J. R. GROVE & J. B. ODER,
VOLUME I.
Two Lives.
BY OBOROF. W. BEARS.
They sat with their small white feet in the
brook.
Two country maidens, of beauty rare.
Kate, with her bright cspieitie look,
And blue-eyed Blanche with her Bolden hair.
The air was fragrant with new-mown hay.
The wild bee wrought with a drowsy hum !
And they chatted the dreamy hours away
With girlish plans for the year to come.
And she with the eyes of n sparkling jot
Would be content as a farmer’s wile.
To shun the follies that wear and fret,
For the quiet pleasures of country life.
Then Blanche, with her laughing eyes of blue.
Shook down a river of sunny hair
That rippled and flowed in the golden hue
O'er bosom and neck, and shoulder bare.
" And I,” she said, " will live in the town.
With lackeys to go or to come at oall;
And I should bo proud if men might crown
Me queen ofbeanty at rout or ball.
" My husband shall be a millionaire.”
Ah. poorly you guess the future life :
On you, with your beauty ripe and rare,
Shall fall the lot of a armor’s wife
And red lipped Kate, with her midnight curls,
Shall win the riches for which you pine.
Her brow shall glisten with gems and poarls.
Her table with plato and costly wine.
But she shall long for the new mown hay.
And the gttshy shadowson upland leas.
And sicken and tire of her splendid way,
And sigh for the brooks, and birds, and bees.
And you will sneer at your narrow lot.
Anu woary and tire of your household cares.
And each shall covet what each has not.
And pine for the burden the other wears.
Oh 1 city dame, and oh I farmer’s wife—
Each from the other too long estranged ;
Ye were two jewels of love and life.
If but the settling were turned and changed.
MY OLD UMBRELLA.
I always prided myself upon the nut
tinesa of my appearance before I was
married ; and if there was one particu
lar thing which I liked to have stylish,
it was my umbrella. The best silk and
the finest frames were hardly good
enough, and my umbrella was generally
about as slim and nicely shaped as a
cane : so much so that Brown used to
ohalf me continually about its appear
ance, anil say it was a bachelor's um
brella—his being almost the size of Mrs.
(■lamp’s.
It was three years ago this month,
and the weather was evidently in a very
sorrowful mood, for it just poured all
day long, something like cats and dogs
which auntie always uses as a simile
when it rains very hard. I had to leave
the office a number of times during the
day, and about 2 o'clock went to the
bank to get a check cashed, and of
•ourse my umbrella, not this one, was
u constant use. There were some
dozen persons waiting on a line, at the
counter, and I had to wait also. Wait
ing there in a damp room wasn’t very
agreeable; but I just hung my um
brella on the edge of the counter un
til 1 had doiu, and just there 1 lost it,
for 1 got the cash I had forgotten
the umbrella, and left the bank with
cut it.
When I reached the street 1 missed
and back 1 posted, but it was gone—
v lore, by whom taken or how I never
loiind out, but hanging on the counter
instead was an old dilapidated looking
thing, made of blue cotton. It was
enough to make me shower left-handed
blessings on the party who had made
the exehango ; but here, by the way, I
might just as well observe that it was
really a hlossing to me, only in dis
guise.
As the rain poured in torrents, I just
made tile best of the matter, and
stalked into the street as apparently
unconcerned as possible, me, the natty
Thornton, as m, chums called me,
perambulating those streets where my
said friends most do congregate, and
under a big cotton umbrella, large
enough to shelter a whole family ol
seven.
Brown met me first.
“ Ah 1” said he, “got a family now—
congruulate you, my boy I’’
Am from him to the office, each and j'
every friend I had seemed to be in t>-
btret-i JHng 1 „,y appearance
n ,: tli i st or a laugh. Confound it !
I 'most mud enough to smas.i the
ol> 0 to pieces; but 1 didn’t, for
it ruined too hard for any such foolish
ness.
Several times during that afternoon
I vainly endeavored to borrow or steal
another one : hut it was of no use ;
and for home I started with it, getting
into *lie same omnibus as Brown,
who at once commenced at me with,
“ I say, old fellow, when did it take
plaee ?’’
Thinking innocence might extricate
me from this confounded chaffing, I
asked, “ What take place?”
“ Why, your becoming a married
Benedict.”
“ Well, you are mistaken, for I still
remain my own master and am not
compelled to be at home every night at
ten, or else suffer the discordant din of
a scolding partner.”
Ibis was intended for him, but he
shook it off easily, and gnvo it back
with a vengeance.
“ Yes, but being as you are, you are
mightily put out about carrying an um
brella more serviceable than ornamen
tal; whereas, I, being married, satisfy
myself with what I have. To be a
philosopher you must get married, and
who knows but what that same umbrella
may come into service then?”
