J. R. GROYE & J. R. ODER,
VOLUME I,
The I)oor-Stop.
IIT EDMI N D C. STEADMAN.
Tho conference meeting through at I a- 1 ,
_ We boys around tho vestry waited
To see tho girls come tripping past.
Like snow-birds waiting to be mat ■
Not braver he that leaps tho wall
By level musket flashes litten.
Than I, who stepped before them all.
Who longed to see me got tho mitten.
But no, she blushed and took my arm!
>V e let the old folks take the highway.
Aad started toward Maple Farm
Along a sort of lovers' by-way.
1 fan’t remember what we said,
Twas nothing worth a song or story,
let that rude path by which wo speil
Seemed all transformed and in a glory.
These °„ was er j g p beneath our feet,
_ The inoon was full, the fields were gi earning ;
By hood and tippet sheltered sweet,
Her face with youth and health was beaming.
The little hand outside her muff—
H sculptor, if you could but mold it!
So hghtly touched my jacket cuff.
To keep it warm l had to hold it.
To have her with me there alone,
Twaa lovo and fear and triumph blended :
At last we reached the foot-worn stone.
Where that delicious iourney ended.
She shook her ringlets from her brow.
And with a " Thank you, Ned," dissembled ;
But yet I knew she understood
With what a daring wish I trembled.
A cloud passed kindly overhead.
The raocn was slowly peeping through it,
> et hid its face as if it said.
* Come now or nover I do it 1 do it!”
My lips till then had only known
The kiss of mother and of aister.
Hut, somehow, full upon her own
.Sweot, rosy, darling mouth—l kissed her !
Ccthaps ’twos only boyish love, yet, still,
fr r Bailees woman ! weary lover !
I t, ■ onco , more that fresh wild thrill
I d give—Pot who can live life over?
STORY OF AN INKSTAND,
WITH TnE INKSTAND I.EFT OFT.
“ That inkstand ? Yes, it has a his
tory. I may as well tell it to you now
as any other time, 1 suppose. You
ought to he called the Great American
History Extractor, or Romance Ex
tractor; for if there is a particle of ro
mance in anything or anybody in a
place where you happen to be, you are
sure to scent it out.”
“Of all days, this is the most glorious
one for a romance—the rain falling with
that steady, monotonous drip, drip,
drip; not a soul in the house but our
selves, and we so snug in this splendid
old library.”
Mag Hastings was indeed an indefati
gable romance-hunter. She was always
looking for situations where the roman
tic predominated. She would have
succeeded as a dramatist, without a
doubt. She was apparently as happy as
mortal could he on the morning in
question, nestled in the depths of my
scarlet lounge, perfectly ceriain that
she looked picturesque in her dark
green Btrect suit, relieved by tho dain
tiest linen.
“Come here, pet!” said she; anil a
hunch of white wool, with a blue ribbon
tied at one end of it, marking a spot
where in a dog a neck would be, trotted
mysteriously toward her. WUnt pro
polling [lower there could be in the
shaggy thing was a wonder I never
could get over, but somehow it man
aged to spring into Mag’s arms, and
then the silence assured me that my
story was expected.
The surroundings were favorable for
story-telling, it is true. The room
heavily wainscoted with dark wood; the
cases of hooks of all times and of all
varieties; tho long windows richly
draped with scarlet brocade, lined with
exquisite lace; tho thick soft carpet of
mottled green; the Turkish lounges,
the quaint chairs, luxuriously uphol
stered ; the bronzes on the mantle and
in niches and corners—bronzes that
told old stories of mythology; the en
gravings on the wall; the little gems in
oil selected for their wonderful coloring
—an autumn scene, a burning ship, a
•group of German peasants; the glowing
tire of sea-coal, and tho polished hearth
and fender—all appealed to the love of
the beautiful and the picturesque, while
the cold, unceasing rain, the bare,
gaunt trees, tho dripping shrubbery,
and the blanched grass drove the
thoughts within for solace and amuse
ment.
The inkstand that Mag Hastings re
ferred to was a pretty affair in Swiss'
carving. It represented two little
peasants carrying water, the buckets
suspended from a pole resting in a hand
of each. Of course tho water-pails were
the ink receptacles, and the pole was
the pen-rack. It was [ioetic and real
istic at the same time, and as pretty a
trifle for a library table as one would
wish to see.
“ The story is a sad one, Mag,” said I.
” It will give you the blues for tho rest
of the day.”
“ So much the better,” she answered,
with a true dramatic love of the horri
ble—“ so much the better. I’d like to
be stirred up a little. I fear I’m too
comfortable. A little dash of imagina
tive sorrow is needed to relieve this per
fect enjoyment. A little shade throws
out the good points of anything, you
know. Isn’t it so, pet?” and she
pinched the little appendage dignified
by the name of tail till a sharp yelp
came out of the soft white mass in her
arms. “ There, I told you so, pet; now
you’ll know what true repose is.”
“ I should scold you, Mag," said I, “if
it were the least use in the world. But
you are incorrigible; so 1 will go on.
