Frostburg mining journal. [volume], October 16, 1880, Image 1

About Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913

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Frostburg Mining Journal.
J. B. ODER & BRO.,
TENTH YEAR.— NUMBER 5
I’fldm
c ~ j
Hot Yet.
Tbe days glide by on winged leet,
A river flowing broad and fleet;
Thy face Irom mine is turned away,
It will not bo so, dear, alway,
Thy heart would lain its love forget,
It cannot yet, dear love, not yet.
I stand outside a last-closed door,
Against me closed forevermore;
Yet parts of us neither bolt nor bar,
Who are so near and yet so far,
Oh heart that would its love lorget
And cannot yet, dear love, not yet 7
I hear thy voice, so soft and low,
And silent tears unbidden flow;
While yet its musio Alls the air,
1 pass and breathe a silent prayer.
My heart would fain its love lorget
And cannot, dear love, not yet.
One step—and 1 by thee could stand,
And touch thy dear familiar hand;
One look—and I upon thy breast
Would lean, and weary, find my rest.
Poor heart that lain would love lorget
And cannot yet, dear love, not yet.
The word —and I might raise again
My face to thine, and meet thy gaze;
And with no word thy heart should read,
That love is all a woman's need.
Dear heart, wouldst thou thy love lorget?
Thou canst not yet, dear love, not yet.
II e’er thy soul hath need ol mine,
II e’er the truth thou canst divine,
Seas will not pail, non bolt nor bar,
We shall bo near, who now are lar.
True hearts that lain would love lorget
And cannot yet, dear love, not yet.
—Boston Transcript.
After Twenty Years.
She was a pretty girl, was Jen ima —
petite—that's what I like—bright eyes,
luxuriant locks, a white and pink and
white complexion, plump and compact.
She was always in good humor, and we
soon became the very best of friends—
nay, more—for who could help being
aflcctionate toward her? Everybody
loved her. When the boatman called
her “a sweet little craft,” they ex
pressed, though vulgarly, the sentiment
of my own heart.
I was in love with 'Jemima, and
Jemima —well, Jemima was not indif
ferent to me. I had not nerve to ask
her, in so many words, would she ac
cept my hand and nameP I spoilt a
quire of paper in an effort to utter my
thoughts in a letter; so at last, on her
birthday, the fifteenth of May, I ven
tured to present her with an elegant
bonnd book, and on alittle’slip ot paper
inside 1 wrote:
Dear Jemima—By the acceptance of
this trifling gift let me know you accept
the giver.
Alfred Barnstable Daughtt.
I flattered myself it was rather a
plucky thing to do, and it answered ad
mirably.
Next time I saw her she was all of a
glow, and when we were alone together,
and I was standing rather near her, and
said:
“You received my humble offering!”
she burst into a flood of tears, put her
arms round.my neck and spoilt my shirt
front.
Then, when she recovered a little (do
you believe in Niobe? 1 don’t) she said:
“ Have you asked pa?"
Of course I responded I had not.
“Then do at once,” she said; “for
goodness gracious me, if he was to find
us out in anything sly, and trying to
keep it from him, it would be awful!”
It is a good deal worse asking the gov
ernor than asking the girl, especially
such a peppery old party sis Captain
Wattleborough; however, I screwed
myself up, and when Jemima was down
about the place playing on our organ,
and I knew ho would be making his
evening toilet by put ting on a pi lot coat.
I ventured to look in upon him. After a
few words on ordinary topics such as
how were we both, how was the
weather, I hemmed; and began: “Cap
tain I am ambitious.”
“Right, boy—climb.as high as you
can.”
“ Can’t encourage me too much, cap
tain ; I’m ambitious in your direction.”
“ Boy, you are not going to sea?”
“No, captain—l—l—l—l aspire to the
honor of being your son-in-law!”
The captain looked me fu.l in the face,
then said:
“ Have you money?”
Of course I hadn’t, and he told me to
go and get it before venturing to aspire
to the hand of Jemima.
“ But, my dear captain”—l ventured
to expostulate.
“ Get off my door-step!”
“ Let me speak for a moment to Je
mima.”
“ Get off my door-step!"
He accompanied this last instruction
by a thrust which sent me staggering
into the street.
My affair with Jemima was at an end.
The captain would not listen to reason
—that is, he would not listen to me.
