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All letters on business must be addressed to Jap. P. Diekf.tt Jt Co., Publishrra, "i com:, the herald of a noisy would, the news of all nations lumbering at my back." VOL. 1. HABTEORD, OHIO COUNTY, KY SEPTEMBER 15, 1875. NO. 37 From the Padneah Herald. PI.VKM DACK.GIRLS-riX T.M BACK. Soma peopla will growl about fashion, And prate of its follies, bnt then It is law; forShakfpea.ro hath said, it "Wears oat more apparel than men." "Oat of fashion" the world will ignore you, And call yoa a dowdy, a tack; Then a hint to tie wise is sufficient Pin 'em back, girls pin 'em back. In Rome one ofcourse would be Roman; Fools follow the fashion, "they say," Bat 'tis only the fools, lovely woman, Who heed such croakers as they ! Soma iHt-flinjer$ ate too much scandal, Andof "plump, round limbs" talk too slack, Bat the tighter, the neater and sweeter. So pin 'em back, girls pin 'em back. Some girls, like Susan B.Anthony, Strong-minded, may stickle for rights, And dressed oat in strong Bloomer costume Hare made themselves hideous frights; Bnt these are not rales they're exceptions, And ought to be burned at tbo rack; Who cares if you can't climb a ladder; Pin 'em back, girls pin 'em hick. long trails and low necks had their foaton, Skirts gathered in frills and gored down; The train-lifter, bustle and sweeper. Hoops large and small both wore the crown, Have your own sweet way, pretty Hisses, Let impertinence stare In a pack; The world moves at your smiles and your kisses Bo just as yoa please pin 'em hack. Old maids may scold at your caprice, And talk or the good "Long Ago," Tbey had as many fancies as yoa hire, The world's all illusion and show, Then cut the skirts down tighter, closer, Who cares for the world's idle click, Let boys cry anatomy, muscle, Keep np hearts, girls, bo sure pin 'em back! 'To-day" is an age of progression. Who cares for gossip such staff! No odds if you can't step two iuches; Sit sideways, 'tis easy enough; And 'twill show off your form and your figure. Bat at this yoa all have a knack; Ilave year own pretty, sweet ways and notions, Fin 'em back, girls, by Jove, pin 'cm back ! THE BLACK TULIP. BY ALEXANDRE DUX AS, Author oftlie "t'onntor Montr CrlMo,' TJicTIirer GnanlsDirn," " rncuiy Yc.r. Artcr,IlrajreIoniic, the Son or Atho-i,' "Louise la ValUere," -The Iron JlaiU," Etc, Etc. CHAPTER IV. rOPL'LAB, JUSTICE. The young man, with his hat still eloQclicd over his eyes, etill leaning on the arm of the officer, and still wiping from time to time his brow with his handkerchief, was watching in a corner of the. Buitenhof, in the shade of the overhanging weather-board of a closed ehop, the doing of the infuriated mob, a spectacle which seemed to draw near its catastrophe. "Indeed," said he to the officer, "in deed, I think you were right, Van Dek en, the order which the deputies have feigned, is truly the death-warrant of Mas ter Cornelius. Do you hear these people? They certainly bear a sad grudge to the two De Wittes." "In truth' replied the officer, "I nev er heard such shouts." "They seemed to have found out the cell of the man. Look, look, is not that the window of the cell where Cornelius was locked up?" A man had seized with both hands, and was shaking the iron bars of the window, in the room uhich Cornelius bad left only ten minutes before. "Halloa, halloa," the man called out, "he is gone." "How is that? gone?'' asked those ol the mob, who had not been able to get into the prison, crowded as it was with the masses of intruders. "Gone, gone,' repeated the man in a rage, "the bird has flown." "What does this man say?" asked His Highness, growing quite pale. "Ohl Monseigneur, he says a thin which would be very fortunate if it should turn out true!" "Certainly, it would be fortunate if it were true," said the young man, "unfor tunately it cannot be true." "However, look " said the officer. And indeed, some more faces, furious and contorted with rage, showed them selves at the windows, crying, "Escaped, gone, they have helped them offi" And the people in the street repeated with fearful imprecations,. "Escaped' gone! Let is run after them, and pursue them!" "Monseigneur, it seems that Mynheer Cornelias has really escaped," said the officer. "Yes, from prison perhaps, but not from the town; you will see Van Deken, that the poor fellow will find the gate closed against him, which he hoped to find open." "Has an order been given to dose the town-gates, ilonsegneur?" "No, at least I do not think so; who could have gtven such an order?" "Indeed, but what makes your High- neha suppose ? mere are laianiics, .Monseigneur replied, in an offhand manner; "and the greatest men have sometimes fallen vie time to such fatalities." At