1 escaped from him then, as I had
reached the street I wunted to get out
at; and, leaving the omnibus, I ele
vated the umbrella to protect mo from
the pouring rain. At the corner, under
a shop awning, stood two lovely
damsels, evidently waiting for the rain
to cease, for they were without um
brellas.
Over-sensitive in regard to my appear
ance, 1 could not help noticing the
Utter as they regarded me. And, to
tell the truth, there was somewhat of a
® KW d!° T‘‘ at ’ Imagine a fasli
jonably-dressed young man, rather good
lookmg’ dectdedly genteel,’and over his
bead an enormous old cotton umbrella,
*nd you 11 see me as those girls saw me
then. °
sSSfIESSIS
“Spdies, my
s*,you are wlth ° ut one, can I offer you
my services as tarns I V,,
revolving that if they went f
memy umbrella than
*feiTeXd : ng “Th^
<a*U be obliged for your
I m^ urbe ’“ We Wen ‘ al °ng I did mv
I ito °P* n a con versation, and soon
had the pleasure of eliciting a few
| words from them. They were both
I very pretty, hut the one called Mary I
thought was particularly a pleasant
young lady, and instinctively desired to
prolong our walk that we might be bet
ter acrpiainted.
Having reached the street in which 1
dwelt, 1 turned to Miss Mary, and said,
“ I live in this stroet, and as I see you
are going further, you are welcome to
the use of the umbrella, for it is but a
step to mv residence. You can return
it at your leisure. Good day."
And leaving them with tho umbrella,
which I knew they would never return,
for I purposely did not give them my
address, I ran home, congratulating my
self at having so pleasantly disposed of
my pest.
Somehow or other, Mary’s eyes were
always in my mind, and I should al
most have forgotten about the old um
brella, if it were not for the remem
brance of her sweet face. After a while
1 came to the. conclusion that I had
actually fallen in love with Mary ; but
who was Mary, and where to find her 1
did not know. And then I began to
wish I had given my address, that the
umbrella might have been returned to
me.
All this took place in march. Months
passed, and 1 never came across either
Mary or the umbrella. How I wished
for a glimpso of either I cannot tell
you : but I did—awful.
1 tilling September I was down at my
friend Wyndham’s place, on the sea
coast for a week or two; and one day
he and I were out fishing in a yacht,
hut noticing a storm coining up, we
thought we had better put into the bay
until it cleared up again.
The sky in the west was already black
with the rushing clouds advancing up
the zenith, and as we passed the Point,
on our way in, we noticed a boat con
taining some parties still fishing, per
fectly unconscious of the rising storm,
for the trees obscured the western sky,
and overhead was still clear. Wyndhain
called my attention to them.
"Good gracious I” exclaimed I, “there
is my umbrella!”
“Where!” said Wyndham.
“Why, there, in that boat, Wynd
ham,” said I. “I must see the people
in that boat, come what may."
And, turning the yacht around, we
sailed toward them. But we had to
sail round a considerable distance ; and
in the mean time the people in the
boat had evidently noticed the coming
storm, for they were pulling up their
anchor.
The umbrella —I was sure it was mine
—still remained elevated, so I could not
see who was beneath it, Iml my heart
boat a little excitedly, for 1 hoped it
would he Mary.
We had nearly reached them when
thewindy foreiunnorof tliestorm struck
the boat, and the next moment it was
overturned, and I saw two ladies and
three men struggling in the water, one
of them clutching tightly to the um
brella, whose strong ribs actually made
a sort of balloon of u, and buoyed het
up, while the wind carried her away
from the others.
“Wyndham!” shouted I, “you pick
up the others, and I’ll look after this
one.”
And tearing off’ my hoots and coat, I
sprang into the water, and swam rapidly
toward her, the wind r.t the same time
carrying her toward me. She was terri
bly frightened, but, seeing me,she seem
ed to take a little courage, and exclaim
ed: “Save me, sir! Oh, what shall I
do?”
Without regarding her questions, I
grasped her under the arms.
her to let go the umbrella,
herself to me.
“Now,” said I, ,ouch ™e, and
we are all right.” ~
And excellent swimmer, !
„ l|)f iJiea along with my feet, pushing her
.n front ol me with my hands, the um
brella in the meantime taking a journey
into the air.
All this took less than two minutes;
and I saw with pleasure that Wyndham
had been equally prompt, and had res
cued the other lady and two of the gen
tlemen—the other of them having swam
ashore—and was now sailing toward us,
the wind carrying him with fearful ve
locity.
“ Haul down those sail,” he cried to
the men, “or we'll puss them.”