All the letters I wrote to Jemima were
sent back to me. I grew weary, packed
up and packed off, with a letter of in
troduction to a firm in China. Well
the fortune was not so easy to make,
but at the expiration of twenty years 1
began to think it sufficiently large to
warrant my return to “the girl I left
behind mo.” I heard very little from
home. Father and mother were still
alive, but the captain was dead. They
had carried him through the cornfields
one summer’s day to the little church
yard and buried him there.
Jemima, I understood, lived in the
old house, and was single. So—full of
emotion, all the tenderness for the dear
girl I had left behind me rapidly re
aving—off I went, carpet-bag and
everything, just as I was, to have the
old vows renewed and sealed in the
usual manner.
FROSTBURG, ALLEGANY COUNTY, MARYLAND, SATURDAY., OCTOBER Hi, 1880.
A maiden with a freckled face, much
, sunburned, opened tbe door. Could 1
see Miss Wattleborough P Tbe maiden
| did not reply, but, leaving me where I
was, retired to the remote back settle-
I meets. Thence I heard the following
i dialogue;
“Missus !"
“ Well, what is it P"
"Somebody wants you."
"Whois it P”
“ A tat old man. with a bag.”
I could have shaken the girl into
jelly.
There was further talk in a smothered
whisper, and then the girl returned,
and, motioning me will: her finger,
■aid:
"Come in here," and showed roe into
the parlor.
The old parlor, iust as I had left it,
neat and trim, the old harpsichord, tin
old punch-bowl; but some new things—
a canary in a cage at the window, a
black long-legged cal ensconced upon
chair.
The next minute a lady entered.
Could it be? No, impossible—this pale
faced, sober-visaged lady, with stifl
curls, and no more ligure than a clock
case—could this be my Jemima?
Where was the old luster of the eyes—
where the old bloom upon the checks—
where the lips that were ruddier than
the cherry P She lifted up both hands
when she saw me.
“Alfred!”
“Jemima!”
We shook hands; after a moment’s
hesitation we went further—more in ac
cordance with old times.
My heart sank within me, however,
as I sat down opposite to her, and
thought of what she was. She looked
at me very steadily, and I thought I de
tected disappoin ment in her glance.
“ We are both changed, Jemima.”
“ You are very much altered,” she
asid.
“You are different,” I responded.
“ Do you think so?"
“ Think so ? Why, Jemima, there can’t
be two opinions about it.”
“It is not generally observed; but
you—”
“Well my dear P”
“You have grown ridiculously stout,
and sou are bald-headed.”
“You are not stout, my dear; but
your hair is not quite what it was.”
“ People say they see no change in me
—that I preserve my childish appear
once wonderfully. -
“ Humph!”
Our interview was not altogether
agreeable. When we parted we con
sented ourselves with shaking hands.
That afternoon 1 wrote to her,, sug
gesting that we did not renew our old
engagement.
That afternoon she wrote a note, sug
gesting the very same idea to me. Our
cross letters crossed.
We were to be friends, nothing more.
But that could not last. I was the
first to give in. 1 called upon her, and
said a good deal, and she cried, and then
we said why notP and then she put her
head upon my breast and spoiled my
shirt front as she had done before.
“ You are -not so very fat,” she said,
laughing.
“You are not so very lean,” I said,
laughing also.
“ You can wear a soalph,” said she.
“You can dye,” I responded.
So we both laughed again, and
all settled. Wo were settled, and here
we are out of the fog, and very much at
your service—the happiest couple in our
town.
Diary of u Dollar.
I was once sl.
Subscribed by private charity for lha
Home of the Hungry, Friendless and
Needy.
But in trying to get to the poor I have
grown very poor myself.
Thus, expense being collected 10
For salary minister in charge of
Home of the Hungry I pay 30
For rent of Home of the Hungry I
pay 10
For salary of secretary I pay OS
For prospectus and yearly report of
the Home of the Hungry I pay 0]
For getting up the yearly dinner,
celebrating the Home of the
Hungry, I pay OS
For current expenses of running the
home I pay OS
For baker’s and butcher’s bill em
ployees of the Home of the
Hungry I pay 05
For extra polish on knocker on big
front door I pay OS
For insurance and taxes on the
Home of the Hungry 1 pay OS
Total 75
Balance due in treasury Homed the
Hungry, and Needy... .35
Which may go to relievo the hungry,
friendless and needy if not otherwise
called for. —New York Graphic.
~ A Medical Testimonial.