these words t'ic officer ftlt hi Hood run cold, and some how or other he was convinced that the prisoner was lost. At this moment the roar of the multi tude broke forth like thunder, for it was now quite certain that Cornelius De Witte was no longer in the prison. Cornelius and John, after driving along the pond, had taken the large street which leads to the Tol-Hck, giving'di rections to the coachman to slacken his pace, in order not to excite any suspi cion. But when, on having proceeded halt way down the street, the man felt that be had left the prison and death behind, and before him there was life and liber ty, he neglected every precaution, and set his horse off at a gallop. All at once he stopped, "What is the matter?" asked John, potting his head out of the coach-win dow. "Oh! my masters," cried the coach man, "it is Terror choked the voice of the honest fellow. 'Well, say what you have to say!" urged the Grand Pensionary. "The gate is closed, that's what it is." "How is this? It is not usual to close the gate by day.'' "Just look!" John De Witlc leaned out of the win dow, and indeed saw that the man was right. "Never mind, but drive on,'' said John; I have with me the order for the com mutation of the punishment, the gate keeper will let us through."' The carriage moved along, but it was evident that the driver was no longer urging his horses with the same degree of confidence. . Moreover, as John De Witle put his head out of the carriage-window, he was seen and recognized by a brewer, who, being behind his companions, was just shutting his door in all haste to join them at the Buitenhof. He uttered a cry of surprise, and ran after two other men be fore him, whom he overtook about a hundred yards farther on, and told them what he had seen. The three men then stopped, looking after the carriage, being. however, not yet quite sure as to whom it contained. The carriage, in the meanwhile, ar rived at the Tol-Uek. "Open!" cried the coachman. Open!" echoed the gatekeeper, from the threshold of his lodge; "it's all very well to say, open, but then what am 1 to do it with?" "With the key, to be sure!" said the coachman. "With the key! Oh, yes! but if you have not got it?" "How is that? Have not you got the kev7"' asked the coachman. "No, I havn't." "What has become of it?'' "Well, they have taken it from me." "Who?" "Some one, I dare say, who had a mind that no one should leave the town." "My good man," said the Grand Pen sionary, putting out his head from the window, and risking all for gaining all; "my good man, it is for me, John De Witte, and for my brother Cornelius. whom I am taking away into exile.". "Oh! Mynheer De Witle, I am in deed very much grieved," said the gate keeper, rushing towards the carriage; "but upon my 6acred word, the key has been taken from me." "When?" "This morning." "By whom?" "By a pale and thin young man, of about twenty-two.'' "And wherefore did you give it up to him?" 'Because he showed me an order, signed and sealed." "By whom?" "By the gentlemen of the Town-hall." "Well, then," said Cornelius, calmly, "our doom seems to be fixed." "Do you know whether the same pre- cautionhas been taken at the other gates?" "I do not." "Now, then," said John the coach man, "God commands man to do all in his power to preserve his life; go, and drive to another gate." And whilst the servant was turning round the vehicle, the Grand Fensionary said to the gatekeeper, "Take our thanks for your good in tentions; the will must count for the deed; you had the will to save ua, and, in the eyes of the Lord, it is as if you had succeeded in doing so." "Alas!" said the gatekeeper, "do you see down there "Drive at agallop through that group," John called out to the coachman, "and take the street on the left, it is our only chance." The group which John alluded to had, for its nucleus, those three men we left looking after the carriage, and who, in the meanwhile, had been joined by seven or eight others. These nev-comcrs evidently meant mischief in regard to the carriage. When they saw the horses galloping down upon them, they placed themselves acrcsf the street, brandishing cudgels in their iinmK nt:J cn";r.g out, "Stop! stop!" The coachman, on his side lashed his horses into increased speed, until the coach and the men encountered. The brothers De Witte, inclosed within the body of the carriage, were not able to sec anything; but they felt a severe shock, occasioned by the rearing of the horses. The whole vehicle for a moment shook and stopped; but immediately af ter, passing over something round and elastic, which seemed to be the body of a prostrate man, set olf again amidst a vol ley of the fiercest oaths. "Alae!" said Cornelius, "I am afraid we have hurt some