The men were equal in promptitude,
and the sails came down the mast and
Happed over the side, nearly upsetting
the yacht, but at the same time imped
ing its speed, so that both the lady and
I were easily pulled aboard. Of course
she fainted after the danger was over,
and, of course, she proved to be Mary
of the umbrella : and, of course again, I
had tlie pleasure of making her ac
quaintance, which, of course, 1 did not
fail to improve; and, of course, I fell
more in love than ever.
Well, things were in this state for
some weeks, and at last I thought the
time had come when 1 would know my
destiny from her lips; so telling Wynd
ham I was going awav for a stroll to
take a few sketches—things 1 knew he
abominated— 1 just walked off’ to Mr.
Graham’s house—that was Mary’s father
—hoping to meet her alone.
Taking a shady wood path which led
up to the rear of the house, I stalked
along for some distance, thinking of
what 1 was about to do. when, happen
ing to glance up, I noticed on the rocks
of the shore mv inevitable cotton um
brella expanded in all its glory.
The umbrella haunted me then, and
1 presaged evil from its appearance,
but, nevertheless, I went toward it,
thinking, of course, that the wind and
the, tide” had driven it ashore, which
they had, but not just there.
There it lay, wide open, its top toward
me, and when I reached it, I seized it
bv the projection of the stick and lifted
it toward me.
By Jove! when I think of the result
I always wonder how 1 got through it
all; for, as I lifted the umbrella, what
was behind and under it was revealed ;
and there, comfortably seated on the
rock, was my Mery and a deuced good
looking young fellow. If I was astound
ed, they were about as much surprised.
Mary blushed, and looked at me as if
to reproach me for such an ungentle
manly action; while the young fellow
looked as if he was about to eat me up,
and muttered, “What d’ye mean, sir?”
“ I beg pardon, Miss Graham," 1
stammered. “ But seeing this umbrel
la, to which I have a slight claim, and
An Independent Paper—Devoted to Literature, Mining. Commercial, Agricultural, (ieneral and Local News
FROSTBURG. ALLEGANY COUNTY, MARYLAND, S
not noticing its occupation by any one,
i I of course I thought I was recovering a
I lost article of my own.”
“ Oh, then,” said Miss Mary, “ you
i are the gentleman who lent us
the umbrella, so kindly some months
ago in London? Harry, this is
! Jane’s and my escort. Don’t you re
. member?”
i This familiarity may have been plea-s
--i ing to Harry, but it by no means fol
i lowed that it was to me ;so 1 remarked
i as coldly as possible ;
“ Miss Graham, I again beg your par
, don for the interruption; and as the
, umbrella is pleasant for your use, allow
me the pleasure of transferring the
ownership to you.”
’ “Gentlemen,” she said, “ allow me to
introduce you to each other. Mr. Thor
nton, this is my cousin, Mr. Harry
Graham, brother to the young lady who
was with me that day. Harry, Mr.
Thornton, the gentleman who saved my
life the other day.”
Did she not “accent” cousin pretty
strongly? I thought she did at least;
and it made me take heart, and act
more pleasantly; and in five minutes
I had the pleasure of finding that
though the young lady was on the
freest terms with Graham, it was only
on account of the relationship between
them.
To explain my appearance, 1 gave the
same excuse as I had to Wyndham, and
was forthwith put to work to make a
sketch of the umbrella, and with them
beneath it, which, of course, I had, only
wishing that Graham was in my place,
and 1 in his.
After a while 1 noticed old Tim
Hayes, tlie fisherman, launching his
boat from the shore, going off' for an
afternoon’s fishing, and Graham seeing
the same, it suddenly occurred to him
that he had promised to go with the old
man that afternoon ; so, begging the
young lady’s leave, ho placed tier once
more under my escort with the um
brella, and 1 need not tell you the re
sult, for here comes Mary, ami she
would ho angry if she knew that I had
been divulging our love affairs, even to
tell the story of our old blue cotton um
brella.
Fashion Items.
Tit e latest idea is to have the instep
of ladies' boots padded, so as to give
the high, arched appearance which is
so much admired.
A new style of round hat for ladies is
a sort of Scotch cap of black velvet or
straw, ornamented with a black wing,
fastened by a dragon-ffy composed of
peacocks’ feathers.
Overskirts are now worn so very long
that the underskirts are usually made
of an inferior quality of silk, with
flounces the same as the overskirt.
The carmm overskirt is of two colors,
say blue and black, to be worn over
white evening dress.
Very light myrtle and olive are the
favorite shades of green in Paris.
The most fashionable neck lace—A
Honiton lace collar.
TnE latest novelty in brooches are
carved spiders, mosquitoes and other in
sects, of tortoise shell.
It is now no longer the fashion to
give one’s fiancee presents prior to mar
riage. So says the London Court Journal.
Many ladies are learning to smoke,
because they have been told that it is
the best remedy known for hay-fever,
or “ rose-cold-”
Bridal hats are made of white satin
J and crepe de chirp-., with a shadow of
V *i over the brow, instead of
; orange blossoms.
