Newspaper Page Text
HENRY A. TARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher KLK COUNTY TJIi RKPUDI.IGAN PARTY. Two Dollars per Awnum. VOL. I. RIDGWAY, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 29, 1871. NO. 18. OVER TUB HILL TO THE POOH-HOISE Br WILt M. CARLITOX. Over the hill to the poor-house I'm trudgln mv wearv wav I, a woman ol seventy, and only a trifle gray . I, who nm smart and chipper, lor all the years r I've told, As many another woman that's only half as oiu. Over the hill to the poor-house I can't quite make it clear! Over the hill to the poor-house It seems so noma queer I Many a sten I'vo taken a-tollin1 to and fro. But this Is a sort of journey I never thought 10 go. What is the use of heapin' on me a paupcr'i siiame r Am I lazy or crazy 7 am I blind or lame 1 True, I'm not so supple, nor yet so awful sioui ; But charity ain't no favor, If one can live with' out. I am wlllln' nnd anxious on' ronriv mv Hut To work for a decent llviu'.uu' pay my honest For I can earn my victuals, an' more too, I'll uu UUUUU, If anybody only Is wllliu' to have mo round, Once I was young an' han'some I was, upon my soul Oucc my cheeks was roses, my eyes as black ub cuai ; And I can't remember, In them days, of hear in' Deonle Bay. For any kiud of a reason, that I was la their way. 'Taint no use of boostln', or talkln over free, But many a house an' home was open then to me ; Many a han'somo offer I had from likelv men. And nobody ever hinted thut I waa a burden men. And when to John I was married, sure he was good and smart, But, he and all the neighbors would own I aone my pari ; Fer life was all beforo me, an' I waa young an' etronir. And I worked the best that I could In tryin' io get along. And so we worked together; and life was nara, out gay, With now and then a baby for to cheer us on our way ; Till we had half a dozen, an' all growed clean an' neat, An went to school like others, an' had enough io eat So we worked for the chlld'rn, and raised 'em every one j Worked for 'em summer and winter, just as we ought to 've done; Ouly perhaps we humored 'em, which some gooa ioiks condemn, But every couple's child'rns a heap the best to mem. Strange how much we think of our blessed little ones I I'd have died for my daughters, I'd have died for ray sons; And God he made that rule of love ; but when we're old and gray, I've noticed It sometimes somehow falls to work tho other way. BCrauge, another thing: when our boys an' girls was crown. And when, exceptlu' Charley, they'd left us there alone; When John ho nearer an' nearer come, an' dearer seemed to be, The Lord of hosts be come one day an' took min away irom me. Still I was bound to struggle, an' never to cringe or lull Still I worked for Charley, for Charley was now my all; And Charley was pretty good to me, with scarce a word or frown. Till at last he went a-courtiu', and brought a wue irom town. She was somewhat dressy, an' hadn't a pleas ant smile She was quite concclty, and carried a heap of styie ; But It ever I tried to be friends, I did with her I know : But she was hard and proud, an' I couldn't lnaito it go. She had an education, an' that was good for ner ; But when she twitted me on mine, 'twas car- ryin' tnings too tur ; An' I told her ouce, 'fore company (an' It al most made her sick). Thut I never swallowed .a grammar, or 'et a ritnuiciicK. 8o 'twas only a few days before the thing was aoce They was a family of themselves, and I an other one ; Aud a very little cottage oue family will do, But I never have seen a house that was big enough for two. An' I never could speak to suit her, never could please her eye, An' it made me Independent, and then I didn't try; But I was terribly staggered, an felt It liko a blow, When Charley turned ag'ln me, an' told me I could go. I went to live with Susan, but fjusan's house was 6mall, Aud she was always a-hintln' how snug it was for us all ; And what with hor husband's sisters, aud what with chlld'rn three, 'Twas easy to discover that there wasn't room for me. Au' then I went to Thomas, the oldest son I've got, For Thomas's buildings 'd cover the half of an acre lot ; But all the chlld'rn was on me-I couldn't stand their sauce And Thomas said I needn't think I was com ing there to boss. An' then I wrote to Rebecca, my girl who lives out West, And to Isaac, not far from her some twenty miles at best ; Aud one of 'em sold 'twas too warm there for any one so old, And t'other had on opinion the climate was too cold. Bo they have shirked and slighted me, an' shifted me about So they have well-nigh soured me, an' wore my nld heart out ; But still I've bore up pretty well, an' wasn't much put down. Till Charley went to the poor-master, an put we on the town. Over the hill to the poor-houso my chlld'rn dear, good-by I Many a night I've watched you when only God was nigh ; And God '11 judge between us : but I will al- 'ays pray That you shall neTer eufTer the half I do to day. JIarpcr'i Wtekly. THE POET OF SIERRA. FLAT. As the enterprising