one. ' "Gallop! gallop!" called John. But, notwithstanding tills order, the coachman suddenly came to a stop. "Now then, what is the matter again?" asked John. "Look there 1" said the coachman. John looked. The whole mass of the populace from the Buitenhof appeared at the extremity of the street along which the carriage was to proceed, and its stream moved roaring and rapid, as if lashed on by a hurricane. "Stop and get off," said John to the coachman; "it is useless to go any fur ther: we are lost!" "Here they are! here they arc!" five hundred voices were crying at the same time. "Yes, there they are, the traitors, the murderers, the assassins!" answered th c men who were running after the carriage, to the people who were coming to meet it. The former carried in their arms the bruised body of one of their companions, who, trying to seize the reins of the horses, had been trodJcii down by them. This was the object over which the two brothers had felt their carriage pass. The coachman stopped, but, however strongly his master urged him, he re fused to get off and save himself. In an instant, the carriage was hem med in between those who followed and those who met it. It rose above the mass of moving heads like a floating island. But in another instant it came to a dead stop. A blacksmith had, witli his hammer, struck down one of the horses, which fell in the traces. At this moment, the shutter of a win dow opened, and disclosed the sallow face anl the dark eyes of the young man, who with intense interest watched the ecene which was preparing. Behind him appeared the head of the officer, almost as pale as himself. "Good heavens, Monseigneur, what is going on here?"' whispered the officer. "Something very terrible, to a certain ty," replied the other. Don't you see, Monseigneur, they arc dragging the Grand Pensionary from the carriage, they 6trike him, they tear him to pieces. "Indeed, these people must certainly be prompted by a most violent indigna tion," said the young man, with the same impassible tone which he had pre served all along. "And here is Cornelius, whom they likewise drag out of the carriage Cor nelius, who is already quite broken and mangled by the torture. Only look, look !" "Indeed, it is Cornelius, and no mis take." The officer uttered a feeble cry, and turned his head away; The brother of the Grand Pensionary, before having set foot on the ground, whilst etill on the bottom step of the carriage, was 6truck down with an iron bar which broke his skull. He rose once more, but immedi ately fell again. Some fellows then seized him by the feet, and dragged him into the crowd, in to the middle of which one might have followed his bloody track, and he was Boon closed in among the savage yells of malignant exultation. The young man a thing which would have been thought impossible grew even paler than before, and his eyes were for a moment veiled behind the lids. The officer saw this sign of compas sion, and, wishing to avail himself of the softened tone of his feelings, continued; "Come, come, Monseigneur, for here they are also going to murder the Grand Pensionary." Bnt the young man had already opened his eyes again. "To be sure," he said. "These peo ple are really implacable. It docs no one good to ofTend them." 'Monseigneur,'' said the officer, "may not one save this poor man, who has been your Highness's instructor? If there be any means name it, and if I should perish in the attempt," William of Orange for he it was knit his brows in a very forbidding man ner, restrained the glance of gloomy mal ice which glistened in the half-closed eye, and answered, "Captain Van Deken, I request you to look after my troop?, that they may be armed for any emergency." "But I am to leave your Highness here, alone, in the presence of all these murderers?" "Go, and don't you trouble yourself about me more than I do about myself," the Prince gruffly replied. The officer started on" with a speed which was much less owing to his sense i of mi'itiary obedience, than to his pleas ure at being relicvcdfrom "the necessity of witnessing the shocking spectacle of the murder of the other brother. He had scarcely left the room, when John who with an almost superhuman effort had reached the stone steps of a house, nearly opposite that where his former pupil concealed himself began to stagger under the blows which were inflicted on him from all sides, calling out, "My brother where is my brother?" One of the ruffians knocked off his hat with a blow of his clenched fist. Another showed to him his bloody hands; for this fellow ha!d ripped open Cornelius and disembowelled him, and was now hastening to the-Jpot in order not to lose the opportunity of serving the Grand Pensionary in the eame manner, whilst