Time will give you shadow enough,
without doubt.”
“ When I was in Venice— ’’ I com
menced.
“ In Venice I” exclaimed Mag, sitting
bolt upright, and giving the little dump
ling of a poodle a push that brought
out. a most spiteful yelp. “ When were
you ever in Venico?”
“ Why, you know, Mag, that I was
abroad more than two years. In fact, I
had just returned when you and I be
came acquainted,” I replied, wondering
a little at the unusual interest she ap
peared to take in the commencement
of my story.
“Oh, I knew that,” she replied. “But
I never heard you say anything about
Venice;” again reclining and closing
hc-r eyes, as much as to say, “Go on. I
am at a loss to conceive what made mo
so foolish as to distuih myself for bo
slight a thing as the mention of a for
eign and defunct city.”
“Well, when I was in Venice— l be
lieve it was the second month of my
stay there— Charles came in one day”
(Charles is my husband) “from a long
tramp about the Palazzo Loredan, the
Ca’d’ Oro—you know which I mean—
the one built in the sixteenth century,
in the oriental style, and restored by
Mile. Taglioni, the celebrated dancer—”
“Oh, yes,” said Mag, impatiently, “ I
| know all about it. Haven’t I been
j there? wasn't I born there? haven't I
j always lived there? didn’t the doge ol
! Venice christen me? didn’t I draw my
first breath on the Bridge of Sighs? and
wasn’t I one of Mile. Taglioni’s pupils?
Go ahead and tell me what Charles said
when he came back from his tramp
about the Ca’d’ Oro. But never mind
the architecture ; I’m not building at
prosen t.”
I had seen Margaret in many strange
moods, but never felt her to he so utter-
Iv incorrigible as upon this occasion.
However. I resumed without appearing
to remark it.
“ Charles came in, and said, hastily,
‘ Nell, tell Pedro to get up a nice lunch
just as quick ns he can. 1 have brought
an invalid home with me, and if I can
I shall persuade him to remain a while
with us. I hnve taken a strange fancy
to the fellow, and should like to have
him where we could take a little care oi
hitn. He will certainly die if somebody
don't take an interest in him. So I
hurried around, and after a little Pedro
and I—”
“Oh, never mind about tho lunch I”
interrupted Mag again, without opening
her eyes, and with a little tremble in
her voice, which I could not under
stand. “ Proceed with the man ! Ani
mals always interest me more than
food.” v
“ You would not call Austin Benedict
an animal if you could seo him once,”
I replied, a little indignantly, anil was
about to add that I didn’t wish Charles
mixed up with that species either, when
over went tho lap-dog on to the lounge,
and Mag said, irritably:
“ I believe that animal thinks I have
nothing to do but to make my lap into
a bed for his convenience. Go on, Nell.
Austin Benedict! Austin Benedict is a
good name. I’ll bet my new solitaire
against three cents that his character
was as stony as his cognomen. A man
called Austin Benedict would do what
he considered to be right, if by so doing
it killed him and everybody he was ac
quainted with ! I wish you would ring
for some wine, Nell. I am as cold as
death. Don’t get up, though—and
please go on.”
“Yes," 1 resumed, “you are quite
right about Mr. Benedict’s character. I
believe there is something in names.
But for all that the fellow was dying for
love.”
“ A very interesting case,” said Mag,
turning deathly pale. “Do you know
the circumstances?” and then, with the
slightest perceptiblo sneer, added, “ A
man must be very strong to admit such
a thing about himself.”
“Oh,” I answered, “it was a long
time before we got at the facts in the
case; but one day, when I sat by him,
and we all thought he couldn’t last
many hours, he told me the whole
story.”
41 When you sal Lj ltiiu, uud lliuu r lil
he couldn't last many hours, he told
you the whole story !” repeated Mag, in
strange fort of away. “ Did he die f ’
“No ; he rallied again,” I answered,
almost cut of breath at Mag's behavior.
“ It seems that he loved with his whole
heart and soul a very beautiful and
much-sought-after young lady. She
pretended to love him. Her parents were
opposed to the match ; she proposed to
defy her parents. The next news he
receives comes in the form of a letter
from her, telling him that she finds she
does not care for him as she supposed,
and asking to be freed from her en
gagement.”
“ He did receive such a letter, did he?
Austin Benedict did receive such a let
ter?” and Mag arose from her recum
bent position, and stood before me, pale
as a corpse, but with the light of forty
avenging angels in her eyes. “ I never
wrote the letter !” she exclaimed. “It
is a forgery from beginning to end 1
Nell Harris, you took care M Austin
Benedict in his last hours?” And now
the proud head of Margaret Hastings
was buried in my lap.
“ 1 took care of him when he was ill,”
1 replied.
“And he loved the woman he believed
to be false to the last ?”
“ He loved the woman—”
“Oh, Nell! Nell! what shall I do?
How can I ever live, now that I know
ho died witli that cruel impression of
me?” interrupted poor Mag giving me
no opportunity to explain myself.