editor of the Sierra Flat Record stood at his case setting type tor bis next week s paper, bo could not help hearing the woodpeckers who were Dusy on tbo roof above his bead, it oo curred to him that possibly the birds had not yet learned to recognize in the rude structure any improvement on na ture, and this idea pleased bim so much that he incorporated it in the editorial article which he was then doubly com' posing. For the editor was also printer ot the liecord; and although that re markable journal was reputed to exert a power felt through all Calaveras, and a greater part of Tuolumne oounty, strict eoonomy was one of the condi tions cf its beneficent existence. Thus preoccupied, he was startled by the Budden irruption of a small roll of manuscript, which was thrown through the open door and fell at his feet, lie walked quickly to the threshold, and looked down the tangled trail which led to the high-road. But there was noth ing to suggest the presence of his mys terious contributor. A bare limped slowly away, a green-and-gold lizard paused upon a pine stump, the wood peckers ceased their work. So complete had been his sylvan seclusion that he found it difficult to connect any human agency with the act ; rather the hare seemed to have an inexpressibly guilty look, the woodpecker to maintain a sig nificant silence, and the lizard to be con science-stricken into stone. An examination ef the manuscript, however, corrected this injustice to de fenceless Nature. It was evidently of numan origin, being verse, and ot ex ceeding bad quality. The editor laid it aside. As ho did so he thought ho saw a face at the window. Sallying out in some indignation, be penetrated the surrounding thicket in every direction, but his search was as fruitless as before. The poet, if it were he, was gone. A tew days alter this the editorial se clusion was invaded by voices of alter nate expostulation and entreaty. Step' ping to the door, the editor was amazed at beholding Mr. Morgan McCorkle, a well-known citizen ot Angelo, and a subscriber to the Record, in the act of urging, partly by force and partly by argument, an awkward young mau toward the building. When he had ft nally effected his object, und, as it were. sateiy landed bis prize in a cbair, Mr, McCorklo took off his hat, carefully wiped the narrow isthmus of forehead which divided his black brows from his stubby hair, and, with an explanatory wave of his hand toward his reluctant companion, said : " A borned poet, and the cussedest tool you ever seed 1 Accepting the editor s smile as a recog- ui nun oi ine introduction, mr. jyievjor kle panted and went on : " Didn't want to come ! ' Mr. Editor don't want to see ; i J I" it i 3 i t r r n me, Morg,' sez he. Milt,' sez I, he do ; borned poet like you and a gifted genius like he oughter come together sociable 1 And I fetched him. Ah, will yer?" The born poet had, after ex hibiting signs of great distress, started to run. But Mr. McCorkle was down upon him instantly, seizing him by his long linen coat, and settled him back in bis chair. " Taint no use stampeding. Yer ye are and yer ye stays. For yer a borned poet ef ye are as shy as a jack ass rabbit. Look at 'iin now 1" He certainly was not au attractive picture. Thero was hardly a notable feature in his weak face except his eyes, which were moist and shy, and not un like the animal to which Mr. McCorkle had compared him.' It was the face that the editor had seen at the window. " Knowed him for fower vear since he war a boy," continued Mr. McCorkle iu a loud whisper. " Allers the same, bless you I Can jerk a rhyme as easy as turniu' jack. Never had any eddica tion ; lived out in Missooray all his life. But he's chock ill o poetry. On'y this mornin' sez I to him he camps along o' me Milt sez I, ' are breakfast ready ?' and he up and answers back quite peart and chipper, The breakfast it is ready and the birds is singing free, and it's rism in the dawniu light is happiness to mo I' When a man," said Mr. Mo Corkle, dropping his voice with deep so lemnity, " gets off things like them, without any call to do it. and handlin' flapjacks over a cook-stove at the same time that man's a borned poet." There was an awkward pause. Mr. McCorklo beamed patronizingly on his protege. The bom poet looked as if he was meditating another night not a metaphorical one. The editor asked if he could do anything for them. " in course you can, responded Mr. McCorkle, " that's jest it. Milt, whore's that poetry ?" The editor s countenance fell as the poot produced from his pocket a roll of manuscript, lie, nowever, took it me chanically and glanced over it. It was evidently a duplicate of the former mysterious contribution. Ihe editor then spoke brieflv but earnestly. I regret that I cannot recall his exact words, but it appeared that never before, in the history of the Record, had the pressure beeu so great upon its columns. Matters of para mount importance, deeply affecting the material progress of Sierra, questions touching the absolute