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A FAMILY PAPER, DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AGRICULTURE, AND GENERAL NEWS, and Machinery, together with a force of compe tent and skillful workmen, we feel that onr fa cilities are second to those of no other establish ment in the place. VOL. II. KO. 22. "PAIKESVHXE LAKE COUNTY, OHIO, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1872. WHOLE NO. 74. I A. BLM Of CONTEXTS. Fist Fioi. Sword and Plough from the German 1 he Repented Sin Clara Moreton Remarkable Structure of the A nrient A meri- can Landand, Laic Adrigor Mred'in the Bone. -V. Y. World Ocean of Love Exchange Ruia in the- Eat Land and Law Adeinor Growing Old Exchange The Cheerful Gicer llarper Weekly r The Bcepett Well in the World. Exchange A Iioue of Our Oirn Harper Weekly A Leuon far would-be Critics Exchange Melange : .... Compilation Second Vagi. Editorial Paragraph Book anp Paper Stic of the Week Third Page. stranger' Guide titinen Directory Local New A mong Our Keigltbor A Marine Market, Home and Foreign Fourth Page. Toptey Tuney E.M.B. Agricultural Compilation Iteliglou X&ut Compilation Practical Hint Compilation SWORD 1ND PLOIGH. From the German of Wolfgang lluller. There once was a Count, so Pre heard it said, Who felt that his end drew near ; And ie called his sons before his bed. To part them his goods and gear. He called for his plongb. lie called for his sword, That gallant, good and brave ; They broughthnn both at their father'! word, And thus he bis blessings gave: "My first-born son, my pride and might, lio thou my sword retain ; My castle on the lordly height, And all my broad domain." - On thee, my well-loved younger boy, My plough I here bestow ; . A peaceful lifeshalt thou eujoy, In the quiet vale below." Contented sank the sire to rest, - Now all was given away ; The sons hold true his lost behest, K'enon their dying day. Now tell ns what came of the steel and flame, Of the castle and its knight 1 And tell us what came of the vale so tame, And the humble peasant wight r O ask not of me what the end may be I Ask of the country round ; The castle is dust, and the s word is rust, The beight is but desert ground. But the vale spreads wide In the golden pride Of the autumn sunlight now ; It teems and it ripens larand wide. And the honor abides with the plough. The Repented Sin. BT CLARA MORKTON. CHAPTER III. R. MORRIS, living In fear as lie did, resolved that he would in some way get Edith out of the house. Fort une favored him. Frederic Morris Sliding her alone lu the work-room one day, made god use of the time by telling her in impas sioned and broken sentences how very dearly he loved her. Mr. Morris over beard the declaration, and without wait ing to hear more, hastened down to the parlor, and sent one of the children up to tell Frederic that he wauted him. After sending him to the counting-house on some errand, he paid Edith a visit in her own quarters. She was surprised at seeing him there, but having no sus picion of the avowal being overheard, she was able to meet him without mani festing in her face much of the emotion that was busy, at her heart. . She was not suffered to maintain her composure long. 'How much does my wife owe you, Miss Clark ?" said he. "My month is up to-day, sir, and Mrs. Morris paid me this morning; but my name is Clair not Clark, sir," answered Edith, a lovely smile resting on her beautiful mouth, and lighting up her soft, azure eyes. "Clair or Clark, it's all one, or ought to be to a person who lias.no better right, to a name than you have, Miss," replied Mr. Morris. Edith looked up with a stare of amaze ment. Her refined and gentle nature did not for an instant divine the cruelty ' of this brutal speech. "What do you mean, Mr. Morris?" she said at length. "What do I mean ? I wonder at your boldness in asking me such a question. But it's all of a piece with the rest of your conduct; your artful ways have done you no good, let me tell you." "Mr. Morris, I demand it as my right that you tell me what these insinuations mean," said Edith, her eyes fairly llash- ing, "my character is all that is left to me to lose what have I done to forfeit your good opinion?" "Your character ! humph!" Mr. Mor ris spoke with a sneer, but seeing Edith turn so pale at his words, lie added in a different tone, "that your character has no firmer basis to rest upon is not your fault, I suppose; but it is your fault that you liave led on a boy like Frederic as you have done. For shame! Miss Clair! Don't interrupt me. I know more than you think I do, and if you don't wish - for a public exposure you will never enter my doors again. You need not prepare for a scene, Miss Clair a hun dred ot them could not move me ; nor will I listen to aay excuses, nor apolo gies, nor explanations. 1 snail never change an iota, and that you may know how impossible your union with ray son would be, I will tell von that I would sooner marry him to Biddy, the house' maid, than to you. It- is ii no light manner that the world visits the mother's sin upon her illegitimate offspring.' Edith rose to her feet with such calm, pure dignity with such a holy light beaming rrom ner eyes, that Mr. Morris was held in awe for a moment, and obliged to listen where he had intended to have commanded silence. "You have said enough, sir enough to prevent me trom ever enceriug your presence again. Your son will do me tha justice to tell you that which I shall leave unsaid ; and may God forgive you Mr. Morris, for the cruel knowledge you liave given me. 7 Edith left the house without one word of farewell to any of its inmates. Mr Morris explained her absence by saying in the presence ot the taunly, that hav- ing iiad reason to suspect her of some improper conduct, he went to her to ex postulate with her, when hmling her so sname-iiiced anil uoiu anout the matter lie had ordered her to leave the house, and proinoiteu ner irom homing any intercourse witn the niemDers or hi family. Every one looked the surprise and dis may that they felt at this piece of infor mation. rederic colored up to the tern pies, but his brave young heart did not let shame prevent him Irom speaking 'Father, 1 hope I have in no way been the cause or tli's unpleasant affair am quite willing to acknowledge before you all that 1 love r,iia, lor i am "Frederic, I command you to be still Boy as von are, what do von know of love? A sewing girl! and one of doubt ful reputation at that. I congratulate yon upon vour choice." The wilv man had overshot his mark Assailing Edith's character before hi son, he had gone one step too fur. Fred eric s eyes flashed. "Of what improper conduct do vou accuse her? Who dares to say that her reputation is uououiui iih questioned eagerly. "What right have vou to demand thi knowledge of me?" said his father, with an air ot stern defiance. 'The right which everv one who loves has to shelter and protect the object of that love," answered Frederic, fear lessly. "Then I suppose we may consider yon, sir, an acknowledged and accepted lover," said Mr. Morris, with n sneer. Frederic hesitated for a moment, but the truth was strong within him, nnd -mortifying as it was, he answered bold ly, "Xo sir. I am an acknowledged and a rejected lover." "Who is all this fuss about?" said uncle Harry.