Overskirts and polonaise skirts of
grenadine arc not lined, but grenadine
waists and sleeves are lined with silk.
Tight basques of Victoria lawn are not
lined.
Fine all-wool delainos make their ap
pearance after long oblivion, mostly in
all shades of brown.
The basque has been quite superseded
by tlie po'onaise for street wear; but for
the house the former is retained.
The little ladies will be interested in
knowing that a patent has just been
issued in Washington for creeping dolls.
A new style of fan has just appeared,
made of satin and lace, which when
opened is in the shape of a butterfly.
The latest style for setting diamonds
is in filagree silver work, with narrow
rim of black enamel.
Many cashmere sacks are made with
what is called the Zouave hood, which
is very pretty and graceful.
Veils made long like scarfs with
square ends are worn. They are fast
ened at the back, and fall with long
ends at the back.
Some very beautiful muff's for next
season have appeared, made of the
feathers of rare birds.
The shade of red called "Sang de
Prusse" will bo very fashionable in silks
for street costumes.
Some of the ladies wear their hair cut
straight across their foreheads and
hanging down to their eyes, a la Shet
land pony.
Ladies should never remove their
gloves in a car or omnibus, or anywhere
in public, especially if they have on
handsome rings, as it certainly looks as
if it were done for display.
Brides now a days have their wedding
bouquet and marriage bell of (lowers
preserved under glass cases as memen
tos of that happy occasion, and also as
very pretty parlor ornaments.
Something finer and more glossy than
the black alpaca, the various qualities
of which still hold their place in public
favor, are “ beaver mohairs” and “ sable
brilliantine.” They rival silk in rich
ness of appearance.
A dlack silk suit consists of a double
skirt and basque waist—the overskirt
draped at the sides and untrimmed : the
skirt trimmed with one wide and three
narrow ruffles of the material. Basque
waist also trimmed with ruffles.
For the winter, velvet suits will be in
demand, and the various imitations of
the genuine silk article will probably be
in greater favor than ever. The prices
for these goods will probably not vary
much from those of past seasons.
Marshal Bazaine’s Treachery.
I’uri* Correspondence to the New York Evcninv Poet.
The capitulation of Metz was owing
entirely to the treachery of Marshal
Bazaine, who refused to make any sor
i tie, and who yielded up the city against
the wishes of the inhabitants. It is
hinted that he did this in the hope of
saving the Napoleonic dynasty, think
ing that by thus giving Lorraine to the
Prussians they would aid in the restora
tion of Napoleon 111. It is believed
that they acceded to this plan, but
subsequently found the public feeling
against the Kmperor so strong that they
could not carry out the scheme, but
they kept Metz.
The presence of the army of Bazaine,
' which most people have thought was
for its defence, proved the ruin of Metz.
The city is so strongly fortified, that
' with proper provisioning it could have
held out for years; but the immense
army, during its long enforced idleness
before the walls—for the forces were
not in the city at all.—devoured all the
provisions. Metz supplied Bazaine’s
army; and yet, after the capitulation,
the Prussians found provisions in the
camp and sold them to the citizens.
This was after the latter had been for
days subsisting on horse-flesh doled out
in limited rations.
So great was the dissatisfaction of the
authorities of Metz with the policy of
Bazaine, that they went so tar as to
organic a revolt, and proposed the re
moval of the marshal. This, speaking
in a military sense, they had not the
slightest right to do: but the difficulty
in finding a leader who would be accep
table to the army to take Bazaine’s
place prevented the consumption of the
plan. Overtures made to Changarnier,
who was with the army, though holding
no command, was rejected. Frequent
communications passed between Bazaine
and the muncipal authorities, and the
bad feeling existing between them was
not concealed.
The marshal, too, was well aware that
he was suspected of treason. Ife kept
from the knowledge of the citizens the
facts of Sedan, and the people of New
York—nav, of every town in the United
States—knew of the fall of Napoleon
and the surrender of his army a week
or more before the beseiged inhabitants
of Metz heard the startling news. Then
a piece of a German newspaper was
brought into the city in a straggle’s
boot, and from the stray fragment the
all-important intelligence "was gleaned.
The mayor immediately demanded in
formation of Bazaine, who acknowledged
what he could no longer conceal, 'file
vote of dccheanee was known in Metz
only after a longvlelay, and immediately
after the reception of the news the
National Guards tore the imperial
eagles from the public buildings. Up
to this date, however, the word “ impe
riale" has not been removed from the
doors of the different apartments in the
Palais de Justice.