integrity of Calaveras and Tuolumne as social com munities were even now waiting expres sion. Weeks, nay, niontns, must elapse before that pressure would be removed. and the Record could grapple with any but the sternest of topics. Again, the editor had noticed with pain the abso lute decline of poetry in the foothills of the Sierras. Even the works of Byron and Moore attracted no attention in Dutch Flat, aod a prejudice seemed to exist against Tennyson in Grass Valley. But the editor was not without hope for the future. In the course of four or five years when the country was settled " What would be the cost to print this yer?" interrupted Mr. McCorkle quietly. "About 50, as an advertisement. responded the editor with cheerful alacrity. Mr. McCorkle placed the sum in the ediUr'i baud. " Yer see that's what I sez to Milt ; Milt,' L 1 pay as you go, for you are a borned poet. Ilevin no call to write, but doin' it free and spontaneous like, in oourse you pays, Thet's why Mister Editor never printed your poetry.' " "What name shall I put to it?" asked the editor. Milton." It was the first word that the born poet had spoken during the interview, and his voice was so very sweet and musical that the editor looked at him curiously, and wondered if he had "Milton: is that all?" "Thet's his furst name," explained jur. Mcuorkie. The editor here suggested that as there had been another poet of that name " Milt might be took for him ? Thet's bad," reflected Mr. McCorkle with sim ple gravity. " Well, put down his hull name Milton Chubbuck. The editor made a note of the fact. " I'll set it up now," he said. This was also a hint that the interview was ended. The poet and patron, arm in arm, drew toward the door. " In next week's paper," said the editor, smilingly, in answer to the child-like look of inquiry in the eyes of the poet, and in another moment they were gone. The editor was as good as his word, He straightway betook himself to his cuse, and, unrolling tbe manuscript, be gan his task. The woodpeckers on the roof recommenced theirs, and in a few moments the former sylvan seclusion was restored. There was no sound in the barren, barn-like rooms but the birds above, and below the click of the com posing-rule as the editor marshaled the types into lines in his stick, and arrayed them in solid column on his galley. Whatever might have been his opinion ot the copy before him, there was no in aioation ot it in bis tacc, which wore tbe stolid indifference of his craft. Per haps this was unfortunate, for as the day wore on, and tue level rays ot tbe sun began to pierce the adjacent thicket. they sought out and discovered an anx ious ambushed figure drawn up beside the editor's window, a figure that had sat there motionless for hours. Within. tho editor worked on as steadily and im passively as Fate. And without, the born-poet ot (sierra Flat sat and watched mm as waiting its decree. ihe eilect ot the poem on Sierra Flat was remarkable and unprecedented. Tho absolute vilencss of its doggerel, the gratuitous imbecilitv of its thought. and above all the crowning audacity of tne tact tuat it was the work ot a citi zen, and published in the county paper, brought it instantly into popularity. For many months Calaveras had lan guished for a sensation ; since the last vigilance committee nothing had tran spired to dispel the listless ennui begot ten of stagnant business and crowing civilization. In more prosperous mo ments the oflice of the Record would have beeu simply gutted and the editor deported ; at present the paper was in such demand that the edition was speed ily exhausted. In brief, the poem of Mr. Milton Chubbuck came like a special providence to Sierra Flat. It was read by camp-fires, in lonely cabins, in flar ing bar-rooms and noisy saloons, and declaimed from the boxes of stage-coach-ts. It was sung in Poker Flat, with the addition of a chorus, and danced as an unhallowed rythmic dance by the Phyr ric phalanx of One Horse Gulch, known as "The Festive Stags of Calaveras." Some unhappy ambiguities of expresion gave rise to many new readings, notes, and commentaries, which, I regret to state, were more often marked by ingen uity than delicacy of thought or expres sion. Never before did poet acquire such sudden local reputation. From the se clusion of McCorkle's cabin and the ob scurity of culinary labors, he was haled forth into the glowing sunshine of fame. The name of Chubbuck was written in letters of chalk on unpainted walls, and carved with a pick on the sides of tun nels. A drink known variously as " The Chubbuck Tranquilizer," or " The Chub buck Exalter," was dispensed at the bars. For some weeks a rude design for a Chubbuck statue, made up of illustra tions from circus and melodeon posters, representing the genius of Calaveras in brief skirts on a flying steed in the act of crowning the poet Chubbuck, was visible at Keeler's Ferry. The poet him self was .overborne with invitations to drink and extravagant congratulations. The meeting between Colonel