- - - "It's of no consequence of no conse quence at all," said Mr. Morris, hur riedly, "we will say no more about it at present." But little Mary clambered up into her uncle's lap, and unobserved, whispered in his ear, "Edith Clair." At that name the circle before him faded into air. He saw no more his sis ter, her husband and their children. One memory alone filled his thoughts one form alone was presented to his vis ion. Edith Clair, with her young and beautiful face, her pure and trusting heart. Ah, oftentimes and bitterly had he repented that moment of wild ex citement, when his unbridled passions had outraged that purity, and betrayed that trust, yet never with a keener pain did it come home to his heart than now. How worthless seemed his fortune to him, in comparison with the disinter ested love that was lost to him forever. True, he had but to speak the) word and elegant mansions, .would be - at his disposal; yet, he felt himself homeless, tor all that gives to home its charm aud grace was wanting. Nor might he ever hope to wiu such love again, as once had been his. Age was slowly but surely creeping upon him his heart was soured by rude contact v.ith the world, and suspicion's legion of sentinels guarded it from the near approach of affection. Homeless and childless! How keenly those words brought home to him the retribution of his sin. He knew that Edith Clair was dead the Edith he had known. He had heard of it in his In dian home, from one to whom he had written for information; but he knew no more, for Edith's mother had guarded the secret well ; burying in her bosom her troubles and their source. As he leaned back in his.chair the workings of his face plainly showed the agitation of his mind Mrs. Morris was convinced of the truth of her suspicions and her resolu tion was taken. At the same hour in her simple little room in Mrs. Dayton's, Edith sat alone, very wretched in the new trouble that had come upon her. - Her burning cheeks, her throbbing temples, from which the rich auburn hair was pushed back, her wild eyes, were all proofs of the extent of feeling her disgrace had awakened. . : Mrs. Dayton knocked at her door, but received no answer. ..Opening it, she looked in to see if she was there. "Edith, Mr. Harold is down stairs waiting for you," she said. "He need not wait," answered Edith, "I shall not go down." v-"' "Why, what is the matter, child?" questioned Mrs., Dayton, surprised and startled at her appearance." Edith flung herself on the bed, and buried her face In the pillows. " I will never see Frank Harold any more,", she, sobbed, at length. -."His parents have reason enough now to ob ject to me." "What Js the matter,; child?. You must comedown and see him, he will make it all right." "I will not go down, I will never see him again. Tell him so. Tell him not to come here any more." "I shall not carry any such message, Edith. If you have had any trouble with him, come down and talk it over. You love him too well too quarrel with lnm, you know you do."' '"If I loved him fifty times as well I would not go-near him now. I am in earnest, Anne Dayton : you must give him such n message that he will never come here, unless you want to drive me from your roof. Tell him I don't love him tell him anything I don't care what j'ou say to offend him, so that I never have to look in hiseyes again. Kdith would neither listen to argu- inennt nor entreaty, nor would she con fide her troubles to Mrs. Dayton, conse quently the latter was obliged to put her own construction upon them. When ie went down stairs, she told Mr. Har old that she thought. Edith must have heard something that his parents had said respecting her, for that she posi tively ret used seeing him again, and threatened to leave her roof if an mter- lew was torced upon her. "1 never reamed the child had so much spirit," continued sne, "sue nas always seemed such a gentle little creature." "But l cannot ttunK that my parents ave interfered again," said Frank liar old ; "there must be some other cause am sure ot it. Won't yon give me a piece of paper until I write a few Hues to her ? ' , . . The paper was brought, and he wrote niMin one side obit: "Mv dear Edith. you have no right to deny mc the privi lege ot ftt!mng everr-sorrow- with you. after what has passed between 3. It is my province to bear Me s burdens ior you let me see you, aud hear from your own dear lips what new trial vou lave, -uo not reiuseitnis my nrst re quest, or you will pain me unutterably. lour iaitntul n raiiK." In a few minutes lie received his an swer. . - - Your parents will soon hear of another obstacle to our union. I do not choose that you should again be brought to the brink ot the grave, to wring trom them another reluctant consent to the contin nance of our interviews; beside I have to-day received an offer that may prove more advantageous, l am no longer your Edith." A halt an nouratter these words were written Edith would have recalled them but it was too late. Frank Harold had read them, and gone away without making another attempt to see her. . Editli feared that he would wear her out with his perseverance, and following tfie impulse of the moment she penned those words in hopes or awakening his pride. In cooler moments she despised herself for her artifice, for bitter was the thought that she had made herself ap pear unworthy oi his respect. Why had 1 not courage to tell him the truth, and show him ttiat I was firm in my resolutions never to permit him to share my disgrace! How mnch easier would it be lor me to bear my troubles now; un, how could 1 have done m,v sell so much injustice!" In such lamentations the night wore awav. Morning came, the heavens all roseate with light her song bird by the window pouring lortn its sweetest trills the busy hum of life going on in the street below, everything the same all around her, but in ner Heart - how changed. Life seemed to her no longer desirable. She wished herself in the grave-vard beside the dead mother, who had leu her such an inheritance ot shame. She stood before the gliiss to arrange her hair, and started back at the sight of the pale and haggard face, with its glassy eyes looking out upon her a mockery, as it were, ot her tormer sell, how could one night have wrought great a change? Ah, it had been a night of exceedin mental torture. Mrs. Dayton, who soon alter entered ner room, telt that; some terrible affliction must have fallen upon ner young lrienci, Dnt in vain she en deavored to win Edith's confidence Her answers were out ot character with her former sell she seemed so snlle and unapproachable, that Mrs. Dayton was at a loss wnac course to pursue to ward her. At length she resolved to go to the place where reditu nan last been sewing, and ascertain what had sent her so suddenly home in the middle of the day. ' She well knew whose house" she should be obliged to enter, and she dreaded an interview with a man whom she now so thoroughly despised ns she did Mr. Morris. She had never told Edith the result of her application to him on her behalf, as she had never questioned her, and long ago Edith had forgotten the name that was found in her grandmother's pocket, for all events in those hours of grief made but slight impression upon her. But' while Mrs. Dayton was preparing for her visit, she was surprised by a call from Mrs. Mor ris' brother. Mr. Kalston was not much over forty years of age, and as the cli mate of India had in many respects pared him, he was still a fine looking man. This morning there- was such a depth of sadness in his clear, bine -eyes, that Mrs. Dayton at onee felt attracted toward him, and gave him the minutest particulars of the information he came n search of. - He did not leave the house until be had humbled himself before his ehild. and with tears supplicated the forgive ness wnicn death denied that ne should receive at the hands of the mother. Edith's bruised heart was too much in need of a refuge to turn' aside from a father's love. . . ; .n.-..... Trom that hour she dated a new ex istence. Her heart overflowed with gratitude or the devoted fondness of her new-found parent, and she resolved to dedicate her life to him. With such a support as his love to cling to, she felt limy aDie to near tne odium wtiien the stain of her birth cast upon her ; but she never wavered in her determination to not suffer another to share that reproach ltn ner. - Her father seemed to have renewed his youth, in the unanticipated happi ness that had oome upon him j and yet there were moments when pangs, keener than any he had heretofore known, troubled his bosom. It was, whenever suddenly entering his daughter's apart ment, he would find her f n tears, and al though she ever met him with a smile, his own heart told him that she had abundant cause for shame1 and sorrow. He had provided Edith and himself with suites of rooms at one of the most fashionable hotels, but they lived in the strictest privacy and seclusion. Mr. Morris, outrageous as he was at the dis covery his brother-in-law made, con sidered it politic to dissolve the ban he nail placed upon the intimacy of .Edith with his family. And union between her and his son no longer seemed so un desirable. But Frederic soon learned to be fully satisfied with the cousinly love that Edith not unwillingly gave him. The alluring face of a new acquaint ance had something to do with his resig nation, ana Judith round to her relief that he was still too