Metz is to-day in heart a French city,
though her streets are filled with Prus
sian troops and she is within the politi
cal bounderies of Prussia. The people
are perfectly outspoken in their deter
mination to tight again for what they
deem their nationality. “ There is my
only son,’’ said a mother to me, pointing
to a lad of 16, “ and 1 expect in a few
years to seo lijm in the army which will
make, us French again.” “If we Have
to remain Prussians,” said a citizen
merchant, “ wo will leave Metz forever.”
Already the wealthier people have re
tired into France. Sixteen thousand
persons have left Metz since the siege,
besides the 20.000 country people who
foolishly sought refuge in its walls on
the approach of the Germans.
More Big Indians Found in Virginia.
Not to be behind Canada, Virginia
puts in a claim to the possession of a
cave full of dead Indians, the Peters
burg Index giving the tale as quoted be
low, on the authority of gentlemen
whom it asserts to be of the highest
character and credit, who have seen
with their own eyes, and touched and
tested with their own hands, the won
derful objects of which they make re
port as follows :
“ The workmen engaged in opening
away for the projected railway between
Weldon and Garysburg, struck on Mon
day, about one mile from the former
place, in a bank beside the river, a cat
acomb of skeletons, supposed to be
those of Indians of a remote age and a
lost and forgotten race. The bodies ex
humed were of strange and remarkable
formation. The skulls were nearly an
inch in thickness; the teeth were filed
sharp, as ate those of cannibals, the en
amel perfectly preserved; the bones
were of wonderful length and strength
—the femur being as long as the leg of
an ordinary man, the stature of the
body being, probably, as great as eight
or nine feet. Near their heads were
sharp stone arrows, stone mortars in
which their corn was brayed, and the
bowls of pipes, apparently of soft friable,
soapstone. The teeth of the skeletons
are said to be as large ns those of horses,
tine of them has been brought to the
city, and presented to an otlicer of the
Petersburg Railroad. The bodies were
found closely packed together, laid tier
on tier, as it seemed. There was no dis
cernable ingress into or egress out of
the mound.”
Lord Gladstone.
Mr. Gladstone has made a singular
exhibition of loss of temper on the hust
ings, on account of the success of the
“ Battle of Dorking.” In a recent
speech at Whitby he referred to that re
markable squib as part of a system of
“alarmism” by which the people of
England were to be prejudiced, if possi
ble, against the Liberal Government.
This was not a lamentable want of tact,
but a discovery of extreme sensitiveness
—of which a member of the cabinet
should never have been guilty. “ The
Battle of Dorking” has meanwhile been
published in the Swiss Review (formerly
of Geneva), in a German translation, for
the benefit of the Continental public.
It will, perhaps, interest Mr. Gladstone
and the British public to learn that an
honest farmer of Surrey, according to
the Richmond Enquirer, has written to a
relative in Virginia, that all this rub- \
bish in the papers about a battle be
tween the Germans and the English at
Dorking is a blasted hoax; that he lives
very near Dorking, and that nothing of
the kind has occurred there at all.
Can a ship with two owners be called
a partnership.
ATURDAY, OCTOBER 14. 1871.
(Questions for Women to Answer.
Elizabeth Stuart Phelps writes in the I
Independent •
That colporteur would perform a truly
Christian work who would circulate
among women a tract bearing these
questions :
How much more power of endurance
does it require to mow a field in the sun
on a July day than to cook three meals
for six men and a family of children
over blazing coals ?
If field-work is more exhaustive to
the system than house and dairy-work,
why is it said that two-thirds of the
women in our insane asylums are farm
ers’ wives ?
How does it happen that a woman
has not the “ physical strength” to fol
low the carpenter's trade who is able to
to take in washing “ for a living?"
How much more muscle is needed for
lifting ladders and adjusting joists, and
striking nails, than for wringing blan
kets and scrubbing overalls ?
By what laws of comparison do we
infer that a woman who can stand at
the ironing table ton hours a day, with
the thermometer at ‘JB deg. in the
shade, her stove on full draught, and
the windows closed, lest the irons cool,
cannot practice the stone mason’s trade
for lack of physical strength ?
Did it ever occur to you that the
woman who can sweep a room can drive
an omnibus? That the dust she takes
into her lungs on Saturdays may possi
bly be as injurious to them as the over
sight and lifting of trunks which would
fall to her in the character of a baggage
master ?
What is to prevent the woman who
can faultlessly superintend the “ house
cleaning” of a large establishment from
qualifying herself to be an “ able and
ladylike” railroad conductor?
Is a woman who can take a large
family through the scarlet fever without
assistance likely to find herself too weak
in body to bear the physical burdens
incumbent upon the profession of a
lawyer ?
Ought not any woman who is able to
be her own nursery-maid to be able to
harness a horse ?
Is it any more unpleasant business to
harness a horse than to boa nursery
maid ?