they were dragging the dead body of Cornelius to the gibbet. John uttered a cry of agony and grief, and put ouc of his hands before his eyes. "Oh ! you close your eyes, do you?" said one of the soldiers of the burgher guard; "well, I shall open them for you.' And saying this, he stabbed him with his pike in the face, and the blood spurt ed forth. "My brother!" cried John De Witte, trying to ecc, through the stream of blood which blinded him, what had become of Cornelius; "my brother, my brother!" "Go and run after him!" bellowed an other murderer, putting his musket to his temple and pulling the trigger. But the gun did not go oil. The fellow then turned his musket round, and, taking it by the barrel with both hands, struck John De Witte down with the butt-tend. John staggered and fell down at his feet, but raising himself, with a last effort, he once more called out, "My brother!" with a voice so full of anguish, that the young man opposite closed the shutter. There remained little more to sec; a third murderer fired a pistol with the muzzle to his face; and this time the shot took e fleet, blowing out his brains. John De Witte fell, to rise no more. On this, every one of the miscreants, emboldened by his fall, wanted to fire his gun at him, or stiike him with blows of the sledge-hammer, or stab him with a knife or sword; every one wanted to draw a drop of blood from tho fallen hero, and tear off a Ehred from his gar ments. And after having mangled, and torn, and completely stripped the two brothers, the mob dragged their naked and bloody bodies to an extemporised gibbet, where atneteur executioners hung them up by the feet. Then came the most datardly scoun drels of all, who, not having dared to strike the living llesh, cut the dead in pieces, and then wcut about in the town selling small slices of the bodies of John and Cornelius at ten sous a piece. We cannot take upon ourselves to say whether, through the almost impercepti ble chink of the shutter, the young man witnessed the conclusion of this shock ing scene; but at the very moment when they were hanging the two martyrs on the gibbet, he passed through the terrible mob; which was too much absorbed in the task, so gratifying to its taste, to take any notice of him; and thus he reached unobserved thcTol-IIek, which was still closed. "Ah ! sir," said the gatekeeper, "'do you bring me the key?" "Yes, my man, here it is." "It is most unfortunate that you did not bring me that key only otie quarter ofau hour sooner," said the gatekeeper, with a sigh. '!And why that?" asked the other. "Because I might have opened the gate to Mynheers De Witte; xvhercas. finding the gate locked, they were obligated to retrace their steps." "Gate! gate!" cried a voice which seemed to be that of a man in a hurry. The Priuce, turning round, observed Captain Van Deken. "Is that you, Captain?" he said. "You are not yet out of the Hague? This is executing my orders very slowly." "Monseigneur," replied the Captain, "this U the third gate at which I have prcseated myself; the two others were closed." "Well, this good man will open this one for you: do it, my friend." The last words were addressed to the gatekeeper, who stood quite thunder struck on hearing Captain Van Deken addressing by the title of Monseigneur this pale young man, to whom he him self had spoken in such a familiar way. As it were, to make up for his fault, he hastened to open the gate, which swung creaking on its hinges. "Will Monteigncur avail himself of my horse?" asked the Captain. "I thank you, Captain, I shall use my own steed, which is waiting for me close at hand." And, taking from his pocket a golden whistle, such as were generally used at that time for summoning the servants, he sounded it with a shrill and prolonged call, on which an equcrrv on horseback sieedily made his appearance, leading another horre by the bridle. William, without tou.-hing the si'.n iji, vaulted into the saddle of the led horse, and, setting, his spurs into its flanks, started off for the Leyden road. Hav ing reached it, he turned round and beckoned to the Captain, who was far behind to ride by his side. "Do you know," he then said, without stopping, "that those rascals have killed John De Witte as well as his brother?" "Alas I Monseigneur," the Captain answered sadlv, "I should like it much better if these two difficulties were still in'your Highnesses's way of becoming de facto Stadtholder of Holland." "Certainly, it would have been better," said William, "if what did happen had not happened. Butitcannot be helped now, and vrc havo had nothing to do with it. Let us push on, Captain, that we may arrive at Alphen before the message which the State3Gcneral are sure to send to me to the camp." E