“ You took care of him—you made him
comfortable —you kissed him when he
was dying ; and I—loved and despised,
I—” '
It was about time for me to insist
upon being listened to; so I said, “Stop
a minute, Mag, darling. I did do all 1
could for Austin Benedict’s comfort,
and have kissed him agood many times;
but not when he was dying, Mag ; for
he hasn’t passed away yet, unless he
has accomplished that feat to-day, and
—and—”
“ What in the world is all this?” said
Charles, who hail entered softly with
his latch-key.
“ Where is Austin ?” I asked, in a
whisper; for Mag was so still I didn't
know but that she was dead.
“ Here !” said the dear fellow, bound
ing forward. Ho stopped suddenly at
sight of the figure at my feet. “In the
name of the angels, Nell, what is this?
and whom have you got there?"
One little faint" cry from Mag, and she
was a dead weight in Austin Benedict’s
arms. That was answer enough.
Such a day as that was! Between
swoons, explanations, and embraces my
mind got to running upon lunatic asy
lums ; hut the sun set clear, and my
reason remained unobscured. There
was a wedding that same evening in the
same library; and in all the happiness
I ever witnessed—Charles's and mine
thrown in—l know I never saw such
perfect, unalloyed joy as exists between
Mr. and Mrs. Austin Benedict. Mag
didn’t give mo time to get to the ink
stand, so you must imagine the history
of that.
The King of Siam resolved to avail
himself of the knowledge and experi
ence of the English miners and men of
science. Several Cornish tin-miners
have been engaged to proceed to Siam
to work over the auriferous deposits of
that country; and Mr. Charles Twite, a
gentleman whohasspent many years in
Parliament, is engaged to go at once to
Siam, to direct, in the first place, the
mining operations, and, during the hot
season, when work in the field is not
possible, to give instruction in geology
to the youth of Siam.
An Independent Paper—Devoted to Literature, Mining, Commercial, Agricultural, General and Local News.
FROSTBURG, ALLEGANY COUNTY, MARYLAND, SATURDAY, JANUARY ‘2O, 1872.
The Scottish ltallnd, “Auld Robin
Gray.”
Leigh Hunt once remarked that Robin
Gray had “suffused more eyes witli
tears of the first water than any other
ballad that was ever written.” The
song was once very popular in England,
and it is still a favorite among those
people who have the gift of ballad
singing. It was written by Lady Anne
Barnard, who died in 1825. The his
tory of the composition is curious.
Lady Barnard thus relates the circum
stances under which it was produced, in
a letter to Sir Walter Scott:
“ Robin Gray,” so enlled from this
being the name of tho old herder at Bal
carras, was horn soon after the close of
the year 1771. My sister Margaret had
married, and accompanied her husband
to London. I was melancholy, and en
deavored to amuse myself by attempt
ing a few poetical trifles. There was an
ancient Scotch melody, of which I was
passionately fond ; , who lived
before your day, used to sing it to us at
Balcarras. She did not otyect to its
having improper words, though I did.
I longed to sing old Sophy's melody to
difforert words, and give to its plaintive
tones some little history of virtuous
distress in humble life, such ns might
suit it.
While attempting to eiiect this in my
closet, I called to my little sister, now
Lady Ilardwicke, who was tho only per
son near me:
“ I have been writing a ballad, my
dear; lam oppressing my heroine with
many misfortunes. I have already sent
her Jamie to sea—and broken her
father's arm—and made her mother fall
sick—and given her Auld Robin Gray
for her lover; but 1 wish to load her
with a fifth sorrow within the four lines,
poor thing! Help me to one.”
“ Steal the cow, sister Anne,” said the
little Elizabeth. The cow was imme
diately lifted by me, and tho song com
pleted.
At our fireside, and among our neigh
bors, “Auld Robin Gray” was always
called for. 1 was pleased in secret with
the approbation it met with ; but such
was my dread of being suspected of
writing anything, perceiving tho shy
ness it created in those who could write
nothing, that 1 carefully kept my own
secret.
Meanwhile, little as this matter seems
to have been worthy of a dispute, it
afterward became a party question be
tween the sixteenth and eighteenth
centuries. “ Robin Gray” was either a
very ancient ballad, composed perhaps
by David Rizzio, and a great curiosity,
or a very modern matter, and no curi
osity at all. I was persecuted to avow
whether I had written it or not, —-where
I had got it. Old Sophy kept my coun
sel, and I kept my own, in spite of the
gratification of seeing a reward of twen
ty guineas offered in the newspapers to
the nerson who should ascertain the
point past a doubt, and tile htill ur
llattering circumstance of a visit from
Mr. Jerningliam, Secretary to the Anti
quarian Society, who endeavored to en
trap the truth from me in a manner I
took amiss. Had he asked me the
question obligingly, I should have told
him the fact distinctly and confiden
tially. The annoyance, however, of this
important ambassador from the antiqua
ries was amply repaid to me by the no
ble exhibition of the “Ballad of Auld
Robin Gray’s Courtship,” as performed
by dancing dogs under my window. It
prfived its popularity from the highest
to the lowest, and gave me pleasure
while 1 hugged myself in my obscurity.
