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Frostburg Mining Journal.
J. B. ODER & BUG., ELEVENTH YEAR.--NUMBER 5. FROSTBURG, ALLEGANY COUNTY, MARYLAND, SATURDAY, OCTOBER I>, 1881. Miscellaneous Advertisement*. IF O R KENT. PAUL’S OPEKA HOUSE storeNrooms, —AND— ROOMS on 2d floor,suitable forOfflces Apply to TUGS. U. PAUL, Mar 11 Frostburg, Md. jTruhl, mTd7, FROSTBURG, MIX, HAS confined his practice entirely to the treatment and cure of CON SUMPTION aud all diseases of the Respi ratory system, and will positively attend to no other cases. Office hours, daily from 0 to 11 a. m. (Sundays excepted.) No books kept and cash required for medicine. Cases treated by correspon dence. Office at McNeill’s Drug Store. Aug 0-tf Notice to Stockholders. THE stockholders of tho Thomas* Mining Company (late With ers Mining Company) are hereby notified to return their certificates of stock to the Secretary without delay, and receive new certificates in accordance with tho change oi name of said company ns made by the Act of 1880, chapter 378 of the General Assembly of Maryland. JOSEPH B. THOMAS, President. Wm. H. Evans, Secretary. May 21-tf IF YOU WANT TO BUY BARGAINS IN Goto W. F. A. WOODCOCK'S, No, 83 Baltimore Street, CUMBERLAND, MD. Best Spectacles in the World / Pine Watch and Jewelry repairing a specially Apr 9-y $ I 0.00. REWARD rplIE above REWARD will be given for X POSITIVE information that will IN EVITABLY lead to the DETECTION, ARREST and CONVICTION of any par ty, or parlies, known to DEFACE, RE MOVE, or in any manner to wantonly or maliciously TAMPEI vith my Advertising Sign onrds. FRANK C. BEALL, jMammoth” Hardware, Wooden Wara and Stove Store, Lowndes & Clary’s old stand, Feb I Frostbursr. Md. EARS FORTHE MILLION . Foo Choo’s Balsam ol Shark’s Oil POSITIVELY’ Restores the Hearing, and is the only Absolute Cure for Deafness known. This Oil is extracted from a peculiar species of small While Shark, caught in tho Yellow Sea, known as darehrrodon Rondelettii. Every Chinese fisherman knows it. Its virtues as a re storative ol hearing were discovered bJa Buddhist Priest about the year 1430. Its cures were so numerous and many so seem ingly miraculous, that the remedy was officially proclaimed over the entire Empire. Its use became so universal that for over 800 years no Deafness has existed among the Chinese people. Sent, charges pre paid, at $1 per bottle. Only imported by HAYLOCK & CO., 7 Dey Street, New York. Sole Agents for America. Its virtues arc unquestionable and its cur ative character absolute, as the writer can pcisonally testify, both from experience and observation. Among the many readers of ihe Review in one part and another of the country, it Is probable that numbers arc afflicted with deafness, and to such it may be said: “Write at once to Uaylock & Co., 7 Day street, New York, enclosing |l, and you will receive by return a remedy that will enable you to hear like anybody else, and whose curative effects will be permanent. You will never regret doing so.” —Editor of Mercantile Review. (July 2-tf THE NEW BOOM H. B. Colborn & Co. Have opened a first-class line of Summer CLOTHS, CASSI MERES.TRICOS,WORSTEDS, SCOTCH CHEVIOTS and everything found m a FIRST-CLASS TAILORING ESTABLISHMENT. We don’t intend to be undersold nor wifi we allow anyone to get ahead o f us in tho STYLE OF CLOTHING wo turn out. One of the ptpprictors Is au experienced cutter and fitter and will give this department his personal supervision. Latest Styles ol’ Clothing. The famous‘"One Itudon C’nt-M --waj” a specialty. Give us a call at once and get your or ders in early. H. B. COLBORN & CO., Paul’s Building, May 14-y Frostburg' Md. Jidtect ffojetxg. A LKCio JKltow Room, Oood-moruiutf, don’t crowd ao very There’s jrooin enough for two; Keep in your mind tbirt Pvo ft right To live as well as you. You’re rich and strong, I poor and wook; But think yon 1 presume, Whon only this poor boon I ask— A little elbow room? Tie such an you, the rich aud strong; If you liad but tho will, Could give the weak a lift along, And help him up tho lull. But no—you Jostle, crowd and drivo. You storm, you fret and fume; Are you the only man alivo In want of elbow room? But thus it is on life's rough path, Self seems tho god of all; Tho strong will crush tho weak to death; Tho hig devour tho Hiuall. Far better to boa riel; nun's hound— A valet, serf or groom, Than struggle with the mass around. When we’ve no elbow l oom. Up heart 1 my hoy, don't mind tho ahocks; Up heart, aud pa.