A man in Rhode Island was cured of
a bad case of rheumatism by being
struck by lightning. He was not killed
either. Wc may now expect to see a
“testimonial ” something like this:
“Mr. Jove—Dear Sir: It is with a
grateful heart that I can recommend
your Thunder Bolts for the cure ol
rheumatism in its worst stages. For
seventeen years I was a sufferer; I lost
the use of my lower limbs, and spent
five hundred and forty-two dollar., in
medical attendance. Life became a
burden, and I prayed for death, when
one of your bolts came along, and went
right to the spot. I was knocked in
sensible, but soon recovered, and now
I am well enough to run for a political
office. Your bolts contain no mercury,
and don’t have to be well shaken befjre
taken. For sale by all druggists.”—
NorrUlown Eeraltl.
A-IST Ils ou: PITKI )E XT' PAPER.
Fashion IVotot.
Polka-dotted stockings are among the
new styles.
Short dresses are to be the rule for at
least another six months.
Jerseys will be much worn in Now
York with street suits.
Rod Surah silk is still the favorite
material for illuminating dark or sober
tinted costumes.
A silk waistband with buckle of sil
ver, mother-of-pearl or burnished steel
or with a strap, is the fashion.
Foulard handkerchiefs arc trimmed
with point dc Raguse and Languedoc
laces, and made into bows, jabots and
fichus.
Polonaises, pointed basques, skirted
basques, round waists and coat basques,
with very long tails, will all be very
fashionable this winter.
The plain skirt wills full, unloopcd I
back dmpery, which is American in
origin, is reported os gaining in favor I
I on the other side of the Atlantic.
F.laboralc coiffures are still very i
fashionable, though the close classic
Style of hairdressing, which admits ol
hut little decoration, is growing in
favor.
Princess sack dresses {for little
I people arc made with loose fronts cov
ered with tucks and insertion, while the
backs arc half fitted to the ligure and
finished with a Spanish flounce also
trimmed on the edge.
Engl'sh ladies of fash ion all follow the
fashion set by the Princess ol Wales.
They encircle their throats witli lace,
which they fasten at the side with a
slender brooch (sometimes a lizard in
diamonds) and a flower. Black blonde
is always worn by them witli white
dresses.
Some of the new colors are: Ophelia,
dnrk heliotrope; tele dc fuisau, pheas-,
ant red; lapis, false blue; rouge dc
Vonisc. tawny red, and a groat number
of metallic shades of green, blue and i
olive; while for evening wear are shades !
of glaueus, a bright marsh-grass green
and heliotrope shades.
Dresses for the evening have often tiie .
habit jacket or princcssa cuirasse hod ice |
of foulard or satin merveillone of a .lit
ferent color. One of the newest is the |
habit incroyable, open square at the,
neck with collar ot batiste with frilled
edging of satin, square basque at the i
waist and two rows of buttons, witli
fichu of plaited crepe lissc or muslin.
A very stylish street costume is made
of plain black satin, with the skirt
formed entirely of kilts. The close-fl!.-
ting bodice is trimmed witli jet and is
fastened to the skirl just beJowlhe hips.
Over tire seam which joins the waist to
the skirt is a wide sash of the satin,
whieli is knotted loosely at the left side.
The cull's to the coat sleeve are very
deep and the collar is of the “ Roi de i
Rome ” shape.
Why Wc Brag.
This is a lime when, as Americans,
we feel like doing little boasting.
One hundred and four years ago, when ■
we declared ourselves to be a free and j
independent people, our population was 1
less than 3,000,000. To-day it is 48 000,- j
000. Boston, was then an insignificant |
village, so far as population was con- j
ccrned, and New England had lint a ';
few scattering schools and two colleges.
The entire country 'had but thirty-seven
newspapers, and the best of them were
not equal to the worst weeklies printed
to-day in the mushroom towns of the
Rocky mountain region. In 1781) we
had but seventy-five postoflicca, and the
mails were carried ou horseback over
1,900 miles of road, at an expense ol
$33,000 per year. To-day we have 33,000
poslollices—and new ones arc being
established daily—and the mails are
carried over 205,000 miles of post roads. ,
at an annual expense of S 3!) 000,000.
We have nearly a quarter of a million
miles of telegraph wire. Wc have ill .-
03!) schoolhouses, 03,082 churches, 793
daily newspapers, and over 9.000 peri,
odicals of all kinds. Our farms are
valued at not less than $9 303.803 801,
our farming implements a*. 8330 878 433,
and our live stock at $1,525,370,437.