“ AULD RIIBIS GRAY.’’
When the sheep are in the fault!, when tho cows come
haine.
When a’ the weary world to quiet rest art? Kane,
The woes of my heart fa’ in showers fra my ee,
i T nken’d by my gudeman. who soundly sleeps by me.
Young Jamie loo’d me weel, and sought mo for his
bride;
But saving ae crown-piece, he'd nathing els® beside.
To make the crown a pound, my Jamie gaed to sea;
And the crown and the pound, 0, they were baith for
me!
Before h* had been gano a twelvemonth ami a day.
My father brak his arm, our cow was stown away ;
My mother she fell sick—my Jamie was at sea—
And Auld Robin Gray, 0, ho cam® a-courting ine.
My father cou’dna work, my mother cou’dna spin ;
I toiled day and night, but their bread I cou'dna win;
Auld Rob maintained them baith, and wi’ tears in his
ee,
Said, " Jenny, 0, for their sakes, will you marry me ?"
My heart it said Nu. and I looked for Jamie back •
But hard blew the winds, and his ship was a wrack ;
His ship it was a wrack ! Why didna Jamie dee?
Or wherefore am 1 spar’d to cry out, “ Woe is ine!
My father argued sair—my mother didna speak.
But she looked in my face till my heart was like to
break;
They gied him my hand, but my heart was in the sea;
And so Auld Kobiu Gray, he was gudeman to mo.
I hadna been his wife a week but only four.
When mournfu’ as I sat on the stane at my door,
I saw my Jamie’s ghaist—l cou’dna think it he.
Till he said. "I’m come hame, my love, to marry
th®el”
0. sair, sair did we greet, and mickle say of a':
Ae kis-t we took, nae mair—l had him gang awn
I wish that I were dead, hut I’m no like to dee;
For, O, I am but young to cry out, ** Woe is m® !”
I gang like a ghaist, and I carena much to spin !
I darena think o’ Jamie, for that wad be a sin.
But I will do my best a gude wife aye to be.
For Auld Robin Gray. 0. h® is sae kind to me l
Victor Emmanuel's Army.
How well prepared Italy is to main
tain an army may bo understood from
the present unsatisfactory character of
her financial position. The idea of
making Rome the capital of the United
Kingdom has already cost as much as
it was worth. Its public revenue lor
1870 was £38,021,530, its expenditure
£44,485,040, showing a clear deficit of
nearly $30,000,000. Its public debt in
April, 1869, was at such an uncertain
amount that it must he expressed in
round numbers at £300,000,000. It
paid interest on the debt in 1870
amounting to £18,692,592. Its exports
in 1867 —the last year of which we have
any record—were £6,000,000 less than
its imports. From one country alone
last year it exported but one half of
what it imported. It has a population
of 25,000,000, of whom two years since,
before the Convention of September
was broken, 4 were Generals, 13 Lieu
tenant-Generals, 97 Major-Generals, 221
Colonel, 263 Lieutenant-Colonels, 759
Majors, about 17,000 other officert, and
360,000 were effective soldiers, or is not
effective, at least so described in tho of
ficial reports. Thus on the Ist of
January, 1870, there were under colors
546,442 men. These were withdrawn
from positions in which their superior
intelligence might have made them of
of material benefit to the country—
-11,232 officers, besides 3,634 who were
available and might bo called on at any
time loseive.
A Sioux Citv, lowa, paper tells of a
woman there who “ died, and was dead
two hours, and recovered again.”
Farm ami Garden.
Wind-Sucking in Horses.—Wind-suck
ing in horses bears a close analogy to
crib-biting. It arises from the same
causes, the same purposes are accom
plished. and the same results follow.
An undue amount of wind is taken
into the stomach, and considerable flat
ulence is caused thereby; in addition
to this there is an injurious waste of
saliva. These combined' evils impair
thehorse’s condition, and thereby lessen
his value. Opinions predicated upon
these results are to the effect that a
horse afflicted with either crib-biting or
wind-sucking is unsound. There is no
permanent cure for either.— Turf, Field,
and Farm.
Effects of Mixing Cream. —That the
cream of different cows when mixed
does not produce butter at the same
time, with the same amount of churn
ing, has been nicely illustrated in the
family of Mark Hughes, at West Grove,
Pa., recently. They had an Alderney
heifer in good flow of milk, and an old
cow. a stripper; their cream worked to
gether; it was observed that they did
not make butter enough for the hulk of
the cream. The buttermilk also looked
rich, and seemed to collect a cream
upon it. They put tho buttermilk in
the churn again, after having the butter
first to come, and made about five
pounds. They churned again for a few
minutes, and found from two to three
pounds more butter in the churn;
showing that the heifer’s cream had
made butter first, and that tho cream of
tho old cow needed several minutes
more churning.
Copper Wire. —Something to mend
with—that is the great need of us all,
especially of those who live in the
country, and whose traps are sometimes
“ rattle-traps,” and have away of break
ing at inconvenient times. An old
officer of the Coast Survey, who had
spent thirty years in field service, once
told us that he never went from camp
in the morning without having a spool
of copper wire in his wagon, and that,
as a consequence, he never had a break
down he could not repairon the road, in
the woods, or wherever he might be.