young and too sus ceptible to form any stable attachment. CHAPTER IV. The Harolds lived on Blank Square, in one of the mostelegant residences in the city. Edith had been a schoolmate of Lucy Harold's, and Frank's attachment dated as far back as his schoolboy days. seiore ettner ot tne gins were old enough to feel the difference in their social po sition, the mischief was done; nor was rank, who -was by several years the eldest, sufficiently worldly and selfish in his views to be prepared for the opposi tion which he met, when upon the death of Mrs. Clair, he announced to his pa rents nm intention or marrying Judith. His love only increased. In violence- by their persecution, yet. they in no v relented until a nervous fever prostrated mm so low that they reared tor his lire. Then, stipulating that he should not marry for two years, they gave their consent to the continuance of his visits devoutly hoping that some of the attrac tions winch in the meantime they should take particular pains to' throw in his way, would win him from his allegiance. Matters were in this condition, when Edith's note came like a thunderbolt to Frank, stunning him with the -doubts aud suspicions which an unbiased judg ment would nave enaoied.htm to com bat. , -ho:! t f':;?-i. -f ,-. :.-'!-.-. There were hours when his own heart told him that it could not be that she had written in sincerity that it must have been from some whim of which her own gentle nature would soon make her ashamed : but in vain she waited for refutation. The days wore away, and no tidings came to him of Edith. " His parents reioiced too much at the discontinuance of his visits to be partic-1 uiar in questioning the cause ; but they gleaned enough to comprehend that Frank considered himself aggrieved, and that he had been disappointed in his es timate of Edith's character t They nat urally concluded tnat she bad preterred pome wealthier suitor, at which they were, of course, more pleased thah piqued. " : . Although they lived in considerable style, they were not wealthy. Mr. Har old was not estimated to be worth as yet a realized tortune, ana he was therefore partly dependant upon his practice as a lawyer, to support the style in which they lived. It was the ardent desire of both parents that their children should marry well. . Lucy had been sent to boarding-school to remain until she bad passed through the earlier pare of those perilous teens, during" which seasou young persons are so apt to let thur hearts run away with their heads ; as, who should know so well as Mrs. Har old, who would have fancied "that scape grace Ralston.": as her mother called him, had it not been said mother's most determined partiality for Arthur Harold and his Inheritance an inheritance which came near, being squandered in the wild davs of his vouth. Mrs. Harold had lived to give thanks that sue nad not thrown herselt awav npon her first choice; aud seeing how much happier her lot had been for sub mitting to the guidance of her parents, she. was anxious that her children should be made happy in the same way. . Mas ter Frank early showed a disposition to cnoosc ior himself, in more things than affairs matrimonial, but the geutle and quiec sister had more amiability, and seemed lair to realize all her mamma's wishes. - Mr, Harold came in from his office one evening in fine spirits. l met an old friend to-Jay, Anne, whom 1 had not seen for I don't know how many years ; an old lover of yours. too now, guess who it is," he said. Mrs. Harold surmised in a moment who it might be, and she answered Im mediately." s- " " "I should not be surprised if it were Harry Ralston, whom we all buried year3 ago, for I heard the other day that he had come back trom the Indies, and was as rich as Croesus." "You are right It is he. Jfow, would you believe it possible that he has re turned a bachelor?" "Indeed! why, I heard he had pur chased the old Brighton Mansion, and was going to have it torn down, and re build upon its site. What does he want of a house if he has no wife to put it it?' "But he hasaneice. or ward, or some thing of the sort, who is to keep house for him. By the way, what a capital opportunity for . Frank. Ralston told me that she was the loveliest little crea ture in the universe. He has settled everything upon her, he savs." ."Fob! ten toone he'll marry her him self," answered Mrs, Harold, with most emphatic toss of her head. "No, not a bit of it.- If yon were hear bim talk you would know it. was uoloveanair. He has grown (mite pa triarchal aud fatherly, 1 assure you. But you will have an opportunity of judging tor yourself, tor he Is coming around this evening." "Well, I am sure I do not know of any one whom 1 should be more pleased to see," and Mrs. Harold glanceu at the mirror opposite, adjusting her blond can as she spoke. "Has he change much ?" . "Perhaps not more than you or IJ answered Mr. Harold, "yet you will find lew traces of the wild Harry Ralston you used to know. Hu looks to me like a man subdued by some great sorrow Mrs.. Harold thought of his youn days, and wondered if it were possibli that but no, we will not betray Mrs Harold's meditations for the next half hour. At the end of that time, Mr. Ral ston was announced, and in the matter-of-fact way in which their acquaintance was renewed, she found that any youth ful predilection he might have had for her, had long since been forgotten,' or remembered only to speak jestingly of. But she ' noted the change which had attracted even her husband's less ob servant eyes. There was a frequent gloom in his manner, a sadness in his tone, which excited her curiosity, and led her at length to make an attempt to gather something ot his history duting the years of his absence. "How strange that you should never have fancied any of those attractive creatures that one reads about in novels, where East India life is brought in some of those interesting officer's wid ows, for instance," she said. "Such a thing might have been possi ble," answered Mr. Ralston, "had I left this country a year sooner, but during that period of my life events occurred which rendered it impossible." "What!" exclaimed Mr. Harold, rous ing from the brown study in which he seemed to have been indulging, while nis wire ana mend were cnattiug or tne past. , "What ! you don't mean to say that you ever found out that that is, you never had any trouble from that trolic of ours at the falls ; but of course you had not, or you would have been sure to have come to me with it." Mr. Ralston looked up Inquiringly. "What frolic !" he asked. "That sleighing party when you took out that pretty Miss , oh, I forgot her name, but zounds! I don't forget her face though she was a splendid crea ture. Why, you know who I mean, Ralston, that widow's daughter that you were so crazy arter one spell. Don't you remember? "I married you that night." A faint hue flushed Mr. Ralston's face but left it paler than before. xes, yes, 1 remember." he answered hastily, and would have started another topic of conversation, had it not been that Mr. Harold continued, Ana i, too, remember it right well. for a fine fright I had about it. You know I went through the ceremony for Phil Norris and his ladye love; and bless you, her parents' found it out, and talked of prosecuting me. Of course, if I had not Imbibed a little too much of that hot whisky punch I should never nave gone so tar; but then it all turned out right for them, for neither Phil nor his wife have repented the match, I war rant." My God! Arthur! You don't mean to have me understand that I was that night legally married!" exclaimed Mr. Ralston, springing to his feet. '""Come, come, it Is too late to quarrel about that now," answered Mr. Harold. uuarrei about it! Arthur Hai old, if you can prove that to have been a legal marriage, x win give you tne bait or my fortune." CJreat beaded drops stood upon Mr. Ralston's fa'ee, so intense was his excite ment the muscles of his face Quivered. and his breath came pantingly. Mr. Harold Knew mere was no trifling there. ".Yes, Harry you are a married man. can prove that if you wish it to be proven." Mr. Kalston sank . back in his chair. overcome by bis strong emotion. Tears crept through the pale, slender fingers that were pressed over his eyes tears of Joy that his pure and lovely child could now wear nis name uuoiustnngly. Edith's melancholy moods