Starbot- tie, ot biskyion, and Chubbuck, as pre viously arranged by our " Boston." late of Roaring Camp, is said to have been indescribably affecting. The Colonel em braced him unsteadily. " 1 could not return to my constituents at Siskyion, sir, if this hand which has grasped that of the gifted Prentice and the lamented Poe should not have been honored by .1 . . a ., .... . . tne toucn oi tne godlike (Jhubbuck. Gentlemen, American literature is look ing up. Thank you, I will take sugar in mine." It was " Boston" who indited letters of congratulations from H. W. Longfellow, Tennyson and Browning to Mr. Chubbuck, deposited them in the Sierra Flat Post-office, and obligingly consented to dictate the replies. The simple faith aud unaffected de light with which these manifestations were received by the poet and his patron might have touched the hearts of these grim masters of irony, bat for the sud den and equal development in both of the variety of weak natures. Mr. Mc Corkle basked in tbe popularity of his protege, and became alternately super cilious or patronizing toward the dwell ers of Sierra Flat ; while the poet, with hair carefully oiled and curled, and be decked with cheap jewelry and flaunting neck-handkerchief, paraded himself be fore the single hotel. As may be imag ined, this new disclosure of weakness afforded intense satisfaction to Sierra Flat, gave another lease of popularity to the poet, and suggested another idea to the facetious " Boston." At that time a young lady popularly and professionally known as the " Cali fornia Pet" was performing to enthusias tic audiences in the interior. Her spe ciality lay in the personification of youthful masculine character ; gamin of tbe street she was irresistible, as a ne gro-dancer she carried the honest miner's heart by storm. A saucy, pretty bra nette, she had preserved a wonderful moral reputation even under the Jove like advances of showers of gold that greeted her appearance on the stage at Sierra Flat. A prominent and deli ghted member of that audience was Milton Chubbuck. He attended every night. Every day he lingered at the Union Ho tel for a glimpse ot tne " uaiitornia Pet." It was not long before he received a note from her in " Boston's" most popular ana approvea temaie nana acknowledge ing his admiration. It was not long be. fore "Boston" was called upon to indite a suitable reply. At last, in further ance of his facetious design, it became necessary for " Boston" to call upon the young actress hnrsslf and secure her personal participation. To her ha un, folded a plan, the successful carrying out of which he felt would secure his fame to posterity as a practical humor ist. The " California Pet's" black eves sparKiea approvingly and mischievously. She only stipulated that she should see tne man nrst a concession to her fern mine weakness whsch years of dancing Juba and wearing trousers and boots nad not wholly eradicated from her will ful breast. By all means, it should be done. And the interview was arranged for the next week. It must not be supposed that during this interval of popularity Mr. Chub buck had been unmindful of his poetic qualities. A certain portion of each day ne was aosent trom town " a commuu- in with natur'," as Mr. McCorkle ex pressed it, and actually wandering in the mountain trails, or lying on his back under the trees, or gathering frag rant herbs and the bright-colored ber ries of the Marzanita. These and his company he generally brought to the editor's office late in the afternoon, often to that enterprising journalist s infinite weariness. Quiet and uncommunicative, he would sit there patiently watching him at his work until the hour for clos ing the oflice arrived, when he would as quietly depart. There was something so bumble and unobtrusive m th ise visits, that the editor could not find it in his heart to deny them, and accepting them like the woodpeckers, as a part of his sylvan surroundings, often forgot even bis presence, unce or twice moved by some beauty of expression in the moist, shy eyes, he felt like seriously admonish ing his visitor of his idle folly ; but his glance tailing upon the oiled hair and the georgeous neck-tie, he invariably thought better of it. The case was evi dently hopeless. Ihe interview between Mr. Chubbuck and tbe " California Pet," took place in a private room of the Union Hotel, pro priety being respected by the presence of that arch-humorist, " Boston." To this gentleman we are indebted for the only true account of the meeting. How ever reticent Mr. Chubbuck might have been in the presence of his own sex, to ward tho fairer portion of humanity, he was,like most poets, exceedingly voluble. Accustomed as the " California Pet " had been to excessive compliment, she was fairly embarrassed by tbe extrava gant praises of her visiter. Her person ation of boy characters, her dancing of tne " ihainpiou Jig, were particularly dwelt upoii with fervid but unmis takable admiration. At last, recovering her audacity, and emboldened