-!* along! Your Hkin will soon grow tough with knock?, Your lisuby with labor ntroug. And there’s a hand unseen to aid, A star to light the gloom— Up heart, my hoy ! nor ho afraid, Strike out for elbow room. - And when you see amid the throng A follow-toiler slip, Just give him, an you pass along, A brave and kindly grip. Let noble deeds, though poor you be, Your path hi life illume, And with true Chfistian charity Give othora elbow room. In struggling on with might and main, Au altered, bettor man, Grow wise with many a by-gono pain, And many a broken plan— Though bruised by many a luckless fal . And blinded by tho gloom, I’ll up and soon redeem it all- But give mo elbow room. JMert Jtfinj. PHILIP’S PRIDE. “You don’t seem very glad of my good fortune, Philip,” said pretty Rose Bill ion, in a disappointed tone, and with lomething like a pont of vexation on her rosy lips. “ When first tho news Same to me that Unolo George, whom t had never even seen, had died and ioft me $20,000, it j_was you of vhom I thought first of all. For--said tto myself—* poverty will no longer loparato us !’ Surely you know”—she same closer to her lover’s side, and flipped a fair little hand into his— •surely you know that what is mine is fours, Phil!” Philip Severn looked down at the lovely pleading face, and softly caressed her bright hair. “ That cannot bo, my darling,” said he, with a bitter sigh. “ A penniless, straggling artist—who scarcely earns bread and butter yet—is no match for you—loss now, now that you have this money, than before. We still must wail until fortune smiles on me, dear; until lam aide to provide a home for my wife.” Then, noting the tears that sprang to the lender oyes, and how the bright smile died. “ Don’t, discourage mo, my darling; dot I not long to claim you? Is not my life a hard nad a lonely one 7 Don’t I long lo gather my lovely Bose, aud wear her in my heuVt forever, to sweeten and brighten life? But 1 should feel likn a dependent on my wife. It would wound my pride; destroy my self-respect—we should not be happy, dear, believe mo. It is but for a little while, my darling," ho added, tenderly. “The picture on which I have bnill such hopes is almost finished, and it will —it must bring mo wealth and fame. We will not wait for tho wealth, dear; only let me see my way to success as sured, and I will come and claim youi promise to bo my precious wife.” In this hope they parted. The Acad emy would open in a few weeks, Philip told Rose, and he worked night and day to complete tho picture which was to be for him tho first step toward suc cess. If it hail depended on his exer tions alono that success would have been assured, for tho merit of the paint ing was indisputable; but alas, othei people had much to do with it—the committee that decided how the picture should bo hung had the power to eithei make or mar his fortunes, and they marred them I He walked through tho rooms, look ing around eagerly, anxiously, and for a while vainly, too. Sorely, he thought, with sickeuing disappointment and it I;w bnu i ; heart, surely there had been some strange mistake, and hie painting was not there. Ah I yes—there it was I With difficulty ho suppressed a cry of rage and anguish—there it was ; hung up on high, in an ont-of-tho-way comer, and in the worst possible light, where no one would give it any special notice, and ho himself had hardly been able to find it at all; he turned away, heart-sick and despairing; his efforts , had been nullified, his hopes were blasted, his future rained; ho went home—if his poor garret could deserve the name—and, half crazed with disap pointment, wioto to Rose: AJSf INDEPENDENT PAPER. “ I have failed. 