Does not every housekeeping and
home-working woman perform tasks as
uncleanly, as distasteful, as much calcn
latod to render her coarse, uncomely,
unrefined, “ unladylike,” as the large
majority of those from which she k ■ de
oarred by fear of these results ?
Is it any more unbecoming a respecta
ble woman to be a bricklayer, in a safe
and modest gymnasium costume, than
to waltz in a low-necked dress at an
evening party ?
Are most honest occupations from
which public sentiment excludes women
more foreign to the self-respect of a
woman than most to which she is se
cluded ?
llow de you know for wliat women
are physically qualified till you have
undertaken to learn, rather than to
assume ?
A Fasting Phenomenon.
In a village near Preston there is, it
seems, a woman named Ann Riding, re
siding with her aunt, afflicted with a to
tal loss of appetite; indeed for sixteen
months she has been unable to take any
food at all, and according to all the re
cognized laws of nature ought to have
long since passed away. She still, how
ever, exists, and has been attended by
several doctors, none of whom have
been able to give her substantial relief.
For the last six months remedial opera
tions have been abandoned, her aunt,
who seems to be a sensible old lady, en
tertaining the idea that “ the Almighty
has to do with it,” and that it is useless
to incur expense for medicines witliou.
any hope of cure. It is a comfort to
reflect that the invalid, under these
painful circumstances, can be no source
of expense to her relatives, who are de
scribed as ‘‘humble, honest people,”
making no “show” of the case, which
is hardly known in the district. It is
the duty of every one not to crowd to
the spot for the purpose of satisfying a
morbid curiosity by gazing on the suf
ferer, to whom and her relations every
apology is due for the publication of the
case. The patient herself is evidently
resigned to her lot, for although “fre
quently asked if she will have food she
always refuses it.” Under these cir
cumstances all that can be done is to let
her remain in quiet. Should she re
cover we shall all be rejoiced to hear
the good news ; should she, on the other
hand, unfortunately succumb to the
effects of her prolonged abstinence, we
shall at least have the satisfaction of
feeling that her last moments were not
disturbed, as in the case of the Welch
fasting girl, by the impertinent curiosity
of strangers.— Pall Mall Gazette.
Foundation of Colleges.
The first college in the American col
onies was that at Cambridge, founded
in 1638. The first Commencement was
held in October, 1642, when nine stu
dents were admitted to the degree of
Bachelors. It took its name, Harvard,
from a principal benefactor. For more
than sixty years, gentlemen in Con
necticut sent their sons to Cambridge
for an education; but in 1699 the clergy
in Connecticut nominated ten of their
number as trustees to form a college.
These met in New Haven in 1700, and
formed a society which was to consist of
eleven clergymen and a rector, for the
purpose of establishing and governing
a college. A charter of incorporation
was granted by the Legislature iu Octo
ber, 2701. Mr. Pierson, of Killingworth,
was appointed the first rector, and dur
ing his life he instructed the students
in that town. The first Commencement
was in September, 1702. On the death
of Mr. Pierson in 1705, the students
were placed at Milford and Saybrook,
under different instructors, and so con
tinued until 1716, when New Haven
was made the permanent seat of the
college. It is called Yale College, after
the name of one of the principal bene
factors.
A deaf old gentleman, walking lately
; in his garden, heard the milkman shout
on the other side of the wall. Imagin
ing some one called to him, he cried
“ Here,” and turned his ear-trumpet in
the direction of the wall. The milkman
in his hurry took the trumpet for the
servant’s pail, and delivered a quart of
milk therein.
Tin* Plagiaries.
A correspondent writing Iroin Mazat
lan says: “One of the peculiar pro
ducts of the society' of this country is
the pfaffiario or kidnapper. The ambi
tion of his life is to abduct some
wealthy personage and hold the victim
in safe-keeping until ransomed bv a
large sum of money. The plagairio is
not particular whether his game is a
man, woman or child, so that gold in
abundance is one of the possessions of
the abducted. There have been some
extraordinary cases of kidnapping, the
latest among them being that of a Mrs.
Charles, a Frenchwoman, who a short
time ago went on a visit with her hus
band and other friends to the residence
of a Mr. Polak, at a place called Molino
de Flores, near Otumba. Mr. Charles
and the other visitors had just gone
out to take a look at things about the
house, when nine bandits entered and
boldly seized Mrs. Charles, whom they
carried oft’ as unceremoniously as if she
belonged to them body and soul. The
lady yelled for help and screamed in
agony, but not until it was too late.
Immediately chase was given, but with
out avail, for the plagiarios were well
mounted on fteet horses, and having an
accurate knowledge of the most im
passable fastnesses, made their wav to
them. The next step will be a note ad
dressed to her husband or friends, in
which will bo stated, in the most polite
terms, the conditions upon which the
lady will be returned to her lord and
master. Women captured in this way
are seldom injured, but it may be im
agined that they suffer torture enough
in mind.”