by the presence of " Boston," the " California Pet " electrified her hearers by demand ing, half jestingly, half viciously, if it were as a boy or girl that she was the subject of his flattering admiration. " That knocked him out o time." said the delighted " Boston," in his subse quent account of the interview. " But do you believe the d 'I fool actually asked her to take him with her ; wanted to engage in the company." ihe plan, as briefly unfolded bv " Bos ton," was to prevail upon Mr. Chubbuck to make his appearance in costume (already designed and prepared by the inventor) before a Sierra Flat audience, and recite an original poem at the Hall immediately on the conclusion of the " California Pet's'" performance. At a given signal the audience were to rise and deliver a volley of unsavory articles (previously provided by the originator of the scheme); then-a select few were to rush on tbe stage, seize the poet, and, after marching him in triumphal pro cession through town, were to deposit him beyond its uttermost limits, with strict injunctions never to enter it again. To the first part of the plan the poet was committed, for the latter por tion it was easy enough to find partici pants. Ihe eventful night came, and with it an audience that packed the long, nar row room with one dense mass of human beings. The " California Pet" had never been so joyous, so reckless, so fascinat ing and audacious before. But the ap plause was tame and weak, compared to the ironioal outburst that greeted the second rising of the curtain, and the entrance of the born poet of Sierra Flat. Then there was a hush of expectancy, and the poet stepped to the foot-lights, and stood with his manuscript in his hand. His face was deadly pilo. Either there was some suggestion cf his fate iu the faces of his audience, or some mys terious instinct told him of his danger. He attempted to speak, but faltered, tot tered, and staggered to the wings. Fearful ot losing his prey, " Boston" gave the signal and leaped upon the stage. But at the same moment a light figure darted from behind the scenes, and delivering a kick that sent the dis comfited humorist back among the mu sicians, cut a pigeon-wing, executed a double-shuffle, and then advancing to the foot-lights with that inimitable look, that audacious swagger and utter aban don which had so thrilled and fascinated them a moment before, uttered the char acteristic speech : " Wot are you goin' to hit a man fur, when he's down. s-a-a-y ?" Tbe look, tbe drawl, tne action, the readiness, and above all the downright courage of the little woman, had its ef fect. A roar ot sympathetic applause followed the act " Cut and run while you can," she whispered hurriedly over her one shoulder, without altering the other's attitude of pert and saucy de fiance toward the audience. But even' as she spoke the poet tottered and sank fainting npou the stage. Then she threw a despairing whisper behind the scenes, " King down the curtain. There was a slight movement of op position in the audience, but among them rose the burly shoulders of Yuba uui, tbe tall, erect figure of Henry York of Sandy Bar, and the colorless, determined face of John Oakhurst. The ourtain came down. Behind it knelt the ' California Pet" beside the prostrate poet. " Bring me some water, ltun tor a doctor. (stop I VL.EAK OUT, ALL OF YOTJ I" . She had unloosed the gaudy cravat and opened the shirt-collar of the in sensible figure before her. Then she burst into au hysterical laugh. " Manuela 1" Her tiring-woman, a Mexican half breed, came toward her. " Help me with him to my dressing- room, quick ; then stand outside and wait. If any one questions you, tell them he's gone. Do you hear? He's gone. The old woman did as she was bade. In a few moments the audience had de parted. Before morning so also had the "California Pet," Manuela, and the poet of Sierra Flat. But, alas! with them also had de parted the fair fame of the " California Pet." Only a few, and these it is to be feared of not the best moral character themselves, still had faith in the stain less honor of their favorite actress. " It was a mighty foolish thing to do, but it'll all come out right yet.'' On the other hand, a majority gave her full credit and approbation for her undoubt ed pluck and gallantry, but deplored that she should have thrown it away upon a worthless object. To elect for a lover the despised and ridiculed vagrant f Sierra Flat, who had not even the manliness to stand up in his own de fense, was not only evidence of inherent moral depravity, but was an insult to the community. CoL Starbottle saw in it only another instance of the extreme frailty of the sex ; he had known similar cases ; and remembered distinctly, Sir, how a well-known Philadelphia heiress, one of the finest women that ever rode iu her kerridge, that, gad, Sir, had thrown over a Southern member of Con gress to consort with a d d nigger. The Colonel had also noticed a singular look in the dog's eye which he did not entirely fancy. He