1 refuse to bind yon to a life which can lie nothing now but poor and miserable. Failure and pov ertyjareUiad enough for myself; I will not drag you down to them. Farewell, my love, and forget one who never will forget you—either in life or death. “Philip." He thought that 'death was ’on him while he wrote. Privation—for he was very poor— hard work, suspense, excite ment, disappointment, hod done their work. As ho sealed tho letter it fell from his fingers to the floor, and his aching head dropped heavily on tho table—ho had tainted. ** # • Next morning a ccrtain.pioture dealer on Broadway received a visit from a lady. Hho asked him had he been at the exhilrition of tho night before, and had ho noticed a certain picture. Tho dealer confessed that he had not soon it. “lam not surprised at that,” said tho lady, calmly, “ for they have hung it as if to prevent its being seen. It is beau tiful, however, aud I desire to purchase it.” She banded him a cheek for a thou sand dollars. “Will you transact the business with the artist for me without suffering my name to appear? And I wish more than this. 1 want you to do what tho exhib itors have not done—bring this artist’s merit before the public properly—ex hibit my picture in your own rooms and windows, and make it known. Money is no object, Mr. Brown—if you will only buy tho picture, for me and make it famons (if you find it worthy) after ward The matter was speedily arranged. Mr. Brown agreed to do all that was required of him. He saw tho picture and pronounced it—in spite of tho dis advantages of its position—“ admi rable.” “.I’ll call upon tho artist this after noon,” said he; and so he did. “ Mr. Severn was ill,” the frowsy servant girl who admitted him informed him; “and if you’re any friend of his, missus ’ill be glad,” she added, “ for something’s got to bo done; he’s quite out of his head; a moaning aud a call ing for 1 Rose ’ — whoever she is—and there ain’t nobody to wait upon him here, poor soui, and missus talks of sending him to the hospital. If you know anything about who ‘Rose’ is, you’d bettor send her to him.” Mr. Browu made his way upstairs to tho sick man’s room. Philip lay, as tho girl had described, delirous, and tossing in fever. Mr. Brown took in all tho miserable poverty of tho room, and in a glance read the artist’s sorrowful story —he was a kind-hearted man, and it touched him. “Ho lias gone through a long and bitter struggle here,” he mused, “and the way thov hung bis picture has given him a finishing blow. Poor fellow I So gifted too; it’s a shame; and now, when fortune begins to smile on him, he’s too ill to know it. Has ho no friends, I wonder? And who is ‘ Rose?’ 1 His handsome young patroness might find that out, if I toll her his position— she seoms to bo eccentric and rich.” Jnst then his eyes fell on a letter on the floor and lie picked it up. “To Miss Bose Ellison,” he muttered, reading the address. “By Jove, tho very name!" Ho glanced at the restless figure on tho bed, and a light of sadden comprehen sion flashed into his shrewd eyes. “I fancy I've stumbled upon a very pretty little romance here," thought bo; “ I’ll deliver this letter to her myself!” Two hours later poor Philip had been removed from his garret to a large and comfortable room, and Rose was in at tendance by Ids side. For weeks she nursed him, as he hovered between life and death, until one day he slowly opened his sunken eyes and fixed them, with the light of reason in them once more, upon her face. “ Rose !" he said, oh, so faintly. “Rose—my darling I’ and Rose fell down upon her knees and thanked God, for she knew that her lover was restored to her. “ Your picture is sold,” she whispered to him, softly. “Mr. Brown, the dealer, bought it, and it is to go upon exhibition in his gallery as soon as the academy closes. And he has called at tention to it, dearest; and the papers have mentioned it with favor; and he has recommended you among his cus tomers, and has orders for you, as soon as you are well enough to work again; and, oh, Philip, you will be a great artist after all, and you must unsay those cruel words in your letter. Not ' share your life with mo I Why, to whom but to me does your life belong ? I The doctor says that my care has saved 1 it. So many terrible, anxious weeks I 1 have nursed you, and will you refuse to I marry mo after all ?” She nestled close 1 to Ids side, laughing and crying at once for love and joy. “Please say once 1 more that I shall bo your wife, my dar- I ling!" 1 Ah, how willingly he said it 1 “You i are coaxing me to my 'owp happiness 1 more than yours, my beloved,” ho said, i faintly. “ But if this bo so—if there is 1 work for me to do, so that I shall not i come to my wife a pauper—dear little ■ faithful