by scrap ing off, with a five-inch steel needle, some opium from the lid of a tiny shell box, rolling the paste into a pill, and then, after heating it in the blaze of a lamp, deposit it within the small aper ture of his pipe. Several short whiffs followed : then the smoker would re move the pipe from his mouth and lie back motionless : then replace the pipe, and with fast-glazing eyes blow the smoke slowly through his pallid nos trils. As the narcotic effects of the opium began to work he fell back on the conch in a state of silly stupefaction that was alike pitiable and disgusting. Another smoker, a mere youth, lay with face buried in his hands, and as he lifted his head there was a look of des pair such as I have seldom seen. Though so young, he was a complete wreck, with hollow eyes, sunken chest, and a nervous twitching in every mus cle. I spoke to him, and learned that six months before he had lost his whole patrimony by gambling, and came hither to quaff forgetfulness from these Lethean cups ; hoping, he said, to find death as well as oblivion. By far the larger proportion of the smokers were so entirely under the influence of the stupefying poison as to preclude any attempt at conversation, and we passed ont from this moral pest-house sick at heart as we thought of these infatuated victims of self-indulgence and their starving families at home. This bane ful habit, once formed, is seldom given up, and from three to five years' indul gence will utterly wreck the firmest constitution, the frame becoming daily more emaciated, the eyes more sunken, and the countenance more cadaverous, till the brain ceases to perform its func tions, and death places its seal on the wasted life. Lippincott's Magazine. Jet How and Where it is Ob tained. A writer in the Practical Magazine gives the following interesting particu lars regarding jet, a material much used for the manufacture of mourning jew elry. In this country, we may remark, the substance is largely imitated by vulcanized rubber, which, when new, closely resembles the genuine article. Real jet jewelry mounted in gold is worth from hve and six to as higu as seventy dollars per set, the price, how ever, depending principally upon the quantity of precious metal used. It is very serviceable, and, unlike rubber, it retains its brilliancy. Jet is of two distinct species hard jet and soft jet but the latter is of very minor importance and will be referred to hereafter. The hard jet is found in the strata known as the jet rock, which appears to be a deposit of sea anemones, aud some years ago a patent was taken ont to dis till petroleum from it. The jet rock occurs in the lias forma tion some thirty yards above the main band of Cleveland ironstone, and is dis covered in compressed masses in layers of very different sizes, being generally from half an inch to two and a half inches in thickness, from fonr to thirty inches wide, and four or five feet in length. It invariably tapers away, run ning, as the miners say, to a "feather edge." These jet layers are always protected by a skin, the color making another di vision ; for that found in the cliffs by the sea has always a blue skin, while that discovered in the inland hills has a yellow coating. The jet found in the same mine varies very much in quality; its worst specimens, those which are quite brown and will not take a polish, are termed "dazed jet." The soft jet is confined to the lower oolite in the sand-stone and shale some 160 yards higher than the hard jet, and is undoubtedly of a pure ligne ous origin, tbe fibre and the branches of trees being more or less distinctly marked. The most valuable finds of jet have been washed down by the sea's action, where the jet rock crops ont in the cliffs, and on the cliffs where the seams are exposed. The dealers of the town of Whitby.in Yorkshire, Englaud, where the principal deposits of the material exist, rent these jet cliffs and inland seams from the owners, generally for a fixed lump sum paid in advance not for a royalty for the right to work a certain number of yards. Nearly all the jet now obtained is found inland, bnt in former days tales are told of men being swung by ropes over steep cliffs like tbe eider-down hunters of Norway. At present, cliff jet is worked with the same mining operations as that lying under the inland hills. The process is very simple, and, to those acquainted with the intricacies of iron and coal mining, of no very great interest. A mine is commenced by drifting into the face of a rock a pass age of seven feet by five. A tramway is then laid down, and the shale is tilted from the mouth of the mine, the drift continued for about forty yards, at the rate of from two to four feet per diem; then cross drifts are started in a variety of directions. As soon as the rock be comes too hard, the miners retire, pull ing in the roofs as they recede, for the bulk of the jet is found generally in the falling top rock. There are at present twenty-three jet mines in full work, only one of these being of soft jet. The average number of men employed in each mine is six, and there are now some