Harness, wagons, tools, everything al
most that is subject to breakage, may
be stoutly mended with copper wire,
which is flcxiblo and tougii. The best
size for Buch use as we are now consider
ing is the size of a rather large knitting
needle, of which a piece two yards
long may be coiled up to about the size
of a watch, so as to be carried in the
pocket—the end being wound around
the coil, to keep it in place. This will,
then, always be at hand ready to mend
a broken tool. A longer piece of the
same wire, tightly wound on a spool or
on a stick, may he always kept in the
wagon to repair any damage to it or to
tho harness. Such a spool as carpenters
use for a chalk-lino will carry enough
Stable Management in Winter. —There
are few farmers nowadays hut like to
dlivea fine team of horses, and yet, as
a class, their horses in winter do not
carry the coats that animals in high
health should. The reason in nine
cases out of ten is inattention to stable
management. They are fed and watered
regularly and liberally, but as a rule
they suffer from cold and a want of
cleaning, and too often from a too lib
eral use of the currycomb. This imple
ment should be principally used to
keep the brush clean, applying it only
lightly to the man to loosen the dirt —
never about the limbs, and especially
the points. A liberal use of the brush
will give tho coat that peculiarly glossy
appearance so much admired in a well
kept horse. The stable should be as
warm as possible, consistent with venti
lation, anil good blankets should be pro
vided for each working horse. It is
not only conducive to comfort, but it
also saves feed and often the health of
the horse. Plenty of soft bedding
should also be given at night, and the
racks and mangers should be so ar
ranged that the animal can take its hav
without danger of filling its eyes and
mane with the seed. The stalls should
be roomy enough so that the animal can
He at ease, and the halter strap soar
ranged that the horse can get up and
down easily, and without danger of
casting itself; above all things, do not
allow the stable to go without cleaning
at least twice each day. After bringing
in the team at night, sweating perhaps,
do not go to bed without first thoroughly
cleaning them. A partly worn broom,
cut square, is an excellent thing for
cleaning the limbs from dirt, if not too
harshly used. It is attention to little
matters about tho stable thatgocß far to
make up the economy thereof, and it
costs less time to do the work regularly
and at proper times than to have an oc
casional cleaning up.
From the Altar to the Grave.
From tho Philadelphia Post, Dec. 23.
On last Wednesday, Mr. John Henry
Boraef, residing with his uncle at No.
617 North Thirteenth street, was taken
with the small-pox. He called upon
his physician, who advised him to re
tire to his room, as he had a severe at
tack of the disease mentioned above.
Mr. Boraef, who was about 32 years of
age, had for some time been engaged to
an estimable young lady named Mary
A. Ewing. On Thursday Mr. Boraef
found himself much worse, and became
alarmed. Tho disease, instead of at
tacking him outwardly, settled inward
ly, which is always dangerous, and gen
erally results fatally.
On Friday his condition was critical,
and the physician said there was no
hope. The dying man then expressed
a desire to be married to the young lady
to whom he was engaged. It was found
impossible to secure a clergyman to
perform the marriage ceremony, owing
to tho disease of which he was dying,
and Alderman Hagey was called in.
Articles of agreement were drawn up
and signed by Mr. Boraef in his cham
ber. Tho young lady also signed them
and tho Alderman put his official seal
upon the document and declared the
parties man and wife. On Saturday
the young man died, and the next day
was buried. The remains were interred
in North Laurel Hill Cemetery.
And now comes the sad sequel to the
above:
“ Boraef—Suddenly on the 16th
inst., Mary A. Boraef, wife of the late
John Henry Boraef, daughter of Lucy
A. and the late Samuel Ewing.”
The cause of death—it seems almost
unnecessary to state it—was small-pox.
Foreign Notes.
The Ijibertc, a socialistic paper of
Brussels, in reference to the executions
at Versailles, remarks : “ All the blood
that flows on M. Thier’s Hannel waist
coat will not mako a purple mantle of
it.”
A member of the Liverpool Stock
Exchange recently threw a quantity of
waste paper into tho fire, and with it
Bank of England notes to the amount
£I,OOO. As the notes wore not numbered
he will have to bear the entire loss.
A number of English Unitarians, as
sembled in solemn conclave, recently
passed a resolution declaring that
“ This meeting does not believe in the
doctrine of an endless hell, as taught
in the shorter catechism.”
Persons desirous of procuring verita
ble “ Chateaux en flspagne ” are notified
that tiie Empress Eugenie is offering
for sale several lots of such property,
including tho chateau of Arteaga, said
to he one of tho finest estates in Spain.
The Prince of Wales and some other
members of the Royal family of Great
Britain recently visited Reading, and
wore “right royally” feasted by the
Mayor and Corporation. The hill
amounted to SB,OOO, which was taken
from the borough rate ; but the good
people of tho town have decided to call
a mass meeting with a view to action
being taken in tho Court of tjuoon’s
Bench to compel tho corporation to re
fund to tho rate-payers the sum of
SB,OOO.