had, of late, iven ner latner increasing anxiety con cerning iier. He attributed all to her exceeding sensitiveness, not knowing that another sorrow was busv at her heart ; for Edith had withheld the con fidence which she knew 'would distress her fattier still more, ' as she - remained lirin in her determination to lead a se cluded life, and by no alliance to share the disgrace that she felt so keenly. motning could equal ner surprise, when, upon her father's return that night, he communicated to her the news which had given so much joy. Mie saw at a glance that her unfortu nate mother had been no less sinned against, as the marriage had been con sidered but a jest; and yet, she was suf ficiently alive to the opinion of the world to rejoice that she had a legal claim upon tier father for her love as wei! as his tortune. Clasped in his "arms, she kept back from him no longer the story of her love, and well pleased was her father to heat that the son of his old friend had wooed Edith when she was considered but a portionless orphan. ' Mr. Ralston was not long in making satisfactory explanations of Edith's con duct to rank, whom turn took his sea- sou of exaltation in informing his pa rents what a regular C inderella his little sewing girl had turned out to be. The engagement so pleasing to all, was in the course of a" few weeks publicly announced. - ' Mr, Morris hearing of it, called one day at Mr. Harold's office. Alter some common-place conversa tion, he said. 1 suppose you Know, Mr. ' Harold, what claims the young lady, whom your son is going to marry, has to her name?" Mr. Harold was prepared tor his in terferencef and he answered promptly, Most certainly 1 do, sir. as uone have better opportunities of kpowing, having myself performed the marriage cere mony lor her parents, l also Know something of the patronage which you extended to her, when she stood more In need of friends than she does now, and for any courtesies which you may have shown her then, I thank you In my son's name, l beg you to excuse me now, as my business demands my attention." The discomfited Mr. Morris felt him self thwarted at every turn. He was at a loss to ascertain how much of sarcasm there might have been in Mr. Harold's speech, but he concluded that it would be more politic to acknowledge no hid den meaning. Jiany tne ensuing winter, Jiiiitn, as the happy bride of Frank Harold, took possession orjthe elegant home her lather had prepared for her. In that home her aunt and cousins are frequent guests but Mr. Morris has never yet ventured to cross the threshold, although Editli has sent him frequent invitations to join their reunions; she rightly feeling that Li 1 V.J 1 .. .1 1 uiuuii uugiib iai ue saennueu uuu cuuui eu before family ties are broken, or hearts estranged, who from the same source have caught their pulsation Mrs. Ralston, Edith's grandmother, thinks it a weary month that passes without her presence, for a few hours at least In the old homestead ; and even the , . . . surly grandpapa loses some of his mo- roseness at sight ot her lovely, laughing tace, and the sound or her sweet, low voice. , Every year, upon the anniversary of Edith's birth, Mr. Kalston closets him self alone. What passes there, in the solitude of his room, is known only to himself aud his Uod. Bitter tears, and broken prayers,and remorseful thoughts as he pictures her hours ot anguish must at least be his portion then ; and thus must it be until he goes down Into tne grave, to sleep dv the side or his De frayed love. "When the last trump shall have awakened him, may we not hope that his repentance will avail him be fore that Judge "who seeeth not as men see?" REMARKABLE STRUCTURES OF THE ANCIENT AMERICANS. In a review on the work on" "Ancient America," by John D. Baldwin, the Liondon Atkemtenm says; Nat many periiaps, of those who habitually sneak of the "Old nnd New Worlds" as a geo graphical expression tuny realize the idea of a dual world of civilization aud progress; yet it is certain that, side by side with that ot Jijgypt and Assyria there grew up in America another cul ture, equal at one time, in art, power and extent, and aituougn, in so far our existing evidence enables ns judge, unconnected, yet greatly resemb ling in system that on which our own civilization has been established; an were It not that these two cultures un fortunately came in contact during the climax of Spanish ecclesiastical bigotry and intolerance, the so-called new world might have boasted of an ancient his tory corresponding to our own, So completely, however, has the law of the survival of the strongest asserted itself under the influence of the monkish ex ponents of Christianity so effectually did they succeed in snuffing out all trace of art and culture amongst the people whom they had conquered that writers may now be found who, in the face of the evidence afforded by ruined cities, palaces, aqueducts, and paved roads, deny the claim of the American continent to any ancient civilization higher than what might have been de rived from the wild Indians, such as the Iroquois and the Algonquoins, whom the Pilgrim Fathers encountered in the seventeenth century, Such views as these receive no support from Mr. Bald- The relics or ancient American vilization are to be found in those sep arate but nearly contiguous areas situ ated near the point of junction of the two continents. - Commencing with- the northernmost of these divisions, commonly known as the region ot the mound builders, we find in the neighborhood of the lakes, at the northern apex of the triangular re- fion above mentioned, In Michigan, owa, Missouri,and particularly in Wis consin, a tract ot country characterized by the presence of large mounds de signed in the form of animals, birds, serpents or men, in huge relievos. Xext to this we have a district ot which the State of Ohio may be regarded as the nucleus, but which occupied the whole valley of the Ohio and its tributaries. extending into Western Virginia, Indi ana, Michigan, Illinois and- Missouri. The special characteristics of the area consist ot pyramidal mounds, usually from six to thirty feet high, but rising j in some cases to sixty and ninety feet; they were generally square or rectangu lar, and were ascended by winding staircases on the outside. This district is also remarkable for lines of entrench ment, from five to thirty feet high, in closing usually from one to thirty acres, but extending at times to 100, 200, aud even 400 acres. They frequently con sist of combinations of square and cir cular figures, ttie accuracy and perfec tion of which prove, as Messrs. Squir s Davis have remarked, that the builders possessed some standard of measurement and hadjthe means of determining angles. There are no less than 10.000 of these mounds and 15,000 inclosures in Ohio alone. Lower down in the valley of the Mississippi, and along the fertile plains bordering the Gulf of Mexico, and to westward over the Rio tiraude, the in closures are smaller and less numerous, -and the mounds, though of the same character and more plentiful, are lower, and consist of truncated pyramids and pyramidal platforms. Broad terraces, elevated- passages, aguadas of artificial ponds, and the use of sun-dried bricks, are peculiar to this region, the remains of which approach more closely in char acter to those of Central America than the ruins of the northward. Taken as a whole, the mound builders appear to have been inferior in culture to their Central American and Peruvian neigh bors. They were an agricultural peo ple ; yet they made use of spun cloth, their pottery was in some cases almost equal to that of Peru, and there are grounds for supposing that they had a knowledge or astronomy. Their tools and other relics were composed of cop per, silver,porphery, greenstone and ob sidian. Metallurgy, in the proper sense of the term, does not appear to have been introduced amongst them, for their copper tools were beaten into form, and contained in some cases blotches of sil ver just as it Is found in the matrix in the pure state on the shore of Lake Su perior, where tney worKeo it in open cuttings from the surface. Turning to Mexico and uentral Amer ica, we find here also the antiquities of this central region distributed in three distinct areas. In Chiapa, Tabasco, Oxaca, Yucatan, Honduras, Tehuante pec and Guatemala, the ruins