The Captain bowed, allowed the Prince to ride ahead, and, for the remainder of the journey, kept at the same respect ful distance as he had done before his Highness called him to his side. "How I should wish," William of Orange malignantly muttered to him self, with a dark frown and setting the spurs to his horse, "to see the figure which Louis will cut when he is apprised of the manner in which his dear friends De Witte have been served 1" Continued next week. LETTER FROM LONDON. Correspondence of tho Hartford Herald. No. 2, Vcrxox Place, Bloomsbi'-I i:v Square, Londo.v, August 15. J Thcday following that on which I wrote you from the steamer Victoria, we reached Londonderry, at 9 p. m. After lying there long enough to put off some passengers and their luggage, we steamed for Scot land. TnR CI.VDH ASD GLASCOW. We reached the mouth of the Clyde just at daylight. This river is renowned for its beautiful scenery, and also for the larg est and best ship building docks in the world. The passengers were out bright and early to gaze upon the beauties of its banks. Land never looked as pretty to me before. This was the first I had seen since I left New York, except the blue hills of Ireland, in the distance looking like so many clouds. We steamed up the Clyde to Greenock, a distance of forty miles he low Glasgow. Here is located the cus tom house, and it is here that the officers come aboard and turn the baggage "Upside down" in search of tobacco and cigars, and such articles as arc imported from our country. We were detained here about two hours and a half, after which the Captain announced that he could go no farther up on account of the low tide. We were soon transferred to the shore, put aboard a train, nnd reached Glasgow at 12:30 a. m. My cousin and I, in com pany with a Mr. Bevan and lady, of New York City, (for whom wc formed quite an attachment on the way), stopped at the Queen's Hotel, a palatial building, nnd "run" on an aristocratic plan. It is pat ronized by the nobility, consequently the style. I much preferred a little less style and more to eat After dining, wc got into a carriage and look a drive through the city and to West End Park. Glacgow is a magnificent city, clean and nice, and substantially built. Tbelmildings are all of elegant granite not a brick house to be seen. Tlicy look as though they were built to last for centuries. The streets arc paved in the same substantial manner. Glasgow is a city of some 500,000 eouls, and seems to be tinder good regulations. The Scotch horse was something to attract my attention. The idea occurred to me that one of them would be a valuable ad dition to an American menagerie. They are certainly the largest specimens of the equine species I have ever seen. You rarely see more than one hitched to an ordinary wagon or carriage. West-End Fark is the pride of Glasgow. It is ex tensively improved, and the air is loaded down with the odor of llowers nnd musi cal with the chattering of birds. While taking that drive, we saw what we were told was the highest chimney in the world (525 feet). It belonged to a factory of some kind, and actually seemed to tower among the clouds. Wc also saw the larg est livery stable in Great Britain, a stone building, that covered a whole square and contained one thousand horses. OI'F FOB LONDON. We left Glasgow at 0 p. in. for London by rail. In that portion of Scotland from Glasgow to Edinburg there are large quan tities of coal and iron ore, and the numer ous smelting furnaces belching forth such tremendous blazes of fire, lighting up the whole country, impresses one unaccustom ed to Hitch sights strongly with the idea that the world is on fire. RAILWAY DISCOJirOKT. The distance between Glasgow and London is 400 miles, and with the com forts of American Cars the journey would not be a tedious one. Great Britain is an old country, bnt, viewed from an Ameri can standpoint, she is greatly behind the new country in some respects. One of them is in the railrotd travel. Their road beds arc cood and they make good time (-10 to 50 miles an hour), but their cars are divided off into little apartments firs', teeon.l, and third chm. You pay i for your tijUct acorJ g to the clasj yo.t go. You are put into one of these litt'e apartments by what they call the Guard, and the door closed. The Guard (who answers for our conductor) says nothing about yonr tickets. It is his business to see that you do not get out. At the end of your journey, if you do not produce your ticket, you are arrested for defraud ing the company. There is no arrange ment for checking baggage, no transfer companies, or anything of the kind. The countty from Glasgow to London is mag nificent; beautiful farms-and in a high state of cultivation. The