“L'Hommk Orchestre,” so-called be
cause ho played at tho same time tho
drum, cymbals, castanottes, horn, and
triangles with his mouth, hands, head,
knees, and feet, has been released from
the hulks where he was onfined for his
International proclivities, but will
probably be refused permission to give
his former representations in the open
air-vive la ltepublique.
At a libel ease in England, the plain
tiff, a married woman, in order to prove
that the libel had inflicted upon her
special pecuniary damage, stated in her
declaration that by reason of it she had
lost the benefit of “ entertainment at
the house of friends.” To this it was
demurred that the loss, if any, arising
from til is cause was the husband's loss
and not the wife’s, since upon him as
legally hound to support the wife the
additonal expense caused by the “loss
of the entertainment” fell. The judges,
however, ruled that it must be assumed
that the friends whose hospitality the
plaintiff had lost were in the habit of
“ entertaing her in a more sumjituous
manner than she was accustomed to at
home,” and that she had thus sustained
a personal damage in the loss of these
invitations.
A mono the many sinecures under the
Britisli government is one which is con
editorship of the London Gazette, a
semi-weekly paper which has been for
two hundred years the official organ for
all legal advertising, but contains no
news nor editorial matter. For many
years past the salary attached to this
nominal “editorship” has been £80(1 (or
$4,000) a year. Two years age, on the
death of the incumbent, Mr. Lowe, the
Chancellor of the Exchequer wanted
to abolish this office, but was opposed
by Mr. Gladstone, who held that it was
both right and expedient to reserve it
as some way of rewarding gentlemen
connected with the press who have
rendered important service to tho
government. The decision of tho min
istry was to retain the office, and the
moment this was known about two
hundred candidates, all connected with
literature or tho press, competed for
the vacant post. It was finally given to
Mr. Thos. Walker, late editor of the
Daily News, and a staunch supporter of
liberal principles. The appointment is
for life.
Polygamy in the Aretic Regions.
Two or three years ago an American
vessel, the Japan, was shipwrecked on
the extreme northern coast of Siberia,
inhabited by a mixed race supposed to
have originated from a mingling of the
Russian and Tartar tribes, among whom
the crew spent a considerable time.
Ultimately they were taken off' by a
New Bedford whaler, and lately reached
the Sandwich Islands with the crews of
the ships abandoned in the Arctic
Ocean. The description which they
give of the customs and modes of life
of their singular entertainers ought to
have an especial interest for those san
guine persons who entertain an idea
that the whole world is ripe tor the es
tablishment of a universal republic.
The staple food of these people consists
of raw whale and walrus in a state of
decomposition, while such is their im
moderate love of tobacco, which, in
common with alcohol, they procure
from occasional traders, tl at children
of both sexes, only a few months old,
may bo seen engaged in chewing the
weed. In the summer months they
live in huts made of walrus hide, and
in winter in holes excavated in the
mountain sides, daylight being admit
ted through holes cut in the rock,
which are stopped up with ice instead
of glass. During the summer the men
employ themselves in hunting the whale
and walrus in canoes, while tho women
are kept busy in gathering grass and
herbs for edible and other purposes.
In winter the chief objects of pursuit
are deer, bear and foxes. The walrus,
however, is their staplo reliance, the
blubber being placed in pits whose
warmth soon reduces it to a state of pu
trefaction, in which condition it is es
teemed as a great luxury, while the
hide furnishes material for huts, canvas,
clothing, fishing nets, and pretty nearly
everything else. Polygamy is indulged
in to an unlimited extent, each man
having as many wives as he can keep ;
the women, if they do not suit the
tastes or meet the expectations of the
husband, being discarded and sent back
to their parents after a few weeks’ pro
bation, while in case of infidelity to
their liege lord a portion of the offend
er’s nose is forfeited for the crime.
The marines say, very naively, that they
met with many victims of this rigorous
law during their sojourn among them.
Mrs. Davis, a young married lady,
living near Gosport, Ind., recently blew
her brains out in a fit of jealousy, be
cause her husband went to a spelling
j school.
Decline of New York.
The New York Tribune is much exer
cised over the decline of the commerce
of that port and its diversion to Boston,
as well as the slow increase in the value
of real estate as compared with the lat
ter city. It says :
“ In the many causes of reform, for
which the Tribune has assiduously la
bored, great troublo has been experi
enced in thoroughly arousing the people
not directly interested, to a realization
of tiie true condition of affairs. It is
not sufficient to tell them that the com
merce of the city is undergoing a pro
cess of gradual but sure destruction;
that the population has not increased at
the ratio that might have been justly
expected ; and that tho value of real es
tate is depreciated by every eecline in
such ratio. Every one can assign some
special reason which clearly proves to
his mind that the land on which his
dwelling stands, and tho trade by which
he lives, are not affected in the least by
the general commercial decline. To
this same pernicious indifference is to
be ascribed tho general neglect of pub
lie duty on the part of the people
which enabled the Ring to obtain abso
lute control of tho affairs of (ho city.