would not say any thing against the lady, Sir, but he had noticad and here happily the Colonel became so mysterious and darkly confi dential as to be unintelligible and in- uudibie to the bystanders. A few days after the disappearance of Mr. Chubbuck a singular report reached Sierra Flat, and it was noticed that " Boston," who since the failure of his elaborate joke had been even more de pressed in spirits than is habitual with great humorists, suddenly found that his presence was required in San Fran cisco. liut as vet nothing but the vaguest surmises were afloat, and noth ing definite was known. It wus a pleasant afternoon when the editor of the Sierra Flat Record looked up from his case and beheld the figure of Mr. Morgan McCorkle standing in the doorway. There .was a distressed look on the face of that worthy gentle man that at once enlisted the editor's sympathizing attention. He held an open letter in his hand, as he advanced toward the middle of the room. " As a man as has allers borne a fair reputation," began Mr. McCorkle, slow ly, " I should like, if so be as I could, Mister Editor, to make a correction in the columns of your valooable paper." Mr. Editor begged him to proceed. " Ye may not disremember that about a month ago I fetched here what so be as we'll call a young man, whose name might be as it were Milton Milton Chubbuck." Mr. Editor remembered perfectly. " That same party I'd knowed better nor fower year, two on 'em campin' out together. Not that I'd know him all the time, fur he war shy and strange at spells, and had odd ways that I took war nat'ral to the borned poet. Ye may remember that I said he was a borned poet '(" The editor distinctly did. " I picked this same party un in St Jo., and taking a fancy to his face, and kinder calklating he'd runn'd away from home for I'm a married man, Mr. Editor, and bev children ot my own and thinkin belike he was a borned poet." " Well ?" said the editor. " And as I said before, I should like now to make a correction in the columns of your valooable paper." " What correction ?" asked the editor. " I said, ef you remember mv words. as how he was a borned poet." " xes." From statements in this yer letter, it seems as how I war wrong. "Well?" " She war a woman." Bret Haute. Atlantic Monthly. The Yeudonio Column. The VendnniA Colnm... 1 fl i AaatrAv- ed at Paris by the crazy Commune, was one of the noblest monuments in the world. It was erected by the first Na poleon, its exterior Vim no- enoera,! wiffi magnificent historical bus reliefs, coui- lueuiorauva oi rrencu military achieve ments. It was made from the bronze of 1.200 cannon, catiturad frnm fha Rn.. eians, Prussians, and AuBtrians. It was Deguu on tbe zatb of August, 1806, and entirely finished in 1810. Total weight of the bronze. 600.000 Tjoundn. TIia peruses for the construction were as fol lows : melting tbe bronze, 104,837 fr. ; weighing same, 450 fr. ; chiseling, 267,. 219 fr.: the statue, bv Chaudaf t.innn fr. ; S3 sculptors for the baa reliefs, 199,- Jf . l i uuu ir. ; scuipiurea oornioes, 09,115 fr. ; general designs, n,wu ir. ; masons, lock smiths, carpenters, and plumbers, 601, 979 fr.; architects. 50,000 fr. ; 251,367 kilog. of bronze, at 4 fr., 1,005,468 fr. : total, 2,352.453 fr., or about $470,500. A HORRIBLE MYSTERY SOLVED. The Story of Ihe Hlolrn Cnrrlaice nnd Team f 1MB4, nnd the Mntllnted Body In Ihe Kl vcr-A Prince Htreet Murder Canfcaned. From tht K. Y. Evening Pott In October, 1864, five different pack ages, containing the mutilated remains of a human body, were found floating in the East River and the bay at different times and in different places, the first having been found on the 3d of October and the last on the 13th. All these fragments were wrapped in heavy brown Manila paper, enclosed in enamelled cloth used in the construction of furni ture and carriages, the whole having been tied together with strong cord technically known as a " cod-line." These discoveries created a great deal of excitement at the time, not only be cause of tho horrible nature of the mur der, but also on account of the story of the carriage stolen on Mercer street on the night of the murder, and of the cer tainty in the publio mind that the thieves were the murderers, and the mystery which subsequently surrounded the case, defying the utmost exertions of the police to unravel it. The dismembered limbs were carefully put together by surgeons, and were found to correspond in every particular, nothing being wanting save the arms, which were never found. The murdered man had evidently been healthy and vigorous, and about thirty-five years old, but no clue whatever could be discovered as to his identity. That a horrible murder hud been committed was certain, first because the body had been cut up by inexperienced hands, thus proving that the dismemberment was not a freak on the part of medical students, and secondly because two bullet wounds were found in tho skull. The police, both of this city and Brooklyn, left no plan un tried by which