Our farm p-oduots in a single year have
brought us $3,447,538 058, and in the
same time we have paid, in farm wages,
$310,280,385. Our crops are hountilul,
yes, enormous, and our exports have
readied nearly $475,000,000 in a twelve
month. Our manufactories arc pros
perous. fn cotton goods we challenge
the world. In one year our 9'lo mills
turned out cloth enough to encircle tiie
earth twenty times, if made in one
piece, with still enough left to make
every human being a suit of clothes, and j
to furnish eacli with pieces for patch
ing.—Boston Post.
. The tone of good conversation is flow
ing or natural; it is neither heavy or
frivolous; it is learned without pedan
try, lively without noise, polished with
out equivocation. It is neither made
up of lectures nor epigrams. Those
who really converse, reason without
arguing, joke w t'lout punning, skill
fully unite wit and reason, maxims and
sallies, ingenious raillery and severe
morality. They speak of everything, in
order that every one may have some
thing to say; they do not investigate too
closely for fear of wearying; questions
arc introduced ns it by-tho-by, and are
treated with rapidity; precision leads
to elegance, each one giving ids opinion;
and supporting it with few words. No
one attacks wantonly another’s opinion;
no one supports his own obstinately.
They discuss in order to enlighten them
selves, and leave off discussing when
dispute would begin; every one pains
information, every one recreates him
self, and all go away contented; nay,
the sage himself may carry away from
what he has heard matter worthy of
silent meditation.— F. F. liomeau.
TIMELY TOPICS.
An old English miser named Rhodes,
who began making money ns a rubbish
gatherer and died in squalor, has be-1
queathed $300,090 between the Royal
Free hospital, London, and the National -
Lifeboat institution,leaving his relations
penniless. The will stands, but the j
charities have given the five next of kin
$5,250.
King Louis, of Bavaria, has induced ;
his people to consent to spending the
money they are willing to contribute to
celebrate the seven hundredth adver
sary of the Wittelsbach family to the
Bavarian throne, in laying tiie founda
tion for a grand general lund to be em
ployed in the development and promo
tion of Bavarian industries, and espe
i cially the hand-art manufactures of his
country. The contributions to this fund
already amount to 2,000,000 marks, and
j is still growing.
Two stalwart men were working at
1 night in a Chicago freight yard. Each
had a largo kerosene lamp. A quarrel
arose between them which ended in a
fight. The lamps wore used as weapons,
and were speedily broken over the
heads of the contestants. The oil ran
over them and caught lire, but neither
would let go his hold, and they con
tinued the struggle with their bodies
enveloped in a flame, until both were
disabled by burning. One died imme
diately, and the other lived only a few
hours.
Three enormous steamers intended for
the Atlantic trade are now building on
the river Clyde—one cacti for the Ca
nard, the Inman, and the Guion lines.
The Cunard liner will have a tonnage oi
7,500,"and an indicated horse-power ol
10,900. The Guion liner will be 6,500
tons and 10,000 horse-power. The In
man liner, the Cily of Rome, will be the
largest ami most powerful steamer
i afloat, excepting the Groat Eastern, bet
tonnage being 8,500, with engines oi
I 12,000 horse-power. It is expected that
these three steamers will be capable oi
attaining a speed o* seventeen knots an
hour under favorable circumstance*,
thus rendering tie voyage between Liv
erpool and New York, or vice versa,
t under seven days.
Beccntly complaints have been made
to the French an horities that oleomar
garine butter has been substituted for j
the genuine article in the asylums oi j
Paris. The Pari ■Ve el.any of Medicine j
has made viguu in investigation, under j
an order from the government. The
report of the com n i;i no is against the
use of margarine in the asylums, and
is also adverse to Us general use as a
substitute for but!or. The margarine
as originally prepared is no longer an
object of commerce, being too dear.
That which is iiulually in use is an in
dustrial product open to various frauds.
Vegetable oils are cap 'dally introduced,
and if it is easy to decide by chemical
analysis whether a given product con
sists ol butter or margarine, it is very
! difficult to affirm whether this mar
garine is pure or mixed with oils, and
vegetable oils arc known to be more
| difficult of digestion than animal fats.
| It was found to in i miserable con-
I glomerate of peanut oil, diluted milk,
and beef.
(looming Poultry.