A Deacon's Mite.
The rumor reaches us of an amusing
incident that happened in an up town
church last Sunday. It appears that
the house was. crowded to an unusual
extent that day, aud one of the deacons
was noticeably happy over the thought
that the collection would be very large.
The thought worried him very much,
and faint visions of a heaping plate en
grossed his mini! to such an extent that
he heard but little of the sermon, and
moved his ponderous form about in the
seat with nervous anxiety for the time
of taking up the collection to approach.
At last the warning came—the organ
pealed forth its rich notes, and the
building trembled with the sound.
Every deacon rose to his feet promptly
with brightly shining silver plates, and
among them was the obese church offi
cial before alluded to. He thought to
effect a decoy, and with great difficulty
ran his hand down into his breeches
pocket, abstracting therefrom what he
thought was a silver halt dollar, which
he placed in the plate, and commenced
his rounds of collecting. He noticed
that every one he passed the plate to
laughed, and he was at a loss to know
what it meant. Finally an old brother
in the corner noticed the cause of mer
riment, and bringing their heads very
close together, he whispered to the
deacon : “ Brother , I think you
made a mistake as to the decoy you put
into the plate.” The deacon glanced at
the plate, and turned red and pale al
ternately, for he saw there a large white
faro check, which his embarassment
magnified into the size of a saucer. It
is needless to say that the obnoxious
thing was put out of sight in a hurry,
and the prevailing opinion is that
Brother had been caressing the
tiger the Saturday night previous.
Beautiful Ireland.
We know, of course, that Ireland is
called the “ Emerald Isle,” and that
the color of the emerald is green, but
never had it entered into our im
agination that there was anywhere in
tliis world to be seen such verdure as it
charmed our eyes to look upon in the
rural districts of Ireland. The slopes,
the knolls, the dells, fields of young
grain, over which the breezes creep like
playful spirits of the beautiful; the
pastures, dotted over with sheep of the
purest wool ; the hillsides, rising up into
mist-shrouded mountains, are all cover
ed with thick carpets of smooth, velvet
green. But Ireland should also be call
ed the Flowery Isle. There is not a
spot in Ireland, I believe, where blessed
nature can find an excuse for putting a
flower, but she has j ut one—not only
in the gardens and in the meadows, Imt
upon tlie very walls and the crags of the
sea, from the great blooming rhododen
drons down to the smallest Howret that
modestly peeps forth from its glassy
cover. The Irish furze, so richly yellow,
covers all places that might otherwise
be bare or barren ; the silkworm de
lights everywhere, from thousands of
trees, to "drop its web of gold;” the
blooming hawthorn, with the sweet
scented pink, and especially the white
variety, adorns the landscape and the
gardens: wall flowers, of every hue and
variety, clamber to hide the harshness
of the mural supports; the beetled
clifts of the North Sea are fringed and
softened with lovely flowers : and if you
kneel anywhere almost upon the yield
ing, velvety carpet, you will find little,
well nigh invisible, flowerets, red, white,
blue, and yellow wrought into the very
woof and texture. Ireland ought to be
called tne Beautiful Isle. The spirit of
the Beautiful hovers over and touches
to living loveliness every point. —Pall
Mall Gazette.
A little girl Hix years old was on a
visit to her grandfather, who was a New
England divine. “ Only think, grand
pa, what uncle Robert says.” “ What
does he say, my dear?” “ Why, he says
the moon is made of green cheese. It
isn’t at all, is it°” “ Well, child, sup
pose you find out for yourself?” “ How
can I, grandpa?” “Get your Bible,
and see what it says.” “ Where shall I
begin?” “ Begin at the beginning.”
The child sat down to read the Bible.
When she had read about half through
the second chapter of Genesis, she came
back to her grand father, eyes all bright
with the excitement of discovery.
“ I’ve found it, grandpa ! It isn’t true ;
for God made the moon before he made
any cows.”
A little boy having broken his rock
ing horse the day it was bought, his
mother began to rebuke him, and to
threaten to box his ears. He silenced
her by inquiring, “ What use is a hoss
till it’s broke ?” f
Some very beautiful costumes, which
have just arrived from Paris, have the
waist, which is basque-shaped, an en
tirely different color from the dress.
Editors ami Proprietors.
NUMBER 3.
Vanity.
The sun cmiio* up, and the sun goes down.
And the day and night are the saute as one:
The year grows green, and the year grows brown,
Aud what is it all when all is done ?
Grains of sombre and shining sand.
Sliding into anti out of the hand.
And men go down in ships to the seas,
And a hundred ships are the same .is one.
And backward anti forward blows the breeze.
And what is it all when all is done ?
A tide with never a shore in sight,
.Settingsteadily on to the night.