farmer? are just now in the midst of their grain and hay harvest, the yield is good. The wheat, especially, looks to be heavy We arrived at London Thursday mornitig, August 12th. London is truly a grtat city, It is with difficulty that I can keep from getting lost two squares from home without a guide. Yesterday, through the kindness of a friend, I was shown a number ofthe great sights of the "lakcest citt is the world 1" To-day wc were granted permission to go through Westminster Palace, through the Houses of Lord and Commons. To attempt a description of these wonld be useless; suffice it to Bay, that the grandeur of the scenery surpassed any thing that had ever been pictured in my imagination, especially in the House of Lords, wherein was the Queen's throne. We went from the Palace to West minster Abbey, where we were soon sur rounded by the tombs of the illustrious dead. Westminster Abbey may not in aptly be called the Pantheon of the glory of Great Britain, for it is its monu ments and remains which render the Ab bey so precious to Englishmen, and the whole civilized world. Here lie nearly all the Kings, Queens and Princes of this country from Edward the Confessor, to George II. At the mention of the very name what a crowd thoughts rush upon the mind. Here kings and sculptors, princes and poets, philosophers and war riors, and the authors of imperishable strains, silently moulder in the dust; en during marble embalms their memory. Here side by side rests the crowned head and the chancellor, the philanthropist and the naval hero. Here the rival statesman arc at peace, and the tongue of the orator is mute. Here the first English Bible issued from the press. As you enter, you take off your hat. All is quiet; there may be a grtat many visitors, but they scarcely speak above a whisper. And during the hour of service, (10 and 3 o'clock), the pealing organ and the swelling choir reverberating through the lofty grey-grown aisles, attunes the mind to solemn thoughts and sobriety of de meanor. I had a special desiic to see the tombs of Shakespeare, Milton, Charles Dickens, and some others, and finally found them in what was called the "poets's corner." Shakespeare's was a full-length statue of the immortal bard, leaning on a pillar, whereon rested a scroll inscribed with lines from the "Tempest." John Milton was a bust on tablet, beneath a lyre encircled by a ser pent holding an apple. I was surprised to see that Charles Dickens had no statue or bust. II is was simply a granite slab on the floor, over which hundreds of peo ple walk every day. On the slab, in large brass letters, was this inscription, "Charles Diclcens, born February 14th, 1812, died June 0th, 1870." The English baye many peculiar char acteristics about which I have not time to speak now. Some of them are very good some not so good. They arc cer tainly a charitable people. There seems to be no end to the charitable institutions of London. They seem to be a religious people also. Notwithstanding there are bar-rooms enough in London, if placed side by side, to reach 75 miles, as yet 1 have not seen a man drunk or heard an oath on the streets. J. B. W. Itimnlii? a Jfpiriapcr. By some unaccountable misapprehen sion of facts, says the Memphis Ava lanche, there is a large class of people in the world who think that it costs little or nothing lo run a newspaper; and if they buy a copy from the newsboy, when too far from the office to come and beg one, they arc regular patrons and entitled to unlimited favors. Men call every day at newspaper offices to get a copy of the paper for nothing, who would never dream of begging a pocket handkerchief from a dry goods store, or a piece of candy from a confectioner, oven upon the plea of old acquaintance, having bought something before. One paper is not much, but a hundred a day amounts to something in the course of time. But this is a small drain compared with the free advertising a newspaper is expected to do. Some men who have paid two dollars at an early period of life for an advertisement worth four or live dollars, appear to think they are stockholders in tho establish incut for eternity. They demand the publication of all marriage and funeral notices, obituaries and family episodes. for the next forty years, gratis Speak of pay and they grow indignant. "Don't I patronize your paper?" "Ye-1; lot you receive the worth of your money for what you pay.