The Tribune has, in previous articles,
established the fact of tho most start
ling decrease of the trade and com
merce of New York, yet few, compara
tively, realize that they have any indi
vidual interest in the matter. There
can bo no public injury without private
wrong. Injury to the public good can
only be brought about by abuses inflict
ed on a number of individuals. The at
tention of the merchants and trades
men has been heretofore more particu
larly asked, hut on this occasion it will
be demonstrated to the real estate own
ers that they are just as intimately in
terested in the growth of trade and
population as are the former classes.
“ The period of tho city’s greatest
prosperity was the fifteen years which
preceded 1860. During that time the
tunnagoof the port, and the transporta
tion on the canals and railroads leading
into the city—together with the entire
population—more than doubled. Since
1860, however, there has been a great
check both to the growth of trade and
in the increase of population, and the
value of real estate has suffered in a
corresponding ratio. It is only within
the last few years that the owners of
this property began to realize that there
was a decrease in the ratio of growth
in population. Since that time, how
ever, this loss has had a marked effect,
as will appear, from the comparative in
crease on real estate in New York and
Boston. This comparison illustrates
also the effect of the decline in New
York’s commerce and its diversion to
Boston :
“ COMPARATIVE INCREASE IN THE VALUE
OF REAL ESTATE IN NEW YORK AND BOS
TON.
New York J769.3U2.2M $742.202.52.1.06
Inert-use 27,099,725.00
Taxes 23,569,127.71
Net increase $3,530,597.29
1671. 1870.
Boston 5365.5y3.10t) $341,878.100
Increase 20.715,000
Total city tax 8,636,862
Net increase $12,073,132
“Thus it appears that although the
real estate of Boston is less than half
that of New York, the increase pays all
the city taxes with a surplus of $12,-
000,000, while the increase of New York
leaves a surplus of only $3,500,000.
“ This ought to convince the real es
tate owners of this city that they cannot
neglect their public duties without suf
fering loss ; nor can they longer remain
indifferent to the loss of trade and the
diversion of population without sustain
ing an irreparable injury. The danger
of sudden loss to property-owners is im
minent. A large part of the unproduc
tive real estate of the city is mortgaged.
Foreclosure and forced sales will follow,
if tho largo amount of property liable to
he thrown on the market, uitder such
circumstances, should reduce prices
much below real value. The owner
of property free from debt is not be
yond the danger of loss from this cause,
as tho forced sale of adjoining property
establishes the market value of that not
sold.”
As a radical cure for these evils, the
Tribune recommends that the wharves,
warehouses and railroad depots of the
city, together with the various means of
transportation, be brought so near to
gether as to dispense with tho cost of
carting goods long distances through
crowded streets, and to save the goods
from exposure to injury and loss from
theft and had weather, and that busi
ness generally should bo centralized so
as to cheapen and facilitate its transac
tion.
The article closes as follows : “ Pop
ulation must be decentralized, and the
limits of the city extended to include
tho lower part of Westchester, so as to
afford cheaper homes, surrounded with
pure air and unobstructed sunlight.
Adequate means for rapid and cheap
transit, must bo provided between
homes and places of business to accom
modate both tho way and through
travel to the old and settled channels.
The means of transit must also be oaay
of access. These requisites are indis
pensable if tho lost population and past
prosperity of the city are to tie re
gained.”
A Parrot in Law.
There is nothing like a good lively
neighborhood quarrel. It excites a
cheerful spirit of emulation, and adds
incalculable value to the language by
increasing its stock of choice epithets.
It a’-o encourages a spirit of invention,
as was illustrated recently in a fejd of
this kind in Detroit, Mich. The battle
was flagging sadly, when one of the bel
ligerents brought a parrot into requisi
tion to keep up the feeling. When tho
man of tho hostile house passed the
door, the jiarrot from its position in a
front window made him uncomfortably
conspicuous by shouting, “ You thiell”
and when the woman started for a walk
she was informed with the most mortify
ing publicity that she dyed her hair.
This experiment brought matters to a
crisis at once, and tho arm of the law
was sought for an injunction upon the
parrot.
George W. Lutman a school tea ohe
at Versailles, Mo., beat Newton Todd,
one of his pupils, in such a brutal man
ner, on Friday, that his life is despaired
of. The instrument of correction used
was a hickory rod. _
A pleasant fall—to fall heir to a for
tune.
Editors and Proprietors.
NUMBER 17.
! Terrible Affray—One Man Killed and
Two Severely Wounded.
From the Memphis (Tenn.) Avalanche, Dec. 14.
From J. K. Raymond, who arrived
from below by the steamer I’hil Allin
yesterday, wo learn of a terrible affray
that occurred last week at Stewart's
Landing, near the foot ofWalnut Bend,
sixty miles below this city. A trading
lioat belonging to N. S. Cummings, who
is well and favorably known below
here, was lying at Stewart’s Landing,
and visited by three negro men near
dark, on Monday evening, the 4th inst.