hundred and fifty miners engaged in this industry. The men are generally paid by the week, and only earn from twenty-four to twenty-six shillings a sorry contrast to the high wages of the iron miners. Hard jet varies in prices, from 75 cents to $3.50 per lb. ; soft jet from $1.37 to $7.50 per stone, according to size and quality, and sometimes also according to the fluctuations of the market. For instance, when the Prince of Wales' life was in danger, Whitby was thronged with buyers for both the raw and manu factured article at any price, and some speculators were severely bitten by his happy recovery. It is stated that the turn-over in rough English hard jet amounts to $200,000 annually. The material is manufactured as fol lows: The jet is first peeled and stripped of its skii, be it blue or yellow, by means of a mannal chipping process with a heavy ircm-bandled chiaeL It is ; vnen eawn np into tne exact sues lor the object for which it is intended, the saw being guided by an ingenions ar rangement of little wooden directors.' Much care is taken in this process of "sawing up," for great economy can.by rigid supervision, be effected, one manu facturer stating that by a very simple arrangement he was able to make his raw material go a fifth further than any of his rivals. The little fragments are then delivered to workmen, who, with the aid of small grindstones driven by a foot treadle, take off the angular portions and reduce them more nearly to the required dimensions. They then pass into the hands of the carvers who, with knives, small chisels, aud gouges, soon, if it be rough work only, cut them into the desired pattern. If the work, however, be really artistic, the carving is of course a much more artistic process; and itfis curious to see lads and men, who one might fairly think had net the slightest knowledge in the world of art principles, cut deftly and rapidly cameos that in their beauty of profile resemble the old masterpieces; flower scrolls and groups of fruit that have a marvellous fidelity to Nature herself ; and crucifixes and pendacts that rival all theingennity and patience of the "heathen Chinee." Sometimes you notice them with a pattern placed before them, or with a rongh design scratched by a kni'e's point upon the material itself oftenest, novever, it would seem as though the work were altogether original. After being carved, the goods are removed to the polishing room, where the first process, in the case of rorgh goods, again takes place, upon a treadle grindstone fed with oil and "rotten stone." Then the finish and the polish are given by what is termed "rougeing." Here the articles are held against quickly revolving wheels, covered with ciiamois leather for the larger portions and with strips of list for the indented parts of the pattern, the beautiful pol ish being given by means of a composi tion of a red pigment and oil. They are then set (the settings all coming from Birmingham) and taken to the warehouse, where they are carded, or strung if necessary, and priced and packed by young women, being then stored for the inspection of the buyers. Two Virginia CniTergities. BY K. 8. SHALER. Washington and Lee University was an unshapely, dingy old building. The students were away, but the place of fended the sight by its dirty, unkept look. There was a little chapel in the grounds new enough to make the old building look the more forlorn. A boundary fence separated the grounds from those of the Military Institute, where the order of a well kept garrison prevailed. There were half a dozen buildings in the grounds, .well bnilt, though with an apira tion. after the cas tellate which was a little excessive. It is not too much to say that this school is about the most satisfactory thing in the South, in the way of an educational institution, A good coips of teachers gives tuition to about two hundred students. The appliances for teaching are good. The chemical labo ratory would compare favorably with that of some of our best Northern schools. The library to replace that lost by tire is already reasonably good. There is the beginning of a museum of applied mechanics, with especial refer ence to mining industry. The machi nery of the school seemed ellective. How ever much one might doubt the pro priety of keeping the meuiseval ma chinery of military school working at this time, one could not fail to feel a pleasure at the sight of trim, clean, handsome boys who kept guard. The effect is fostering those traits which are most apt to be wanting in the Southern character order, system, and mental alacrity is undoubtedly good. The students are fed in a mess-hall, with kitchens worked on a military system, with all the best modern appliance for cooking by steam, bake-ovens, etc. The dinner we saw in preparation was excellent in quality, better in material than that of the average boarding-house at Cambridge, and much better cooked. The physical result of the salubrious conditions is marked in all the young men ; a more manly set of boys I sever saw. Our last day in Virginia was spent at the University of Charlottesville. This pet