love of mine, lot us be married at ouco!” Ami so they wore, ou the very next flay, and Mr. Brown gave the bride Hway. Ho also handed thojartiat one thousand dollars, “The price of your picture,” satd he, quietly; “and mark my words, it went too cheap; it will be worth twice that some day.” Philip turned and gave the money to his bride. “Our purse is in common hence forth,” said he. “As for my picture— God bless tho purchaser, and that is yourself, is it not ? Or if you only pur chased for another party, may I not know my benefactor’s name? for, in deed, he was to mo a benefactor." But Mr. Brown only laughed, and turned to Rose. “ Shall we tell him his patron’s name V said ho, roguishly. She came suddenly and knelt by Philip’s side, and twined her arms around his nock. “Philip, my husband,” rhe said, humbly, “ forgive mo that I was the purchaser I Mr. Brown says the picture will be worth much more some day, and even now he offers to buy it from mo, but I cannot part with it I I cannot boar that a stranger should have it, dearest I You will paint others—let them be sold, but, love, let me keep this!” Philip lay very still a little while, and then he turned and clasped and (kissed her. “ I understand,” he said, softly. " My wife, your love has conquered my pride; henceforth we will work hand in hand together!” Then he turned half timidly to Mr. Brown. “Toll me the honest truth,” said ho. “Would any ono but my wife have bought that picture?” “Notas it was hung,”said tho dealer, frankly. “It couldn’t be seen, much less bought. Bat I’ll And you pur chasers now*, if you choose, or take it at my own risk to-morrow I Here are orders for two such paintings. You wanted, my dear sir, what many an artist has wanted before yon—some one to find you out. Hero,” pointing to Rose, “ here is your discoverer I God give good luck to both of you 1” They had gooil luck, and much hap piness. Tho artist is rich to-day, and the famous “ first picture ” tluvt called tho world’s attention to ids genius hangs —in the best of ail possible positions 1 and lights-- in his fair wife’s drawing- , room. It is [worth a great deal more than a thousand dollars now, and Rose herself would not take all the. money in tho j world for it. Sitting with her children around her, she tolls them its history sometimes—the history of tho days of poverty which they have no knowledge i of, of their father’s struggle and despair | —of her own loving stratagem, and how, by love, she conquered Philip’s pride. |pglkwj. Ancient and Modern Proposals. NEW STYLE. Her eyes shone a beautiful, joyous light when ho leaned forward and said: “ Julia, I have something confidential to tell yon.” “ What is it, Augustus ?” sho asked, in a low, silvery voice—a kind of Ger man silvery voice. “ Well, Julia, to bo frank with you, I think,” —and then ho seemed to bo thinking. “I think,” ho said, “that under some circumstances I might love you. Now, do you love me T” “ Yes, Augustus, I do lovo you—you know I doand she flung hor alabaster inns around his neck. “I am very, glad, Julia,” ho said, “ for I like to be loved.” “Well, Augustus?” But Augustus never laid another word. Fashionable follows never say moie than that nowadays. They were never married. OLD STYLE. “May 1 call you Paula?” he asked modestly. “ Yes,” sho said, faintly. “ Dear Paula! may I call you that?” “ I suppose so." “ Do you know I love you ?’ “ Yes.” “ And shall I love you always?” “ If you wish to." “ And will yon lovo mo ?” Paula did not reply. “ Will you, Paula?” he repeated. “ Yon may love me,” she said again, “ But don’t you love me in return ?' “ I love you to love me.” “ Won’t you say anything more ex plicit ?” “ I would rather not," They were married and happy within tbnee months. Mokal.