-' But," says the patron, "it will not cost you anything to put this in," which i-tjnst as ridiculous iw lo a-k a man to grind your axe on hi grindstone, r.nd graciously tell him it won't cost him a cent. It lakes money lo run a newspa per as well as any other business; no paper will succeed financially that carries a deadhead system. Any mention of the people's aKtirs- that they are anxious to see in print is worth paying for, and when ' printed is generally worth as mnch as any other investment of the same amount. The newspaper business is very exact ing on all connected with it, and the pay is comparatively small, the proprietors risk more money for smaller profits, and the editors an reporters an J printers work harder and cheaper than the same number of men in- any profession requir ing rhe given amccnt of intelligence, training and drudgery. The life has hi charms and pleasant associations, scarce ly know to the outside world; bnt it bas ils earnest workers and anxieties and hours of exhaustion, which are also not known to those who think the business all fun. The idea that newspaperdbm ia a charmed circle, where the favored members live a life of case and free from care, and go to the circus at night on n. free ticket, and to the spring in the sum mer, is an idea which we desire to ex plode practically and theoretically. Busi ness is business, and the journal that suc ceeds is the one that is run on a square business footing, the same as banking or building bridges, keeping a hotel or run ning a livery stable. A Cheerful SenU OH. The following is an address of Judge Underwood, of Home, Ga., to four young lawyers who had just passed an examina tion in his court; "Young gentlemen, I want to say rt thing or two to you. Yoa have passeil as good an examination as usual, perhaps better, but yoa don't know anything. Like these young fellows just back from their graduation college-, you think you, know a great deal. It's- a great mistake. If you ever get to be any account, you will be surprised at your present ignor- ance. Don't be too big for your breeches. Go around to the justices courts and try to learn something. Don't be afraid' let off on a high key. You will no doubt, speak a great deal of nonsense. You will have one consolation nobody will know it. The great mass of mankind t3ke sound for sense. Never mind about your case, pitch in you are about as apt to gain as los. Don't be ashamed at the wise-looking justice. He don't know a thing. He's a dead-beat on knowledge. Stand to your rack, fodder or no fodder, and you will see daylight after awhile. The community gjnerally suppose that you will be rascals. There is no absolute necessity that you should. You may be smart but without leing tricky. Lawyers ought to be gentlemen. Some of them don't come up to the stand ard, and arc a disgrace to the fraternity. They know no more than any other race generally. They don't know anything about sandstones, carboniferous periods and ancient land animals known as fos sils. Men that make out they know a great deal on these subjects don't know much. They are humbugs superb humbugs. They are ancient land ani mals themselves, and will ultimately .be fossils. You are dismissed with the sin cere hope of the- court that you will not make asses of yourselves." A Tra-Vender-! Slltlultc Toronto Globe. A good etory is told of a certain tea pcddlcr, who lives not a hundred miles from Nnpanee, and who was pushing his vocation in the back country. Having called a poor woman and asked her to purchase a box of tea, she told him that she was not able to pay for it, whereupon he proposed to tike the baby that lay in the cradle in exchange for it: and, she at once consenting, he took the baby and left the tea, thinking the woman would soon follow. When he came to the next house he told what he had done, and was informed that the baby did not be long to the woman, but had only been left with her the night before. He then concluded to return the child, but had to give the woman another box of tea to get her to take it back. He says he'll not buv anv more babies. A Snake Attvcnlnrr. From tho Franklin (X. C.) Courier. AVhilc walking through a path from Perry's Church she saw a large snake coming towards her; it very naturally frightened her, and she ran with all her speed, (she was only IS years of age), and the snake right after her. Very soon she came to small creek that crossed her path, and cousin "Sally Dillard" like she prepared to cross, but the snake caught her just as she reached the bank of the creek, and commenced winding him'elf around her leg in a manner too tight for comfort." She seized the reptile by the throat with one hand and with the other drew her knife from hcrockel, which she opened with her teeth, and cut oh his snakeship's head. A little three-year old, warned by her mother not to put her finger into the chopping tray, lest the knife shouM cut them off, said: "I will have more when I get to heaven. Her mother replied: "Ynt will not need them there." "Yes, iM' the child." "I shall; else how can I piny on my harp."