child of Jefferson is one of the most interesting schools in this country. There is no school in America bnilt on so grand a plan as this, at least so far as its masonry is concerned. A huge building of classio architecture, with a pediment supported by Corinthian col umns, with noble marble capitals and incongruous shafts of brick and stone, gives the offices of the school, its library, lecture-rooms, and principal hall. In the latter are some respect able bits of art.among others a fair copy of the School of Athens. The front of this building forms one end of a great quadrangle, the sides being bordered by loug lines of brick buildings, part one story, giving dormotories for stu dents, part two stories, for the dwell ings of the teachers ; the farther end of the quadrangle is open, looking over a beautiful lawn with' a lovely vista of rolling country and distant bine moun tains. The system of the school is good. It keeps a high standard for its degrees, and deserves in every way the warmest support of those who look to the educa tion of the Southern people for the re habitation of that lovely but unhappy part of our country. It was pleasant to bid good bye to Virginia sights in our last look at the stately buildings of this monument to her intelligence. Allan tic Monthly. A Lady's Seat on Horseback. A lady's horse, to be perfect, should be all over handsome, and well up on its haunches. If slightly hollow in the back, so much the better, for it gene rally tends to ease in action, and to less motion to the saddle. A lady should never be heard upon the saddle that is, there should be no bumping noise, not even in a trot. She should sit so closely, and, when rising to the trot, possess such elastic motion from the foot to the knee and the waist that her return to the saddle should seem as light as a feather. She Bhould sit "sqnare to the front," and her horse's ear (to speak as a soldier) ought to dress well with the buttons ou the bosom of her habit. Nothing is so bad as to sit with a lean to one side, and, when admirers are following after, to let them fear that a very little would cast her off from the stirrup side of her saddle. Her hands should be down, but light, and her arm, as well as every inclination of her figure, should har monize with the motions of her steed, as if both possessed the same volition. The excursions ef bees to collect honey are variously estimated at from one to three miles each, aod they are supposed to make each about tan trios a day. The Tombs ofChinese Emperors. These are the tombs of the Ming em perors, one of the most brilliant dynas ties of Chinese history, ihey lie m a circular valley which opens ont from a great plain, and it surrounded by lime stone peaks and granite domes, forming a barren and waste amphitheatre. The grandeur of its dimensions and the aw ful barrenness of its desolation make it a fit resting-place for the imperial dead of the last native dynasty. At the foot of the surrounding heights thirteen gi gantic tombs.encircled with green trees, are arranged in a semicircle. Five ma jestic portals,alM)ut eight hundred yards apart, form the entrance to the tombs. From the portico giving entrance to the valley to the tomb of the first emperor is more than a league, and the long ave nue is marked first by winged columns of white marble, and next by two rows of animals, carved in gigantic propor tions. Of these there are, on either side, two lions standing, two lions sit ting ; one camel standing, one kneeling; one e'ephant standing, one kneeling ; one dragon standing, one sitting ; two horses standing ; six warriors, courtiers, etc. The lions are fifteen feet high.and the others equally colossal, while each of the figures is carved from a single block of granita. At the end of the avenne are the tombs, with groups of trees about them. Each tomb is really a temple in which white and pink marble, porphyry and carved teak-wood are combined, not 'ndeed with harmony or taste, but, what .s rare in China, with lines "of great pu rity and severity. One of the halls of these tombs is about a hundred feet long by about eighty wide. The ceil ing is from forty to sixty feet high, and is supported by rows of pillars, each formed of a single stick of teak timber j eleven feet in circumference. These sticks were brought for this purpose from the south of China, and with a land journey from Pekin of more than thirty miles. Thongh they have been in position over nine hundred years, they appear as sound as when first posed, nor has the austere splendor of the structure suffered in any degree. The sombre obscurity well befits these sepulchral dwellings, and the dull sound of the deadened gongs struck by the guardians makes the vaults rever berate in a singular and impressive way. Behind the memorial temple rises an artificial mound abont fifty feet high, ace ass to the top of which is given by a rising arched passage built of white marble. On the top of the mound is an imposing marble structure consisting of a don hie arch, beneath which is the imperial tablet, a large slab,npon which is cp. fed a dragon standing on