the perpetrator of this terrible crime might be detected ; but their labors were in vain. The head was photographed, and copies were sent to all police (stations throughout the coun try. The head itself was long kept On exhibition in a glass case in the Morgue in Brooklyn. On the night preceding the finding of the first package Patrick Flood, a Brook lyn hackinan, drove three soldiers to 97 Mercer street, in this city, and entered with tLeui to drink. While he was in the house two men came up, leaped, on the box of his carriage, and drove furi ously away. Several hours later, as a severe storm waa abating, the carriage was driven into a livery stable on Fulton avenue, near Navy street,' in Brooklyn, by a man who was c'osely wrapped in a thick gray shawl, under which he wore a velvet coat, broadcloth pantaloons, patent leather boots, vhite linen, all new, and a large diamond pin. The horses were reeking with perspiration, and had evidently been driven furiously, one of them having been lamed. The stranger left tbe carriage at the htable and went away, saying he would return. From that day he was not seen. After seven years this horrible mystery has been apparently solved thus : Ac cording to a letter l ecently received by a friend of the murdered man in March last, three men quarrelled at Sidney, Aut tralia. A fight ensued, in which oue man was fatally stabbed, the second shot and dangerously wounded, and the third terribly beaten. The ruffians were arrested, and the third man in prison made a confessicn, implicating himself and his companions in many crimes, and among others in the murder of one Joseph Smith, a deBerter from the Twentieth Connecticut Regiment, in this city in October, 1864. irom his story it appears that he. with his two companions and Smith, on the night of the 2d of October, were en gaged in a debauch, they having made a large sum of money by " bounty jump ing." Smith had $900 in his possession, and his villainous conip inions resolving to get this at all hazards, induced him to leave the saloon where they were drinking, in Prince street, and enter a large carpenter's shop, or carriage factory, in Prince street, where Smith lay down on a bench, and soon fell into a drunken Bleep. One of the men then shot him through the head, after which they cut up the body with the tools in the place, and tied up the frag ments in tbe manner described above. Two of the men then went out to look for a wagon, leaving, it is supposed, the third to clear away the traces of their crime. Then followed the theft of Flood's carriage, in which the ghastly parcels were driven to a lonely wharf in Williamsburg and then thrown into the river. The murderers immediately shipped for Australia, and have since re mained in that country, leading riotous and vicious Uvea until tneir arrest in March. The photograph of the murdered man has been shown to the widow of Joseph o l -AMI ,i a -w 1 oiuiiu, wuu ia Kuu living at uanoury, Conn., and has been partly identified by her, although the features were terribly distorted. Other persons, however, who knew Smith intimately, are convinced of his identity with the murdered man, and that this dark riddle has at last been solved. That the efficacy of medicine depends largely on the imagination of the pa tient, is a fact well known among the faculty aud utilized by skillful phy sicians. In fact it may be doubted whether the success of a good doctor does not depend more on his ability to manage tbe mind and direct the imagi nings of his patient than on his skill in dealings with his bodily organs. An old lady in Bloomington, 111., was re cently afflicted by a grievous ailment, for which she received from a doctor, who was her oracle in matters physical, a sovereign remedy in the form of pills. By the side of the pill box in her cup board was a box of glass beads of much the same size and color. At the proper intervals the old lady was wont to take the prescribed number, not of the pills but of the beads, and just as the last in the box was gone she was entirely cured of her complaint. The medicine and the old woman's fancy worked together " like a charm." MISCELLANEOUS UVm There is no better remedy for cold feet than to slap the leg briskly just above : the knee after raising the toot The in creased circulation produces immediate relief. A Chinese photographer in Ban Fran cisco, being upbraided by a lady cus tomer because the pictures didn't suit her, briefly replied : " No half hand somo ; how can t"' The " drummer" system has been abandoned by several of the largest wholesale houses of Chicago, which pro pose hereafter to employ the newspapers in communicating with their customers. A very sensible conclusion. Commissioner Pleasonton, of the In ternal Revenue Bureau, is greatly praiBed for giving the women clerks a chance at the higher grade of clerkships. One lady in his bureoji, after sustaining a thorough and most difficult examina tion, has been made a first-class clerk, and three other ladies have successfully passed