—Girls, never tell a fellow that you love him till he has asked you to bo his wife. —New York Sun. A Winfield (Kansas) brewer writes ; I have invested over 810,000 in my brewery, and I do not believe I coidd get 8500 for it now, on account of the prohibition law. I have 810,000 worth of beer in my vaults, and am not al lowed to sell a drop. My barley and malt cost mo ninety-five cents a bushel, but 1 cannot get fifty cents for it now. You have no idea how our people are upset by tho now law. OB THE FARM AND HOME. Death lotbr Wecdn. Don’t give the weeds a chance, but "kill,burn and destroy” at sight. If they once got tho start of the crops they will multiply and increase more rapidly than compound interest or a mortgage. The only way is to destroy thorn as soon as they make their appearance. That is tho surest method, and in fact no contrivance can possibly effectually de stroy them. By pursuing this course the crops will be free from them. It is un necessary to say that the loss every year from weeds is simply enormous. Every farmer knows that, and if that was all it would not he so bad, but they Jraw the virtue and impoverish the soil, and when once hi the ground it ia al most impossible to get rid of them. Farm and ii anion Noiem. It is advantageous to turn sheep into orchards in summer and allow them to run there until tho apples begin to ripen. Thyme will grow almost anywhere, but it prefers a dry, poor soil. If the ground is rich, the plant will grow too luxuriant and lose its aromatic qualities. Grain for eggs and soft foods for flesh is the conclusion in respect to profitable poultry keeping reached by Mr. L, Wright, tho well-known English au thority. “ Every country,” ho says, in the London Lire Stock Journal, “which gives groat attention to poultry for table adopts soft food.” A grapevine that ia overloaded with fruit should bo thinned—a portion of the bunches removed, half of them, perhaps, or oven more. This forces tho growth of the remainder and in creases the size of tho fruit and tho bunch. All badly formed and small bunches should ho clipped off, and but one bunch left on a bearing shoot. With regard to tho gait of farm horses the 1 Vfstern Agriculturist re marks that the walking gait is of all gaits the one to he encouraged. A horse can walk five miles an hour, and has done it. Such a horse is worth more than Maud S., St. Juliou and Bon ner’s team ail put together; ho would probably walk to San Francisco quicker than either of them could trot there. | An acre of good pasturage will, says a farm writer, afford sustenance for from ' five to eight sheep, keeping them in , good condition. But on account of 1 herbage taken and tho closer feeding of tho sheep it is believed that three acres of good pasturage will maintain one ! cow, and, in addition, five or six sheep’ | Tho sheep would choose plants the cow would reject, and food closer upon May weeds and grasses not eaten by the i sow. Farm and (harden Nairn. Mlik should always bo cooled before being sent to the creamery or carried away for sale. Black teeth in pigs do not cause dis ease, but are a symptom of disease. This distinction is very important. Manure from grain-fed horses, free from straw, nnexposed to weather, will weigh about 1,500 pounds per cord. Bono dust makes a good dressing for lawns. Put on plenty of it. Stable manure is often an eyesore unless very fine. Hens may lose their feathers in sum mer without having any disease. It is better to loso them theu than late in the full or early winter. Always Iqivo a place whore chickens can bo sheltered from storms and kept comfortable. It is the lack of this that kills so many chickens. Decayed grain of any kind is highly injurious to stock. It has a paralyzing effect upon the animals fed with it, oftentimes causing death. Plum trees planted in the poultry runs will bo kept free from the ravages of the curculio and will also afford the shade so necessary to fowls. Bonos kept damp in a box with ashes tor months, not wet enough to leach, will gradually crumble and form a com pound more valuable than guano. It is said that kerosene oil slightly sprinkled on tho floor of the horse stables will serve to abate the nuisance of flies. It may be shaken out of a bot tle through a hole in the cork. A pint will last a week for tho purpose. Tho better care trees get in early life the less care they need afterward. The injury theu from cuts and amputations is smaller also then than later on. Prune early; Whittier’s First Poem. The possession of the MS. of the first poem Mr. Whittier over published, loads the Portland Tratiscript to recall the young poet’s sensations when he first saw bis production in print. He whs working ono day with his uncle in repairing a stone fence by tho highway, when the postman in passing tossed to him a copy of the journal to which many weeks before ho had sent his