the back of a gigantic tortoise. The remains of the emperor are bnried somewhere within this mound, thongh tbe exact spot is not known : this precaution, it is said, was taken to preserve the re mains from being desecrated in a search for the treasures which were buried with him, while the persons who per formed this last office were killed upon the spot, in order further to preserve the secret. Lippincott's Mayazine. DiNinclinalion to Marriage. Concerning the cause of the trouble, all sorts of philosophers agree. It is the ambition for an expensive style of living which keeps young men and young women from thinking of marrying until they can reckon on a sufficient income to support it. Men who have thus post poned matrimony to money-making, find themselves when they have attained middle age, in the possession of the coveted wealth, perhaps, bnt disinclined to marriage, confirmed in bachelorhood, skeptical as to the virtues of women anil the general desirability of the wedded state. The hey-day of youth and the spring of passion with them is over and gone. The sweethearts of their youth have grown old with them, and heve long ago drifted ont of their lives. They often conclude that having re mained single so long they will not change their state. It is the old story. In youth when they couldn't, they fain would have wedded, and in maturity when they can, they no longer care to. Or, what is worse than bachelorhood, yielding to the suggestions of that deli berate sensuality of mature years, so different from the hot passion cf yonth, they take to their bosoms some young girl willing to sell herself for money, and careless that she is utterly separated from all sympathy with her husband by a gulf of years. The costly habits of dress indulged in by American women are often adverted to as discouraging early marriages. This is also to be set down to the peculiarly unrestricted character of social ambition among us. The European woman follows the stand ard of her class in her dress. That standard is pretty accurately adapted to the average resources of members of that class, and she does not exceed it without exciting remark. Iu this conn try there is but one class, to which the poorest as well as the richest belong. There are accordingly no standards of dress adapted to different grades of income. The wife of the mechanic and the wife of the millionaire follow but one rule, and that is to dress as well as they possibly can. This principle of conduct makes a wife au expensive luxury for an American artisan or strug gling professional man. Still, although our fair country women certainly de serve a mild talking to on this subject, satirists and social reformers are often much too hard upon them. It is useless to charge the disfavor into which mar riage has fallen among young people, exclusively npon either sex. Both have a wholesome consciousness that it is a thing they ought to be ashamed of, and so are given to throwing the blame on each other. But the truth is that both sexes are perverted by a common curse of inordinate social ambition and un governed desire of fine living and the lnxnry of wealth, passions, which, with all the compensating blessings, a demo cratic state of society unquestionably tends to aggravate. Sprinyjield Union. Metempsjehosis. The gifted Sargent S. Prentiss once gave asumptuous dinner to some friends at a hotel in Vicksburg. Early in the evening a stranger entered the room by mistake. Prentiss courteously invited him to join the party. Before long the strange guest began boasting of how much he had drunk during the day a cocktail here, a smasher there, a jalip in this place, a sling in that, and so on, apparently without end. At length Prentiss interrupted him : "Sir," said he, "do you believe in the doctrine of metempsychosis ?" "I don't know," was the reply, "and I don't see that it has anything to do with what we were talking about." "It has," rejoined Prentiss, "much much every way, I have a firm faith in that doctrine I believe that in the next life every man will be transformed into the thing for which he has best qualified himself in this. In that life, air, yon will become a corner grog gery." Bench and Bar. A'nrieties!. The hardest thing to hold in the world is an unruly tongue. The children of God have much in hand and much more in hope. Never talk to a man when he is read ing, nor read to a man when he is talk ing. A geuins is popularly supposed to be one who can do anything except make a living. ? Don't invest your money ia lottery ticket. Give some o'her man a chance for a prize. Don't tell an editor how.. to run a" newspaper. Let the poor fool fijid jt out himself. . A hard-working yonng man, with hi wits about him, will make money while others lose it. " " Never promise a child and then fail to perform, whether you promise him a bun or a beating. Pull up the moment you find yon are ont of the road, and take the "nearest way back at once. Every time the sheep bleats it loses a mouthful, and every time we complain we miss a blessing. A bore is a man who spends so much time talking abont himself that you can't