In choosing poultry never buy a bird
that cannot lie cleansed without wash
ing. It ought to lie so cleanly picked
and drawn that a towel would be suffi
cient. Buy a chicken that has white
Uesli and pale yellow fat. In buying
tame ducks young ones are the best, and
if you lake hold of the under part of tiie
bill and can cither bend or break it tiie
duck is young. The breast being hard
and thick denotes that it is fresh and
sweet. No duck, either wild or tame, is
good unless fat. Tame ducks arc served
witli apple or cranberry sauce, witli cur
rant jelly, or manges, and frequently
witli olives stewed iu the gravy about !
five minutes before the bird is served. |
Win-, geese are young and in good con
dition their legs are soil, yellow and
rather downy; if the legs are still' and
dry they arc bid and tainted. Some
kinds of tamo birds require to be kept
a little, others ought to be eaten as soon
as possible; thus pigeons are best when 1
quite fresh and lose all taste and Davor
if they me kept; but tfirkeys require to
be hung up lor several days before they
are tender. This condition again will
vary with the age of the bird, the state :
of the weather, etc. Bui if a turkey be |
hung by four of its largest tail feathers,
. as soon as it fails upon the towel pre- {
pared to receive it. it is in prime condi- !
lion, and will then deteriorate. In other I
poultry mi excellent plan to know when
they are just at their tenderest is to judge j
by the ease witli which the feathers i
come out. Therefore when you clean
and hang a bird leave a few leathers,
and when these can be readily pulled out
the bird is as lender as it will ever be.— 1
Ears' r's Bazar.
Ingenious Sparrows.
A man in Indiana recently had a
chance to observe the ingenuity ol spar
rows which were seeking a drink ol
clear water. The clear water was too
fur away from the swampy margin of
the bank of a stream to allow them to
reach it readily, but weeds grew thickly
along the edge. Four sparrows settled
on one of these weeds, one above the !
other, and their weight bent it over
half-way to the water. A filth lighted
further up and bent it further down.
Then a sixtli settled near the end and
the whole stalk came down level witli
the surface, and they drank their fill
without any difficulty or having to
wade through the muddy margin of the ,
pond.
The Stone Lamb.
A German clergyman tells a story in I
j a very interesting book ot Ills about I
tilings which have really happened to |
, him, or which he has met witli on his
I travels. In 1865 he stood, witli a little I
band of travelers, before a beautiful
; chapel of Wertien an der Ruhr, in Gcr- i
many, waiting hr the key to be brought
! that tbe door might be unlocked for
i them to enter. While they waited they i
! saw somcihing on the ledge of the roof, !
1 whieli they found to be a carved stone !
1 lamb, and began to wonder what it
meant up there. So they asked an old
woman who was hobbling along a little \
way off if she could tell them about it,
and she replied “ Yes;” and related why
it had been placed in that strange
place.
“Many, many years ago," she said,
“where that lamb now stands, a man
was busy repairing the roof of the
chapel, who had to sit in a basket
fastened by a rope as he worked. Well,
j he was working in this manner one day
when suddenly the rope whieli held the
basket gave way and he fell down, down
from tiie great height to the ground be- ;
low. Of course every one who saw the j
dreadful accident expected that the
man would be killed; especially as the i
ground just there was covered with
sharp stones and rocks which the work
men were using for building. But, to
their great astonishment, he rose from
the ground and stood up quite unin
jured! And this was how it happened:
A poor iamb had wandered quite up to
the side of the chapel in search of the
sweet young grass which sprung up
among the stones, and the man had
fallen exactly on the soft body of this
lamb—it had saved his life; for lie had
escaped with the mere fright and with
not so much as a finger broken. But
the poor lamb was killed by his heavy
fall upon it. So, out of pure gratitude,
the man had the atone lamb carved and
set up for a lasting memento of his es- i
capo from so fearful a death, and of
what he owed to the poor lamb.”
Death by a Listless Life.
Three years ago this spring the usual
quiet of the village of Grantville,
Mass., was thrown into amazement by
the advent of Miss Barker, an occa
sional resident therein, who had wooed
and won tiie heart and hand of Mr. i
John Field, the head-waiter at Hotel 1
Ottawa, I’. Q Miss Parker, who was ,
then, and is now. possessed of about
$50,000, met Mr. Field iu his business
i capacity at the Ottawa, was attracted
! to him, and after a few days’ tarry, see- S
j ing him daily and inquiring about him, ■
love conquered all scruples. She sent
tor him, placed her heart and his sup
port lor life in his hand. The otter was |
accepted, love was reciprocal, matri- I
monial life ensued, and flowed ou easily
and merrily. Their happiness scorned (
complete, and years of glowing ease and ■
jovial glee in its full enjoyment ap- ;
peared in store for them. He was gonial, I
social, pleasant, appreciative, and on-;
joyed his new-found life witli con
stantly-increasing zest, in all whieli she j
gave her warm sympathetic encourage- j
ment, being free and full in the expendi
ture of her money; and thus each were
lovingly fond of tiie sooiely of each
other. At the time of marriage he was
apparently in the vigor of health, forty
five years of age; she a few years his
senior. This change from an active
business life to a life free from all care
and anxiety, wore upon him unheeded;
in appearance lie grew old very fast,
but lost nothing in his vigor of spirits.