The negroes pretended to want a gallon
of whiskey, and said a comrade would
soon be along with a jug. Lounging
about until some time after dark, they
went inside the store-room, found Mr.
Huymond sitting down before the coun
tea, reached over and shot him with a
pistol, the ball entering between the ear
and eye, and dropping out of his
mouth. The two others then com
menced firing on Mr. Cummings, and
another person named Hedrick, who
was near. They shot Cummings twice,
the balls passing through both should
ers, from the effects of which he died
on Friday last. Mr. Havmond, al
though badly hurt, and nearly uncon
scious, ran for a gun, and a fight at
close quarters ensued, which filled the
boat with smoke and darkness. Hed
rick, by striking one of the negroes
while in the act of firing, caused the
murdering thief to shoot himself in the
ham). The attacking fiends soon fled,
finding they wero likely to get the
worst of the fight, the result of which
was the killing ot Cummings, tho
wounding of Mr. Huymond, and also
one of the attacking darkies. Since the
trouble one of the miscreants has been
arrested, and tho others are likely to be
taken, as they are known to be still
prowling in the vicinity.
Mr. Cummings had collected some
$1,700 in money while lying at Ur. Pe
ter's landing a few days before, and it
is supposed that the negroes, getting
wind of this, formed a plan to murder
the boat’s occupants, and possess them
selves of the money. Mr. Haymond is
recovering rapidly from the effects of
his wounds.
A Child Burned to Death—Sagacity of a
Dog.
Port Jervis, (Dec. 24), Cor. N, Y. Times.
A fearful accident happened at
Huguenot, a small village on the Mon
ticello Railroad, north of this place,
Friday morning, by which a little girl, ti
years old, met a horrible death, and
her mother fatal injuries. A Mrs.
Glagior, a widow, and her daughter
Lillie, lived in the family of Mr. Levi
S. Van Etten, at Huguenet. As the
family sat down to breakfast yesterday
morning, the little girl having been left
in tho sitting room, they wero startled
by piercing shrieks. Mr. Van Etten
cnd-iithe gifa
enveloped in flames, and an English
bull-dog, belonging to Mr. Van Etten,
tearing her burning garments off her
with his paws and teeth. He had already
taken over half of her clothing off, and
it is the opinion of Mr. Van Etten that
had he been left alone he would have
saved the little girl’s life. Rut Mrs.
Glagier, crazed at the sight, rushed for
ward and clasped her child to her bos
om, and held her close, tlTus baffling
the efforts which the faithful dog made,
although singed and burned dreadfully
himself, tv tear off the burning clothing.
Mrs. Glagier could not be made to re
lease her child until her own clothing
wits on fire in many places, when the
two were torn npart, and the flames
upon the mother extinguished by the
dog tearing off her clothing, as he had
endeavored to do for the child. Tho
little girl was burned almost to a crisp.
Her screams and cries were terrible,
and she begged Mr. Van Etten to kill
her. A physician was summoned as
soon as possible, but he could render
no aid, and tho little girl lingered in the
most intense agony until 2 o'clock
Saturday morning, when she died, los
ing consciousness a tew minutes before
death. Mrs. Glagier is terribly burned,
and lies in a critical condition. Very
little hope is entertained of her recov
ery. The dog that exhibited more
than human sagacity in its efforts to
save the child, had been her constant
companion, having been raised with
her, and taught to watch over her.
Since the burial of the child occurred,
he wanders from room to room as if
searching for her, uttering a plaintive
whine expressive of his grief. Ho takes
no food, and it is believed he will pine
to death.
Tlic Red River Raft.
Having heard of the “ Great Raft” in
tho Red River ever since our geography
days, we are all apt to suppose that wo
know all about it. We are well aware
that it is a vast mass of drift-wood, com
pletely obstructing navigation at the
point where it covers the water with
its countless trunks of forest trees. We
know that the river passes under this
mass as if it were a bridge; and we may
remember that in 1833, when the raft
was one hundred and twenty-four miles
long, the general government began
the work of removing it, but alter
working at it for twenty-two years,
abandoned the attempt as impractica
ble, and confined its efforts to the open
ing up of some of the lateral channels
or bayous. We may know all this, but
still be ignorant of one of the most cu
rious characteristics of this great raft,
which is that it, unlike rafts in general,
moveß up the river against the current,
instead of down. This movement is
very slow, being but a mile or two in a
year. The explanation of this retro
grade progression of an apparently sta
tionary mass is simple enough. The
logs at the lower end of the raft are
continually broken away and carried off
by the current, while fresh drift-wood
is brought down and added to the up
per end by floods and freshets. Thus
the raft, always falling away at one end
and growing at the other, gradually
moves up the river, and it is calculated
that it has moved since* its forming
about four hundred miles. Scientific
writers have suggested the idea that
this vast mass of timber, after lying in
the old bed of the river for quite a num
ber of nges, will become a great coal
bed. But when the Red River country
becomes thickly settled this enormous
collection of drifbwood may be utilised
in some way or other; and thus incalcu
lably distant generations may be cheated
out of many a good coal fire.