poem. Tremblingly young Whittier opened tho paper to find tho verses ul tiio top of the first column. He was sc delighted and bpwihleiod that ho stood looking at it a long time, and is sure h did not read a word. At length hi( inolo called him back to his senses by bidding him keep at work. The Strange Lift of the Kingof Bavaria. Writing of the strange life led by King Louis of Bavaria, a French paper says: King Louis lives sad and soli tary in his beautiful palaces, in his Gothic castles, whose interior is trans formed into wonderful rooms of the eighteenth century. Ho has had sent from Paris photographs of the most beautiful rooms of the time of Louis XV. to have them copied nt his own palaces. It is astonishing that ho is not mar ried. Perhaps ho does not wish to leave to children his sad heritage, a crown of which ho is in nowise the master. Ho reads with avidity the his torians who write of the grandeur of Bavaria in the middle ages. It may bo that he has even written a mono graph on the valiant Charles Albert, crowned Kmperor of Germany in 1742, the legitimate sovereign of the empire, sustained by France and conquered by Maria Theresa. On the eve of Sadowa, Maximilian died leaving the throne to Louis 11., obliged to submit to the law of the Gorman conqueror. What he deplores, thin young king, is the de pendence of his country with his in ability to recover it. There are no feasts in his castles but a great deal of music, a music to which lie listens religiously behind the hang ings which bide him from all eyes. They say that at the representations of Wagner’s operas ho wished first to ex tinguish all the lights so os to show the scone in greater radiance. The king loves the country but de tests the day in his apartments. Wher ever ho lives ho has the shutters closed and the candelabra lighted at midday. Ho always dines alone, sumptuously and absent-mindedly, a book beside him in which he becomes so absorbed that ho forgets to eat and they take away the dishes without his having touched them. These singular repasts often last for three or four hours. His life is silence, solitude, night, study and dreaming. The king is but thirty-five, tall and well formed, the blonde head having much nobleness and charm about it. A GREAT PREMIUM LIST. The New York Weekly Express, established in 1835, is not only one of the oldest and cheapest but best of the Now York weekly family news papers. It Is now making a great and successful effort to reach a larger and more general circulation than any weekly newspaper in the United States, and to this end is offered an attractive list of substantial and valua ble premiums to single and club sub scribers. The long established repu tation and responsibility of the pub lishers who not only publish the Weekly Express, but the New York Daily Evening Express is a sufficient guarantee of the character of the pre miums offered and the good faith that will govern their distribution. Be sides the many other attractions of The Weekly Express it publishes regularly, by authority, the Brooklyn Tabernacle Sermons of the Rev. I'. DeWitt Talmage, D. D. The sub scription price, One Dollar a year, places it within the reach of all. The office of the New York Weekly Express is 23 Park Row, New York. Bituminous Coal.— Clearfield suf fers from a lack of transportation facilities, and the weekly tonnage is decreased to about thirty thousand tons; this is about three-fifths of what the district could readily dispose of. Output to October first, was I, net tons, as against 1,283,401 to current period of last season. Bituminous coals are certainly more active than they were, as the supply is less than the current de mand. Prices are somewhat improved over the'previously disorganized rates, but there is no bcom. The companies are taking care of their regular cus tomers, and the transient trade find shipments uncertain. The output for the last weak, of which we have complete returns, is reduced to the extent of one day's business-as the 26th ult., was observed through the coal regions—and from all appearances there is not much reason to expect over 600,000 tons as an average week’s work. It will need this amount steadily to the close of this year, to keep even with last year’s tonnage from this time forward. —Coal Trade Journal. The new postal law now makes the taking of a newspaper, and the refusal to pay for the same, a theft, and any person guilty of such action is liable to criminal prosecution the same as if he had stolen goods to the amount of the subscription. There are about 100,000 Shakers in the United States, exclusive of candidates on the eve of elections.