talk about yourself. Already we see signs of the coming monarchy in this country in the number of piers around New York. Hop picking in the day time and partner picking at night is now the order in Central New York. Drinkers in this country can hardly be called heathens, bnt still the great idea with them is jug-or-not. It is only by labor that thought can be made healthy, and only by thought that labor can be made happy. A North Carolina baby was born with its false hair on, thus establishing the genuineness of the divinity that doth hedge a woman. Punch saya a young man's friends object to his being loose ; but, some how, they have an equal objection to his being tight. One day recently, it is said, the wheat cars which arrived in Chicago would have made a continnons train over twelve miles long. A .noted English clergyman recom mends to people to urn their dead. Wouldn't he do better to show them how to earn their living ? A man, at Newark, N. J., claims to have discovered a means by which elec tricity may be controlled, so as to be utilized as a motive power. The Knit road Oazrtte estimates that the extent of new railways built in this conntry in 187.1 will be more than forty per cent, less than for 1372. Artificial wants are more numerous and ler x to more expense than natural wants ; from this cause the rich are oftener in greater want of money than those who have but a bare competency. An Italian engineer proposes to tho Sultan of Turkey to unite the conti nents of Europe and Asia by means of a bridge across the Bosphorus from Pera to Scutari distance of a mile and a half. The wives and other female relatives of the transported Coiumnuists who de sire to join them in New Caledonia con tinue to be forwarded thither at govern ment expense, and a Havre paper gives particulars of the departure of five hnn dred women who left that port a few days ago on board the steamer Fenelon, many of them with families. In a prominent Western journal we find it stated that the Sierra-Madre Tunnel Company of Colorado, with Colonel George Ileaton as president, has been organized for the purpose of tunneling throngh the Rocky Moun tains. English capitalists have come forward and subscribed all the stock sixty million dollar.) and work has already been commenced. By moans of this tunnel,the company expect to reach all of the one hundred and fifty fissure veins of silver-ore known to exist in the mountains, and, if their calculations do not miscarry, the earnings will many times re-place the amonnt invested. It is estimated that the cost of the work will not exceed twenty million dollars. An undertaker in Sullivan county, New York, recently advertised as fol lows in a local journal : "It is admitted that we do not only love onr wives, but -also onr children, brothers and sisters. They die. We want a suitable coffin or casket for the jewel, and a tender and careful hand to take it np and bear it to its last resting place. Who will do it for us ?" The advertiser then proceeds to answer his own qnestion by inform ing the pnblio that he is prepared to bury as many as desire his services,and continues : "A good hearse and peer less team of horses in waiting at all times to receive or deliver a corpse at the railroad station, or go elsewhere as far as human voice is heard or hnman track is run." Keep a List. 1. Keep a list of your friends, and let God be the first in the Ust, however long it may be. 2. Keep a list of the gifts yon sret and let Christ, who is the unspeakable gift, be first. 3. Keep a list of your mercies ; anil let pardon and life stand at the head. 4. Keep a list of your joys ; and let the joy unspeakable and full of glory be first. 5. Keep a list of your hopes ; and let the hope of glory be foremost. 6. Keep a list of your sorrows ; and let sorrow for sin be first. 7. Keep a list of yonr enemies ; and however many there may be, put down the "old man" and the "old serpent" first. 8. Keep a list of yonr sins ; and let the sin of unbelief be set dotrn as the first and worst of all. Prompter. Very few realize what a vast quantity of eggs is reqnired for the markets of the country. Boston alone consumes from fifty to one hundred thousand dozen of eggs daily, when they are at the lowest figure, and about thirty thou sand at the highest. One man in Ox ford gathers and sends to Boston $, 000 worth of eggs annually. He keeps two teams constantly employed collect ing eggs from grocery stores of seven or eight towns. He has a stone cellar, 100 feet by 50, at home, and one at South Pans, where he stores the eggs. When lowest, he pickles and saves for a higher market. He has abont 1,000 crates and some 100 boxes, and ships by (li. eoileno1 svarv flaw. Tha frfticht to 1 T 1 . .1 . r. nn.l .11 ..ua K luntuu in a wub at uuuj ww jj breakage comes on him. Eggs are never lower than sixteen cents, or higher than thirty-six, under this system, though they used to be down to eight cents. He collects in the summer from five to six hundred dozen a week, pay ing cash at the store. He thinks that hens will net their owners each year a dollar a head, if carefully kept.