The fisherman droppeth his net in the stream.
Anti a hundred streams are the same aa one ;
Anti a maiden droameth her love-lit dream.
And what is it all when all is done ?
The net ot the fishers the burden breaks.
Anti after dreaming, the dreamer wakes
lluimiroiis.
Switch tenders —Hair pin.
Much in Brief—The alphabet.
Backgammon—A lady’s panier.
The tune of the smoker—Spit-tune.
Tennyson is aguin Idyling away his
time.
Many plain young ladies live to be
pretty old ones.
Are good looking women ever en
gaged as plain cooks?”
Who was Richard the Third before he
was “ himself again ?”
When may a man be said to be a
book? When he is a tome.
When is a young lady “very like a
whale?” When she’s pouting.
A Western editor reports money
“close, but not close enough to be
reached.”
Some lawyers can’t sleep. They lie
on one side, anti turn over and lie on
the other.
In time the mulberry tree becomes a
silk gown—and a silk gown becomes a
woman.
Inappropriate reward of Merit: Que
ry-Ought an advocate of policy of non
interference in every difficulty be re
warded with a meddle, ?
A hitherto unpublished medical ex
perience : Doctor —“ Have you taken
any remedy?” Patient—“ No,but I’ve
took lots of physic.”
The latest extract from “ What I
know about farming Catch your but
terflies late in August. Select the deep
yellow ones if you would get good, sweet
salable butter.
A swell, wishing to make himself
interesting, asked, “ Maria, what do you
suppose 1 was a hundred years ago?”
“.lust what you are now, nothing at all,”
was the prompt reply.
New Jersey boat-builders merely lay
the planks onto the timbers and get in
side. The musketoes run their sharp
bills through, and the men inside rivet
them. No bolts are needed.
“Where do you hail from?” queried
a Yankee of a traveler. “ Where do
you rain from ?” "1 don’t rain at all,”
said the astonished Jonathan. “ NeiJ
ther do I hail, so mind your own busi
ness.”
A LITTLE bit of a thing, who had just
got back from a party, was asked by
her mamma how she enjoyed herself.
“ 0, mamma I” she said, “ I’m so full of
happiness. 1 couldn't be no happier,
without r wa> bigger.”
Somebody once asked Tom Corwin if
he had heard a certain story of Lewis
D. Campbell’s. “Was it about himself?”
inquired Mr. Corwin. “ No, I believe
not.” “ Well, then, 1 never heard it,”
said Mr. Corwin, gravely.
A correspondent asks, and then an
swers, the following riddle: What is
the difference between the passion for
chignons and a storm at sea? One is
a raging main, and the other a raging
mania.
On hearing the report that the shock
ing condition of the firemen’s hose had
resulted in the destruction of a large
amount of property, a woman sat up
all night darning her husband’s stock
ings.
More revenge for tho Union —ISaxon
tourist (at Irish railway station): “What
time does the half-past eleven train start,
Paddy ?” Porter: “At thurtty minutes
to twelve—sliarrup, sir I”
Harry—“ Your dawg is werry thin,
William.” William—” He is werry
bad ; but when he dies I am going to
stuff him, Harry.” Harry (insinuating
ly)_“ Hadn’t you better stuff him be
fore he dies?”
The rite of baptism being about to bo
administered to several infants, a con
fused clergyman requested, with great
solemnity, that “ All children having
parents whom they wish to be baptized,
will please to present them before the
altar.”
A Scotch minister recently told his
neighbor that he spoke two hours and
a half the Sunday previous. “ Why,
were you not tired to death ?” asked the
neighbor. “ Aw, nae,” said he ; “ I was
as fresh as a rose; “but it would have
done your heart good to see how tired
the congregation was.”
A lady, impelled by the demands ot
fashion to seek recreation (?) in the
country during the summer monthß,
writes back despairingly : “ Did you
ever revel in the gaities of a half-grown,
torpid village, where a walk to the
grave-yard was the only recreation, and
where, if you indignantly refuse to
walk, you were shudderingiy reminded,
‘ Ah, poor child, you may have to go
there soon ?’ ”
Railway Accidents.
A careful investigation recently made,
shows that in England the systematic
overworking of railway employes is a
fruitful sources of accident. The gen
tleman making the investigation has
found cases in which engine-drivers have
been kept at work for twenty-three,
twenty-four, and sometimes for twenty
eight hours, without intermission;
guards (conductors) have served con
tinuously for forty hours ; and signal
men are required to remain at their
posts for twelve or thirteen hours every
day, gaining an occasional Sunday of
rest only by woiking eighteen, hours on
the Saturday preceding. Now that the
subject of railway accident* is likely to
receive some attention at the hands of
our law givers, would it not be well, to
make some inquiries into the require
ments of our railway companies in this
matter.