— J. Emory Wetherhy, Proprietors. WHOLE NUMBER, 526. FROM TEE FAR WEST Carson, Wyomino Territory, I October 1,1881. ) To the Mining Journal : Instead of writing a host of letters, which 1 promised to certain friends around Frostburg, please allow me, terough the columns of your paper, to satiety them in regard to this place in the far West—Oarbon. I know that a great many would oome here if they had but the least en couragement from me but they will have to go to someone else for en couragement as 1 advise all to stay in Frostburg and not to think of coming here. Some people seems to have “run away’’ with the idea that this place is the great Eldorado of the west for miners, where there is no troubles or trials and everything straight-forward and clear sailiog;suoh a place 1 have never heard of for, most assuredly, did a place like that exist I would not be the last to get there. There are not the comforts of life around here there are in Frostburg; many of the working places are wet; the work is harder than in the Georges Greek coal region, and if the men in your place could get full work they would earn as much money as we do, but if, aye, there's the rub. If such was the case Frostburg would bo what Mr. McDonald, M. P., said “The coal diggers paradise of Amer ica." 1 have seen western life before and knew exactly what 1 was to ex pect before I came here. This place is not fit for any one who cannot undergo hardships, I have always been accustomed to sternly stare jade fortune in the face no matter in what shape she might appear. I passed through this place fourteen years ago; ot that time there was not a house nor shanty to be seen—it was nothing but a wild, barren, mountainous piece of land where Ihe deer and an telope roamed at large; Indians at that time were constantly making raids on the workmen on the railroad, and now, although 1 am informed there is no hostile Indians within a hundred miles of this place, yet when 1 urn out hunting a few miles from camp 1 cannot help but think of Tam O’Shanter : Wiles glowering around with prudent care lest bogles catch us unawail. This town can boast of about 800 inhabitants, one school, two stores and four saloons. There are no churches here consequently ministers are not in demand. Sundays are not respected; some of the citizens patron ize the saloons while others goto their work. A man made a re mark to me the other day that "there might be a God in the States but there is none out here" and so its seems. We have about twenty-five frame houses and a number of log shanties, dug-outs and rugged cabins of all descriptions. Board is ss.s(Tper week and a great many have to furnish their own blankets and be content to sleep on he floor. Such is life in the far West. Winter appears to have set in al ready— stern and forbidding. We bad a snow storm on the 6th of Sep tember and while I write “surely winter's howling blasts are battling against our sheltering halls" where fireside comforts, taste and gentle love with soft amenities mingle not into bliss as in and around Frostburg. You will hear from me again. James McAllister. The lower classes. Who are they ? The tolling millions, the laboring man and woman, the farmer, the mechanic, miner, and producer ? Far from it. These are nature’s nobility. No matter if they are high or low in station, rich or poor in self, Conspicu ous or humble in position, they am surely upper circles in the order of nature, whatever the factitious dis tinctions of society, fashionable or unfashionable, decree. It is not low, it is the highest duty, privilege and pleasure for the great man and high souled woman to earn what they possess, to work their own way through life. If there be a class of human being on earth who may be properly denominated low, it is that class who spend without earning, who consume without producing, and who dissipate on the earnings of their fathers and relatives. Sitting Bull is I'ortj-fonr years old, I has two wives and seven children.