the examination for second-class clerkships. A lady writes to a Chicago paper that " you might as well attempt to go up a garret without a stairway as to ascend into higher circles ot California society without ostentatious wealth. As for dress, San Francisco ladies surpass all. I have seen handsomer women, and more elegantly arrayed in that city than I ever saw in any other. Velvet dresses, laces, and diamonds, with furs that queens might envy, complelo the sum of life's ambition there." After Susan B. Anthony lu tured at Ripon, Wis., Bhe wanted some licreation and amusement, eo she took a walk on SunLuy around the graveyaru there. While she was enjoying the literature of a tombstone, she heard a lot of little boys saying, " That's her," and she thought, " such is fame." Congratulating herself that even the children of the land knew her, she was accosted by an urchin, who said : " Say, ain't you the old woman that walks up the wire on the circus tent to-morrow ?" Not far from Tappan, on the Palisades, the tree is pointed out from which Andre was hung. ) t is rather a notable feature in the landscape, and, as a local me morial, helps to break the monotonous refrain of the " house in which Washing ton slept." A traveller was under escort of a farmer thereabouts who pointed out the tree. " That's a famous t?ee, there." " What is it famous for ?" " I don't re member exactly, but I believe a general was hung there once." " What general Gen. "Washingtan ?" "Yes, that was his name." " What did they hang him for ?" " Well, he captured somebody, I beliov . 1 don't remember exactly." " Wasn't it Andre ?" " Ay, that was it ; they hung him for capturing Andre. I remember now." A silver mountain has been discovered in Colo, ado near a little mining village known as Georgetown. The ore was first discovered in the " slide," and afterward several valuable lodes wero struck. A correspondent of the Denver Jfewt was shown pieces of mineral, averaging from two hundred to three hundred pounds eaoh, taken from this mountain, which, when assayed gave a return of from 1,500 to 2,000 ounces per ton. As the mountain was near a village, the discov ery could not be long kept a secret ; aud as soon as the news got out there was such a general rush to the place of old and young amateur and professional miners, that at a little distance it resem bled a mammoth ant hill. A citizen of Detroit, after two months' sojourn in Colorado Territory, confirms the statement of the health-giving qual ities of that region, in respect to lung and throat diseases. It is not inaptly called the summit of the continent, rang ing from four thousand to ten thousand feet above the level of tbe sea, and the bed of the Platte Valley, at Denver, a mile higher than New York or Phila delphia. Partly owing to this great ele vation, and partly owing to other causes, the air is exceedingly rare and pure, and the consequence is one breathes fuller and faster, and soon increases the breath ing capacity. Of this there can be no doubt, if it be true, as stated, that the chest of a well-proportioned man by actual measurement has been known to expand three inches in as many weeks after arriving in that country. A tem porary visit howover, it is admitted, can afford only temporary relief, and the in valid who seeks permanent restoration and "length of days," must make the Territory his permanent home. It is announced that the seventeen year loousts have made their appearance in various parts of the country, and great apprehensions have been expressed that they would work serious injury upon the growing crops. There are sev eral misapprehensions in vogue in re gard to tbe seventeen-year loousts. la the first place, the insect known by that name is not a locust at all, and is no more like the Asiatio looust, which is so destructive to vegetation, than a hum ming bird is like a flying-fish. It can not devour grain or other vegetable growths, for the excellent reason that it has no jaws to devour with. It lives only two or three weeks, and during its brief life takes all the nutriment it re quires, which is very little, by suction. But it often appears in great numbers, and renders a large extent of territory alive and vocal with its murmuring, bumming noise, and frequently causes the atmosphere to become very offensive by the smell arising from the accumula tion of its dead. The insects have a sting, called the ovipositor, which is about half or three-quarters of au inch, iu length, and with this they will perfo rate the limbs of trees, depositing eggs in the cavities thus made. The limbs chosen for this purpose are generally young and green, and from the plaoe of deposit to their end they usually become yellow and dry. This leads to the be. lief that great mischief has been done, when in fact there is very little or no real harm. The seventeen-year locust, 6 called, is not an agreeable visitor, bub is comparatively a harmless one. Young fruit nurseries suffer more than any thing else from its visitations. EecJMnlt,