consist of stone built cities of great extent, palaces richly ornamented, and standing upon raised plattorms similar to those lound in the lower portion of the Mississippi valley, in all probability, served the same purpose. Most of these ruined cities are thickly overgrown with trees; and it is Known that other cities lie buried in the forest districts, which liave been as yet but little explored. More is known respecting the Mexican area from its having been the centre of Aztec civilization at the time of the conquest; and though some doubt has been thrown upon the accounts of the city of Mexico given by the Spaniards, it is certain that a comparati velyhigh state of civilization, although inferior to that of Central America, existed in the valley of Mexico at that time. Their city had considera ble architectural pretensions, and their temple was a rectangular terraced pyra mid, ascending by a flight of steps on the outside, like the pyramids of the mound builders; but they did not pos sess the ptionetic alphabet of the Central Amei icans, and their records consisted of picture writings. The third sub-divifiou ot this central area is found in New Mexico and Arizo na amongst the Pueblo Indians, the chief characteristic of whose culture consists in their residence in large com munal buildings, each of which contains an entire town or villlage of small rooms ranged in three or four stories above each other, forming a huge rectangular structure, not altogether unlike some of the great edifices in the ruins ot dent ral America, such as the palace of the Pal- enque or tne Uasa del Uobernado at Uxmal, but yet differing from them both in character and purpose. These build ings were in use at the tune of the con quest, and are still Inhabited in some places. The .Pueblos are vastly super ior in culture to the wild tribes of Indi ans on the north, witii whom they are constantly at war, The Peruvian ruins consist of cities. palaces, fortresses, aqueducts, one of which is 450 miles long, and great paved roads, admirably constructed through out the whole length of the empire, which latter were originated during the earlier civilization, and restored bv the lncas. Their work was admirably done; but it is everywhere seen that their ma sonry, although sometimes ornamented, was generally plain and massive In style They bad no inscriptions, though it is thought that at the time of the conquest they possessed the art of writing in hier- oglyP"lcs- Their temples were not high truncated pyramids, and their great edi flees were not erected upon terraces, as In Central America; but the doors in the older buildings around Lake Titicaca had the peculiarity of being narrower at the top, like some ot the prehistoric struc tures of Europf:. Their tools were of bronze; but it lias been conjectured that although Iron was uuknown In the times of the lncas, it may have been employed in tne earner times, as tnat ore is auiiu dant in Peru, aud some of the existing languages, if not all, have names for the metal, in their Knowledge ot astrono my, they appear to have been inferior to the Central Americans. The antiquity of the mound builders is established by the growth of lorcst surmounting their remains. In the debris covering the ancient copper mines ot Lake Superior, trees showing .ma rings of annual growth have been found growing; and Sir Charles Lyell counted 800 rings in the trunk of a tree growing on ouo of the mounds at Marietta, it l evident, also, in both cases, that several generations of trees liave preceded those now standing in the soil. In the valloy or the Mississippi, tour terraces are usu ally seen, marking lour distinct eras subsidence since the river began to flow The ancient works, mounds aud enclo sures are found on all these terraces ex cent the fourth or lowest; showing that thU last ferrate, which probably marks the longest period of any, was formed since the works were erected.' Some of the mounds have also been destroyed by streams tnatnave since receded moretnan half a mile, and which, at present, could not reach them under any circumstances. The antiquity of the latest relics ot the mound builders is further confirmed by the state of decay in which all the skele tons of these people are found. Al though the soil is not unfavorable to their . preservation, only one or two skulls have been found in a condition to be restored. In Central America, simi lar evidences of great antiquity is af forded by the growth of timber, and by the fact that everything perishable has disappeared, except the lintels of some of the doors of the more modern struc tures of Yucatan. In Peru, James Wilson found, at vari ous points on the coast near Quito, an cient pottery and other manufactured articles finely wrought, and some ' of gold, beneath a marine deposit of six feet, having trees growing on the sur face which were older than the Spanish invasion; which proves that this land must have been submerged beneath the ocean and again elevated to its former position since these relics : were de posited. BRED IN THE BONE. In 1868-9, one of the most promising students, intellectually speaking, of the Kentucky University, at Lexington, was a young man named C. B. Fitzpatrick, from Georgetown, in the name State. Al though but twenty-four years old, he had been a distinguished officer of na tional cavalry during the war of the re bellion, and bore upon bis body, in nu merous frightful scars, the record no less of his turbulence in private life than of his headlong ferocity in battle. For the Kentuckian, though second to none of the 800 fellow-collegians matriculating with him during that -session either in excellence of scholarship or regularity of attendance, was an ingrained desper ado of the most aggressive type, forever alternating his intellectual pursuits with desperate affrays, n which his six feet of stature, : pleudid muscular devel opment, and quick appeal to pistol or knife, made him the terror of the as sailed. Despite this savagery of lower nature, however, his fine features, spas modic generosity of disposition and no table command of elegant speech made him a kind ot hero to many of the thoughtless young men around him, and had he made any effort at all to control his brutal disposition he might have won many fast friends, even among those most bitterly averse to him in' po litical antecedents. But, save in very brief intervals, he was never satisfied unless his hand was against every man, and by the time he had graduated in the law department ot the university, in 1868, he was regarded by the whole in stitution as something scarcely less dan gerous than a rabid wild beast, one who was a fellow-student with him there, and now gives him the above characterization in a communication on the subject to the Russellvllle (Ky.) Herald, adds the following specific illus tration of his lawless proclivities. 'Fitzpatrick," says this writer, "was a member of the Cecropian Debating So ciety. He, of course, tried to rule that dignified and intellectual body, and his overbearing disposition soon drove him, either by public expulsion or a forced resignation, to leave the society. He severed his connection with the body and became its bitter foe.. One evening during an interesting discussion 'Fitz strode in and took a conspicuous seat, becoming the 'observed of all observers, for we all at once saw that a terrible storm was brewing. Some imprudent youth impulsively called on 'Fltz for a speech, and he yielded to the demand thus made In one of the most remarka ble oratorical productions ' of modern times. He took a position in the rear of the large hall, immediately in front of a huge pillar reaching from floor to cell ing, aud delivered himself of all the bitterness, spleen, and abuse that had been growing and flooding bis brnlsed spirit since his exit as a member." His whole speech was a diatribe of wither- ing denunciation against the society as a body, some Individual members, and more particularly the urbane iTesident. He lashed the latter until torpearance really became a crime, and then the pre siding officer declared the house ad journed, and made a violent rush for our hero, with his mace as his only weapon. The whole excited society rushed towards their assailant, but he was equal to the emergency, and being heavily armed, sueceeded in leaving the house unscathed. A challenge