Disease gradually came, and after a
short sickness, a few months ago, death ,
I called him.— Boston Traveler,
Perpetual Motion.
xn these days of mechanical wonders
it may be useful to note what the noted
scientist, “ Grove,” said on this subject.
The term perpetua. motion is used to
convey the notion of a motive machine, i
the initial force of which is restored by
the motion produced by itself, a clock,
so to speak, which winds itself up by its
own wheels and pendulum, a pump
which keeps itself going by the weight
of the water which it has raised. An
other notion, arising from a confusion
between static and dynamic forces, is
that the motion may be obtained with
out transferring force, ns by a permanent
magnet. All sound philosophers are ol
opinion that such effects are impossible;
the work done by a given force, even
1 assuming there are no such things as
friction, serial resistance, etc., could
never be more than equal to the initial
force. The theoretical limit is equili
brium. The weight raiacd'at one end ol
a lever can never, without tiie fresh ap
plication of extraneous force, raise the
opposite weight which has produced its
elevation. A force can only produce
motion when the resistance to it is less
i powerful than itself; if equal, it is equi
librium; thus, if motion be produced,
the resistance, being less than the initial
or producing force, cannot reproduce
this; lor then the weaker would conquer
the stronger force.
Rats in a Church.
The English parish church of Thirsk
has been infested with bats. Various
means have been tried to rid tiie edifice
ol the pests, but witli little success until
a short time ago, when an owl was
placed in the church. If the owl did
not destroy them lie had the effect of
compelling them to keep very close
quarters. A few months ago the bats
did damage to the pipes of the new or
gan. They entered at the wide end, and
the pipes being narrow at the bottom,
found tbcmsclvcs unable to get back.
As many as eight dead bats were found
<n a single pipe.
Tricliinic are by no means confined to ,
pork. Two French soldiers died lately
of trichinosis contracted by eating the
flesh of geese. Dr. Glendenning has de
tected the dangerous parasites in a pike
1 caught near Ostend.
Tbe Converted Pugilist.
The Rev. William Thompson, who
died in England a short time ago, spent
nearly a quarter of a century in tiie
prize ring, under the name of “ Ben
digo.” having fought twenty-four times
before ho was forty. When lie was
I converted he had three belts, including
one lor the championship. He had
served twenty-eight terms in jail for
i drunkenness and disorderly conduct,
j “ Bendigo’s ” own account of his con
' version is very curious. While in
prison he at'ended the regular religious
services every Sunday, and first had his
attention attracted by tiie minister’s
account “ of the set-to between David
and Goliah." He became so absorbed
, in hearing how “ David the little ’un
1 floored the giant and killed him,” that
he forgot where he was, and shouted
out “ Bravo ! I’m glad the little ’un
won." When begot to his cell ho began
to think seriously about what he had
heard, and could not avoid the conclu
! sion that “ somebody must have helped
j David to lick the giant. At this point
I in the narrative, “ Bendigo ” continues;
; “Well, it was as singular as though
j it was -lone on purpose. The very next
Sunday the parson preached another
i sermon, which seemed hitting at me
i harder than the one the week be
! fore. It was all about the three men
Shadrach, Mesach and Bendigo, who
were cast into tiie fiery furnaee, and
who were saved by the Lard from being
burnt. Oil, yes, I’ve heard about that
since; it wasn’t exactly Bendigo who
was the third man, but the name
sounded like it to me, and I took it as
such, though I didn’t say anything to
anybody. ‘ If one Bendigo can be saved,
why not another?’ I said to myself, and
I thought about it a great deal. Sunday
after Sunday I looked out for something
about me in the sermon, and there it
always was. After the one about the fiery
furnace came one about the twelve
! fishermen. Now, I’m a fisherman my
self. Bless you! I should .rather think
I was, one of tnc best in Eugland.