tallowed, Fitzpatrick sending the" cartel t tne President, which was declined, for rea sons other than cowardice of the chal lenged, for he was a man of courage. Failing in this, ltzpatricK procured two pistols and two bowie knives, and proceeded to the room of Mr. C, the President, waited in, lonno Mr. c ana two other gentlemen in the room, quiet- walked up to a table . and laid his armament on it, took his stand by the fire-place, and commaudingly said : 31r. C, I am here to have a settlement with you; there are two pistols and two bo wie knives; take any one, taKe any two, take any three of them, or take the whole ot the bunch, and let's get to work.' The prompt aud determined i i- terference of several friends alone ar- ested a bloody murder." Instead of re turning to his home after graduation this problematic character betook him self from the university to Arkansas, some three years ago, as a . carpet-bag ging free-lance, and in the latter untor tunate and disordered State was at once made Circuit Judge by those who, like himself, sought to gain power and profit by. the misfortunes of a disorganized commonwealth. . Equally alert ior in genious perversion of every just principle of law aud any opportunity to act the violent outlaw, the tormer stu dent of Lexington soon bore a leading part In the legal abuses and frcebooting outrages which have made Mississippi County, Arkansas, a fear and pity to the whole English-speaking words, and his recent notoriety in tins relation makes the present sketcli of his general history of interest to the common reader. OCEANS OF LOVE . The inexhaustible romance of emigra tion, of which In modern days our coun try is almost always the objective point, has its latest record Illustration in a qui et little story recently made public through the circumstances of its gratify ing conclusion. Several years ago, In one of the midland counties of England, the son ot a poor clergyman became en amored ot a voting lady named Moss, who lived in Loudon, but was at that time passing the summer with her aunt, one of the minister's parishioners. Miss Moss was most graciously disposed tow ards her rural adorer, aud as he was a gentleman hy Dirth and a welcome guest in the most respectable country-houses the society of the village recognized no incompatibility in the affair. Upon her return to Lioudon, however, the young lady, whose father was a wealthy mer chant, received so little sympathy from her lamily in the affair oi the heart, which she had to disclose to them, that she telt impelled to write rather discon solately to iter lover on the subject: and when he, upon hastening to the metrop olis to present himself, was received with repellent coldness by the pir.-eute, the prospect for the lovers seemed un promising enough. Not to be thus dis missed, though, the clergyman's son ob tained a private interview with the re luctant merchant and stoutly asked why ho was not eligiule for the alliance he desired. The blunt answer was that his worldly circumstances were not suita ble. He was poor aud likely to remain so, and should seek a wile adapted to his means. Deeming the coucludlii; piece of advice gratuitous, the love took leave of the father with no great cordiality; but, upon bidding adieu to his lady-love, asked her very earnestly if she would promise to wait for him un til he should have gained for himself the means and position necessary to change the paternal decision ? The answer was an affirmative as earnest, and, without further explanation, the rejected suitor said a hurried good-bye. Miss Moss heard no more of him until nearly three months thereafter, when a letter bear ing an American postmark amazed her with the information that he had crossed the Atlantic to seek the appointed for tune, and had high hopes of soliciting the fulfillment of her promise in about two years. , A half-brother of his father was a merchant in Knoxville, Tenn., and had given him countenance and generous assistance by which he was sanguine that he could not fail to specu late successfully in cotton, sugar, and other Southern products. Only let the dear girl remain faithful to him aud in two years her father - should see him in London again with plenty of money in his pockets. The dear girl answered appropriately, with a faith in the future as unworldly as his own, and from thenceforth their letters passed each other on the ocean by every steamer. The story of American fortune-making by immigrant lovers has not much vari ety. Occasionally the dream is at last partly realized, but as a general thing deferred hope is the burden of the song. The young Englishman in Tennessee was always just about to do better, but the time of actual golden consumation never chanced to come. Two years and three years and four rolled on, and still he remained on this side the sea aud wrote hopeful letters. During this time his father, the clergyman, died, leaving an estate so meagre to- widow and daughter that the'exile could not think of going back to his old home as poor as when he left it. But the father of Miss Moss departed this life also, and about three months ago the true-hearted heir ess wrote to her Anally desponding lov er that as he could not go to her, she had decided to come to him. Accordingly, adds a writer in the Nashville Uniom, concluding the story, the spirited vouug lady, disregarding the still urgent ob jections of her kindred, and leaving a Lnodon home of luxury and refinement, has. crossed the Atlantic alone,, and on Sunday last arrived at the hotel in Knoxville where her yet impecunious lover was to, and of course did, meet her. Doubtless they were married on the same day, and it may be added, pro oably, that their wedding journey will be back to the. old country. A serious temporary sacrifice was involved, of course, in the fair voyager's bold trip to this country on such an errand ; but, as already noted, she is now an heiress; her array of traveling trunks is spoken of as something wonderful; and the re united lovers may return to their native land, as husband and wife, in the glow of a romance to which riches will give all necessary gentility. RUSSIA IN THE EAST. The Eastern policy of Russia is evi dently two-fold in purpose, commercial and military. She aims to restore the old system of communication between Turkistan and Cabool and Europe, and thus to forestall her rivals in controlling the commerce between the continents; and she aims to found her oriental power upon a broader and surer foundation. That she covets India with its vast wealth and its splendid maratime ad vantages, is much feared by the English, and seemsto be a justifiable inference from her movements. Russia works her way patiently, slowly and steadily. While Europe is deafened with the din of great wars, the hubbub of revolu tions, and the violent hammerings at constitutions, she is intent upon objects destined in 'the end to create as much noise, though events nearer home have just now drawn the attention of Euro peans from them. Her progress east ward has been constant, and no circum stances are permitted to suspend it. Al ready she is engaged in controversies with Khiva which are not unlikely to result in a war whose issue cannot be doubtful. From-Khiva to Bokhara, from Bokhara to Samerkand, from Samer kand to the Punjaub, are progresses, by no means impossible to be accomplished by hardy Cossacks aud Muscovite en ergy; and the borders of the Punjaub are the confines ot .British India. In order to secure the commerce of the Orient, Russia must perform two great achievements. She must acquire pos session of Constantinople, and thence command the Suez Canal : and she must establish a direct route and military bulwark from the Caspiau coast of Per sia and Turkistan to the Black Sea. The former project she lias apparently post poned until a favorable opportunity arises, when European rivalries shall have ceased to uphold and jealously guard the Graud.Turk. The instability ot the Sultan's rule has just been illus trated anew, by the abrupt dismissal of the able and honest Midhat Jfarba from the yiziership, aud the virtual restora tion ot the corrupt and indolent regime of Mahmoud. , Turkish reformers must despair when such a man as Midhat can not sustain himself in the Sultan's good graces tor a longer period than three months, aud the vacillating policy which Turkey has lor some time betrayed in her relations with Russia indicates the inherent and incorrigible weakness of the Government. - But while the Czar awaits with shrewd Russian patience the moment when he can safely and surely strike tor Constan tinople, his statesmen are far from idle, The other half military, half commer cial project, of improving communica tion with the East, is being vigorously pushed. Already the great trans-Cau- castau railway, the announced intention to construct which caused so much alarm and excitement in England, and the ac complishment of which will fret her with a reasonable anxiety, has been completed from Poti, on the coast of the Euxine; along the slopes ot the Caucas us to Tinis, the capital ot the extreme Southern Russian province of Georgia; and ere long the lino will have found a terminus at Bakee, on the west coast of the Caspian. This railway skirts at once the northeastern border ot Turkey i Asia and the northwestern corner of Persia; when finished It will afford an easy and direct route from Odessa, Se- bostopol and the mouth of the Don, to the fertile provinces of Turkistan and Cabool. It is difficult; to over-estimate tlie enormous commercial and military power which this will throw into the hands ot the Czar. The commerce of Asiatic countries nortli of llindoostati must be diverted through Russian chan nels; the Russians will have a formida ble military basis east of the Caspian, if at anytime they deem ft politic to in vade India. The persistency with which she Is thus working her way eastward, her great wealth and growing prosper ity, her splendid military organization, her boundless resources ot almost every kind, render it probable that her do minion will in no very long time extend over the territory which lies between the Mediterranean, the Caspian, and the Persian Gulf; nay, it is not even im probable that, during the lifetime of men now past the'.r majority, the Rus sian Empire may find its southern boundary on the shores of the Arabian sea, and its territory lying besides Brit ish India from the mouth of the Indus to the range of the Hindoo Koosh. UROWINfS OLD. When we remember the rose tiut of romance with which the freshness and vividness of every new impression tinged our early ' days, and now, at middle age, find that existence is no longer dream but a reality, and that there Is so little to look l or ward to, is it any won der that we cast a lingering look be hind? The character of our life is fixed, and our occupations and associations promise to be in the future very much what they now are. Do we notice how much more rapidly each ' succeeding year seems to pass away! Cannot we remember how, in our childhood, the term of a year appeared interminable, and we thought we could comnress Into that great space almost any amount of wont ana piayr .But as we get older, how is it that, with all our industry, times seems too short for the work we take in hand ? We become so engrossed that holy-days and holidays are alike in vaded ; and after all is done, how much is left unfinished, how many schemes remain untried ! - "It is the solemn thought connected with middle life," says the late eloquent F. W. Robertson, "that life's last business is begun in earnest; and it is then, midway between the cradle and the grave, that a man be gins to marvel that he let the days of youth go by so half enjoyed. It is the pensive autumn feeling, it is the sensa tion of half sadness that we experience when the longest day of the year is past, and every day that follows is shorter, and the light fainter, and the feebler shadows tell that nature is hastening with gigantic footsteps to her winter giave. So does a man look back upon his youth. When the first gray hairs become visible, when the unwelcome .truth fastens itself upon the mind that a man is no longer going up lull, but down, and that the sun is always west ering, he looks hack on things behind. when we were children .we thought as children. But now there lies before us manhood, with its earnest work, and then old age, and then the grave, and then homo. There is a second youth ior man better and holier than his first, if he will look on and not back. THE CHEERFUL. G1VEK. That Heaven loves a cheerful giver is saying as old as the human race ; and tint a gift is valued bjfrthe giver's heart and not by its amount Is beautifully illus trated by the parable of the poor wom an's mite. There is an excellent story of a rich but very stingy old Scotchman who once accidentally laid a guiDea in place of a penny in the contribution box as it was passed round the church. ' He t tempted to take it back, but was pre vented by the vigilant deacon, who re fused to give up anything that was "on the Lord's plate." "Weel, weel," he grunted, as he leaned back in his pew, I'll get credit tor it in iieaven." "JNae, Jamie," said his friend the deacon, "ye'll no get credit in heaven toronything but the pennie ye thought to gie." At this season ot tne year, when the nation is called upon to offer thanks to Providence for peace, for abundant har vests, for general prosperity in com merce and all the various branches of industry, the poor should be remem bered with special tenderness aud liber ality. We are apt to be spasmodic in our charities. A great disaster, like the fires which desolated Portland, Chicago, and Boston, an earthquake -which lays waste a populous city and nils a land with terror, rouses ns to extraordinary efforts on behalf of the sufferers. This Is right, certainly ; but we are very apt to forget that we have the poor with us always, and that hundreds and thou sands right anout onr own uoors are constantly suffering for want. The blessed summer-time attorns them a res pite from the sharper pangs of poverty ; but winter brings them all hunger and cold, sickness and death. Let those to whom Providence nas given wealth, whose homes are full of comfort aud plenty, think of the poor who have no Thanksgiving." nappy the man who i not only thankful for himself, but that he has the means of making others happy! TBE DEEPEST WELL IN THE WOBLD. . At about twenty miles from Berlin is situated the village of Tperenberg, noted for the deepest well that has ever been sunk. Owing to the presence of gypsum in the locality, which is a mod erate distance from the capitol, it occur red to the government authorities lu charge of the mines to obtain a supply of rock salt. With this end in view the sinking of a shaft or well sixteeu feet in diameter was commenced some five years ago, and at a depth of 280 feet the salt was reached . The boring was con tinued to a further depth of 960 feet, the diameter of this bore being reduced to about 13 inches. The operations were prosecuted by the aid of steam, until a depth of 4,164 feet was obtained. At this point the boring was discortinued, the borer or bit being still in the salt depos it, which thus exhibits the enormous thinkness ot 4,207 feet. The boring would have been continued in order to discover what description of deposit lay under tiie salt, but lor the mechanical difficulties connected with the further prosecution of the operations. During the progress of the interesting work, re peated aud careful observations were made in the temperature at various depths. The results confirm very close ly those which have already been ar- ived at under similar circumstances. A UOl'SEOF OUR OW.. Next to bciug married to the right person, there is nothing so important in one's life as to live under his own roof. There is something more than a poetical charm in the expression of the wife. "We have our cosv house; it is thrice dear to us because it is our own. We have bought it with the savings of our earn ings. Many were the soua lountaius, the confectionary saloons, and the ne cessities of the market we had to pass ; many a time my noble husband denied himseir ot comtorts, wore his old clothes, and even patched up boots, and I, O me ) made my old bonnet do, did the plainest cooking; saving was the ordor of the hour, aud to a "home ot our own" was our united aim. Now we have it. There is no landlord troubling us with raising the rent, and exacting this and that. There is no fear .harbored in our bosom that in sickness or old age, we will be thrown out of house and home. What a lesson do the above works teach, and how well It would be if hun dreds of families would heed them, and instead of living in rented houses, which take a large proportion of their capital to furnish, and the rest to eat ac cordingly, would bravely curtail ex pen s- and concentrate their enorts on hav ing "a home of their own." Better a cottage of your own than a rented palace. A LESSON FOR WOULD-BE CRITICS. A vkofkssor's wife, who occupied her self sometimes witli assisting her hus band in making casts of geology and nat ural history, also tor her own pleasure made sometimes flowers aud fruit of wax and other materials, aud notwith standing she had become quite a suc cessful expert In this line, she found that most always her etlorts were critic ised by her friends. Once at a tea par ty she passed a large apple around, aud stated her confidence that this time she had been quite successful in her imita tions of nature's product; but her f.