Weil, after that eamo another sermon
about the 700 left-handed men in tiie
Book of Judges; and I am a left-handed
man. Of course I am. It was that
what beat tiie knowing ones I have
I had to stand up against. Well, it
; was this always going. on that made
i me make up my mind to turn as soon as
, ever I got out.” “ Bendigo,” or Wil-
I liam Thompson, as he was thenceforth
called, made good his purpose to lead a
belter life. He began to fit himself for
a new work by learning his A B Cs, for
! his early education laid been so neglected
, that ho could not even read. He an
nounced, and carried out, his willing
! ness to spend the rest of his days on the
I platform, persuading men to embrace
' religion. When he began his ministra
tions, about six years ago, ho attracted
! grout attention, but the novelty soon
i wore off, and lie was permitted to con
tinue his labors in a quiet and efficient
way. His meetings at the start were
largely attended, especially by persons
1 of his own class, who listened w.tli rapt
j attention to his story of ins conversion
and iiis evidently sincere exhortations.
Tiie meetings were held at Cabman's
Mission hall, the Seven Dials, and at
other places in notorious neighborhoods
iu Loudon.
Convict Life.
Joe Coburn, the pugilist, is an aristo
crat. He occupies the place of “deputy’s
waiter ” A part of his duties is to ap
ply the paddle to refractory convicts.
Joe’s physical development enables him
to wield tiie instrument of correction
( with salutary effect. Coburn looks after
the office of the deputy agent, or head
keeper, but liis tusk is an easy one on
the whole. The lawyers are looked up
on as “ great men ” by the prisoners and
words from their lips find endless repe
tition among the other prisoners. Stone,
I one of the famous Canastota “fire hugs, ”
is pointed out as a “ prominent ” con
i vict. He is a keen, perceptive man, and
1 exerts a great influence over the min.
He is at present serving in the capacity
of chaplain’s waiter. King, a lawyer
from Now York, a “life man,” is shrewd
but deceitful. The prisoners respect
him, but at the same time are distrust,
fulof him. “Dan” Kelly, the bank
robber, once escaped from Auburn
prison, and is now carefully watched.
On account of his escape ho is the idol of
the convicts, although ho will have
nothing to do with them.- Si/raouse
Courier.
A correspondent of the Fancier's
Chronicle sends the following: Hollin
wood, near Manchester, was the scene
of a rather novel rat-killing match the
other day, between Mr. Benson’s fox
dog, Turk, and Mr. Low is’,monkey, for
$25. The conditions of the match were
that each one had to kill twelve rats,
and the one that finished them the
quickest to bo declared the winner. It
was agreed that Turk w; s to finish LB
i twelve rats first, which ho did, and in
good time too, many bets being made on
the dog alter he had finished them.
After a few minutes had elapsed, it now
came the monkey’s turn, and a commo
tion it caused. Time being called,
the monkey was immediately put to his
twelve rats, Mr. Lewis, his owner, at
the same time putting his hand in his
coat pocket and handing the monkey a
peculiar hammer. This was a surprise
to theoutlookers; but the monkey was
not long in getting to work with his
hammer, and once at work ho was not
long in completing tire task set before
him. You may talk about a dog being
quick at rat-killing but ho is, really not
in it witli the monkey and his hammer.
Suffice it to say, the monkey won witli
case, having time to spare at the finish.
Many persons present thought the mon
key would worry the rats in the same
way as a dog; butlheconditions said to
kill, and the monkey killed with a von
gence, and won the $35, besides a lot of
beta lor ilia owner,
Proprietors.
WHOLE NUMBER, 473
How Clay Pipes are Made.
The manufacture of the common clay
pipe is an industry of which few of oui
readers have any adequate conception
There is nothing about tire homely
‘ Irish meerschaum ” which would sug
gest tin: idea of invention or manufac
ture. True, wo see more or less of these
pipes every day, perhaps, and yet we
seldom, if over, think how they are
made. All the clay pipes used in this
country were formerly imported from
Germany, but they are now made in the
United St iles in large numbers. A Clin
ton (N. Y.) Courier correspondent has
been visiting a elay pipe manufactory at
Durhamvillo, N. Y., and gives an ac
count of the pipes, and how they, art
made. He says;
The foreman took us down cellar and
showed ns a pile of the crude elay,which
comes from New Jersey. It had the
appearance of water lime, although
more “ lumpy.” The crude clay is first
placed in a large mill and ground, by
horse power, like paint. It is then pul
in large tubs to soak until it is wanted
by tlie workmen. When thus prepared
it has the appearance of putty, though
darker in color and firmer in texture.
We then passed to the molding room,
where there were nine young men af
work, seated at tables,! where they
rolled the clay dexterously on Ihe table
with their bands until it assumed
the shape of a long roil with a large
“ nub” on one end. The men then run
a wire through the stem part and place
tlie clay, with the wire left in the stem,
into a greased mold, tlie inside of which
is the shape of llie pipe to bo made.
These molds arc sometimes ornamented,
when fancy pipes are wanted. The
molds arc now,quickly passed into a
kind of press, which is supplied witli a
small, round iron, which punches out
the clay and makes tlie “ bowl” of the
pipe. Tlie pipes in this shape are very
brittle, and arc laid aside for a day or
so to harden or season. The hands in
this factory all work by the “ piece,”
and get eighteen cents per gross for
straight stem pipes and twenty cents
for crooked. Each man will make
2,000 pipes per day, giving tlie factory a
product of 18 000 per day. When tlie
pipes are sufficiently seasoned, they are
taken t > another room, where there are
nine girls at work,who scrape the ridges
on the stem where the mold shuts to
gether. This is called “ finishing.” The
. girls get live cents per gross, and make
I good wages at that. The pipes, after
' another short seasoning, are packed
carefully in round (ire-pots, or “sag
gers,” about the size of a cheese box,
and holding two and a half gross each,
and are (lien ready for tlie kiln. The
kiln holds 131 of these saggers, and is
ligiitcd only once a week,burning twelve
hours at a time. After coming from the
kiln, they are then packed in square
boxes am l shipped by wholesale only
to all parts of the country. This firm
makes some different styles of clay
pipes, including a few varieties of red
clay.
Fall aaul Winter U’r-IW(
English jackets of light-colored cloths,
with large plush collars, culls and pock
ets, will bo the first wraps worn when
the cool days come. The largo buttons,
and the pretty linings of heliotrope, old
gold, pii.k, pale blue, or cardinal Surah,
are marked features of these jaunty
jackets. For those who prefer mantles
or cloaks, evu for undress occasions,
are plaid cloth clink-, of q lint coloring,
made with the Inverness cape that is
confined to tlie front of the garment,
ami finished witli a large velvet collar,
and i pings of velvet of contrasting
color. For dross occasions arc most dis
tingue long cloaks of black satin or bro
cade, witli plush linings of the richest
colors—old gold, cardinal or helio
trope. The trimmings are new feathei
ruches of great width, new chenille
fringes, cords witli '-pike-shaped tassels,
galloon of solid jit in massive designs,
passemi nterie collars, hoods, and quan
tities ol shirring done on the material.
Carrlge cloaks are also shown made o)
India shawls, trimmed with fringes and
passementeries that, lisolay every shade
of the rich India embroi .cry of the
shawl.— II mar.
Tin first gia la lory in America was
erected in Inti.) near Jamestown, Va.,
and the second followed in the same
colony twi ive ye n.s lab r. In 103!) some
acres of ground were grunted to glass
men in Salem Ma; a., probably the first
years of the industry which was prose
cuted there for tu ny years. The first
glass factory in Pennsylvania was built
near Philadelphia in 1083. under tlie
direction of William Penn, but it did
not prove succeislii The tiis‘ glass
factory west of the Alleghenies was set
ap by Albert Gallatin and his associates
in 1785, af New Geneva, on the Monon
gahcln river. A small factory was
established on the Ohio river, near
Pittsburg, in I7i)0, and another in 17‘.)5.
The earlier attempt failed, the later
was quite successful. In 1810 there were
twenty-two glass factories in the coun
■ try, witli an annual product valued nt
$1,0117,01)0. There arc now about live
limes ns many factories, producing
eight limes ns much glass. According
toi the returns received undei die recent
census, our Hint glass factories turn out
210,031 tons of table and other glass
ware; and the window glass works pro
duce 3,011,140 boxes. The total value
Of the pioduet is nearly $45,73 1,000.
There are many unpleasant things in
this vale of tears, but a collar witli a
button-hole large enough to stick your
head through will cause you about as
much trouble as the rest of them.
A beggar Held out Ids hand. “I
haven’t a cent,” said the gen: leman. “ I
i did not specify the coin,” responded thu
mendicant, „