-iends were as usual not of her opinion : one criticised the shape, saying that it would be more natural if it was not so globular ; another criticised the colors, and said that it was better than other imitations, but she did not quite hit that indescri bable peculiarity which distinguished the natural annle from mere imltatious; almost every one had some fault to find. After the apple passed around and came In her hands again, she ate It, without saying anything. Her friends had been criticising a real apple, hut never afterwards criticised her imitations of fruit again. MELANGE, Two Indian mothers have been ar- rested In Oakland, Cal. for pappoose- icicle. j An Eastern editor wants to known if wire-drawers have anything to do with hoop-skirts. , Ashtabula girls won't go out riding now, because the trees along the roads are so naked. The Vermont legislature declined to " abolish the death penalty, regarding it as a capital thing. ' . Cincinnati wants the Vatican removed to within its municipality, with Arch bishop mrcell for i"onun. .. Mr. . B. Washbtirne needs nothing but a vote of the Illinois Legislature to induce him to go to the next Congress. A French gentleman here says, in witty English, that his countrymen In Paris, are living in hopes of a glorious insurrection. i ; Afrs. John Baggs.' of Omaha, has left Mr. John Baggs, taking the money bags, and leaving John Baggs to hold the lit tle empty Baggs. ' They've stopped giving the exact ages of the old women out West, and merely mention that Mrs. So-and-so has a sou past ninety -three years old. Sir Louis Fleetwood, a real British baronet, is serving out a sentence of three weeks' imprisonment for refusing to pay his fare on a railway. . A Saugerties, N. Y., servent girl, thir teen years of age, wanted to .quiet an infant, thirty days old ana gave it an overdose of laudanum. She succeeded. Mrs. O'Leary, of Chicago-fire notorie ty, now wonders "if thim Bosting spal peens will be after schweartng that it was her poor baste of a cow that burned their city." , : , ., The remarkable development of the chest in Scandinavians is attributed by some ethnologists to tbeThor-ax which plays such a prominent part in their mythology.- - : . . The house formerly occupied by M. Batacazv-in Washington is open for boarders of property. ' Its late tenant went considerably beyond the borders of propriety. -" Miss Jennie Reese, a young lady of respectable oarentasre in Columbus. O.. having been detected (not rem in re but Reese in re) at forgery, is to serve three years In prison. .' Our Cincinnati correspondent, seeing the enormous profit derived from capital invested in the whisky business, ob serves that the distillery is the surest way to usc-your-rye. It has just been discovered that the Canadian Custom-house at Pembina is situated on United States soil, so that English officials have been unconscious ly "going" our duties, n - It is a fact that even blue' jays have been added to the list of "game" on the poulterers's stalls; but purchasers are chary of buying them lest, they too, might be made game or. Colonel Krzyzanowski has been named no, not named, fo no ordinary catarrh could . enable mortal larynx to name him appointed Special agent of the Treasury Department at Jfew Orleans. A haberdasher announces "an im mense consignment of superior men's gloves.'-' : The difficulty about this spec ulation will be to ii nd superior men enough to bny up such a quantity . of gloves.;. . - St.Louis had him this time : Jarae,IIot chin ; occupation, physician ; age, one hundred and forty;, cause of death, small-pox. Oldest Freemason ; no spec tacles; constant voter from his youth upwards. . . -. , . -, . ' George Washington, setat, 13, has been committed to a reformatory institution for juvenile delinquents in Iowa, and vows that hereafter he'll tell any num ber of lies rather than "own up" his misdemeanors. . A Californian Teuton having accom plished the feat of drinking forty-eight glasses of larger in five hours, an emu lous compatriot is on his way from St. Louis with the resolve to sw'lll fifty or bust iu the endeavor. : The eternal fitness of things is entire ly upset by the discovery of a mineral spring in the city of Milwaukee, where to offer any inducement to anybody to drink anything but lager beer is not only useless but insulting- The Grand Duke Alexis has presented to the Naval Academy at Annapolis a magnificent compass, cased in five boxes for safety in transportation. , It will be boxed in a great many other cases by the students after its arrival. In Downieville, Cal., in 1853, a woman was attacked with insanity and shot a minor. The populate immediately be came insane and hung her by the neck to a bridge. It is needless to say that Mrs. Fair does not propose to settle in Downieville. In spite of all the talk about the im provement of Southern morals through the abolition of slavery we are inTormed shat the colored women and picaninnles of Tennessee are cultivating "white popples" to an extent never before thought of. Among seasonable delicacies rails on toast occasionally appear on the bills of fare. The other day an epicure while de molishing one of them got a portion of rail stuck in his throat, but no harm came of It, though it was evidently a misplaced switch. Miss Anthony is said to have aban doned the classics altogether, disgusted with the invidious sexual distinction implied in the oft-quoted "men conacia recti, until Mrs. Stanton pointed out to her that, after all, the mens part of the phrase was femiuiue. . ' Newton, a peaceable town of recent date in Kansas, has thus far burled thirty-two persons in its cemetery, of whom one is actually supposed to have died a natural death. At least, there was no necessarily mortal wound about the body and no one knew how to test it for poison. The smallest piece of political persecu tion yet recorded is the removal of Mr. Fourier from the important position of postmaster of Dexter, Ind., with a sal ary of $12 per annum, on account of his voting the Democratic ticket.Fortunate ly Mr. Fourier Is not entirely depend ent on this salary for his livelihood. The possibility of a colored man being appointed Attorney-General has caused some of the negro waiters in saloons here to assume great dignity of manner. They are beginning to apply law terms to dishes already, culling a porK cnop a "noble prosequi," for lustance, and a . plate of buckwheat cakes a "fieri facias." Mrs. ''irglnia Minor, who wants $10, 000 damages from the official who re fused to register her name on the list of legal voters, must unquestionably be nonsuited; for, however ambiguous the word "citizen" may bo under the fif teeuth amendment, the law is very ex plicit in withholding the right of suf frage from minors. Delirium tremens is said to be curable bv means of a milk diet. A patient in one of the city hospitals, suffering from that malady, had sense enongh about him to refuse milk, on the score that it is half water, a fluid that never agreed with him. "If you will force me to live on a diet of milk," said he, with much pathos, "1 shall be the diet of worms." In reply to inquiries it has been as certained from street organ-grluders that in some cases monkeys have been attacked by the epizootic malady. De rangement of thu organs of smell and heariug, and loss of teeth, are the dis tinguishing features of the disease among these poor relations of mankind. This is natural, since, when the organs are effected, it is evident that the grin ders must be affected too.