New York dispatch. [volume], June 23, 1878, Page 6, Image 6

About New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899

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6
THE CAU S E OF LIBERTY.
EAINT-GEORGE BEST.
A eea-bird shrieked all night upon a lonely shore,
Wking cede Ecao from her cave;
But when the morning broke her plaintive cries no
more
Resounded o'er the listening wave.
A warrior dying nobly for his country’s good,
Engraved upon the fickle sand,
With stiffening fingers dipped in his own red life
blood,
His name, his cause, his native land.
But when the freshening tide that rose had ebbed
again,
The sandy beach was smooth as glass,
His record wholly blotted from the sight of men
Woo thitherward might chance to pass.
A soldier foremost in the battle’s smoke and glare
Fails ’neath the deadly saber-smite,
Yet finds on that red field of blood and carnage
there
Scarcely a soldier’s burial rite.
A patriot ruler laboring for the self-same cause—
The much-prized freedom of his kind —
Yields breathless in the course of years to Nature’s
Leaving—aye, tell me what—behind.
A minstrel charming nations by his gift of song,
Tne which he gave to liberty,
Sleeps yonder in a grave unnoticed by the throng
That crowned him Champion of the Free.
So pass from sight the deeds and almost of
him
Who fights for liberty and dies;
No more regarded when the time he lived grows
dim,
Than are the lonely sea-bird’s cries.
A MT OF ffiIWRIES.
BY ETTIE ROGERS.
“Did Andrew get tho.strawberrios, Al? Yos?
And what are those flowers ? I never saw any
thing half so lovely.”
With a rustling of freshly-starched pink cam
bric, and the flutter of a big, coquettish fan,
Natalia La Breton arose from her picturesque
seat among the cool shadows, and approached
her brother.
“Yes, sis, Andrew found the strawberries,
and a deal of time he has been gathering them
too, for they are very scarce hereabouts, he tells
me. The flowers I myself picked on the hillside
while I was watching the perambulations of
our good Andrew in the swale below. The rus
tics call the blossoms wild honeysuckle, but I
think among botanists they are known by an
other name. They are lovely, indeed.”
And as Algernon Le Breton spoke he fastened
a knot of the ruddy, yellow-hearted bells in
Natalia’s glossy black braids.
“They are just what I want for the vases,
Al,” declared the young lady examining them
admiringly; “and" these wild strawberries are
quite delicious. Odd, isn’t it, that Dot Audley
should have such a crazy passion for them ?”
The handsome young man laughed indul
gently.
“ I have never tried to account for the crazy
passion, or fancy or whim of a woman,” he re
plied; “ but if you would like to have a sight of
the charming villa just taken by Mrs. Audley,
come with me along this path to the other side
of the bill.”
“But we cannot carry the berries and the
flowers,” declared the young lady.
“Certainly not, sis,” said her brother; “we
will leave them here in this delightful place
where you have been sitting until we return.
They will be quite safe.”
He carefully placed the rustic basket of lus
cious wild strawberries, and the bunch of sweet
smelling blossoms in a dewy niche among the
moss and ferns, and then with his Bister went
up the shadowy path.
A long, pleasant hour passed, when by and
by the two came back.
The young lady unused to no more active ex
ertion than that required by dressmg.flirting and
gossiping, was sadly fatigued and correspond
ingly ill-humored. “Her rather handsome face
was flushed and wet with perspiration, and her
fastidiously fresh pink cambric was provokingly
Boiled and untidy.
"I might as well have climbed Mount Wash
ington in a fog, for all I have seen,” she de
clared, crossly.
“Don’t be cross, sis,” expostulated her bro
ther, gently; “I thought the walk would please
you.”
“Please me, indeed!” she, repeated peevishly.
“That is just the sort of thing a man can say
after making any amount of vexation. Did you
think a walk over stones and through briers
would please me ? Just look at me 1”
She lifted her damp, torn skirt, and displayed
a dainty kid boot stained with clay and shock
ingly rent.
The earnestness of her angry words and ges
tures was ludicrous to Algernon Le Breton, who
cared not at all for trivial discomforts.
“Don’t be absurd, Natalia,” he said, laughing
heartily. “ You have seen the pretty villa
where the wonderful queen of the fashionables
has made her Summer palace ; and if the walk
has been a bit tedious, lam sure it has not been
without a small advantage.”
“The advantage remains to be known,” the
young lady pouted.
“ Why, sis, you can say to her when you meet
her that you have seen her charming villa, aud
that you covet her nest among the roses, and
her forest bower where peace reposes, and
all that sort of thing, you know. It will help to
establish you in her royal favor, for a bit of in
direct flattery from a woman to a woman is
quite irresistable always, because it is so sin
cere, Natalia.”
“You mean insincere, you mocker,” laughed
his sister; “but, my goodness, where are the
strawberries ? O, Al I—who is that creature ?”
They had pushed aside the last low branch,
and now stood before the green nook that they
bad left an hour before.
Among the ferns and mosses, they saw a girl
ish figure lying. The recumbent form was
clothed in a short calico gown much too short
for the exquisite limbs, aud one small, pretty
foot had slipped out of on enormous heavy
shoe, that was muddily suggestive of a toilsome
tramp. The long yellow curls that half hid her
dusty face were twined with the crimson honey
suckle bells, and her dimpled cheeks and chin
were stained with the wild strawberries that
she had appropriated, as was evinced by the
empty basket that had been carelessly tossed
upon the gorgeous plaid of a huge gingham
sun-bonnet lying beside her.
In her graceful slumber, the mysterious
stranger reminded the wondering Algernon Le
Breton of some masquerading dryard, some
sprite of this lovely Lonewald, where lie had
come to spend the Summer months.
“Wake up,” cried Natalia, grasping one
shapely shoulder, aud rudely shaking the sleep
er.
The girl lazily opened two blue, dreamy eyes,
and then started to her feet with a pretty cry of
dismay.
“0!” she ejaculated; and then seeing the
curious, quizzical glance of the young man,
blushed red as a rose, and was silent.
“You have spoiled our flowers, and stolen anti
eaten our berries, you paltry, ragged thief 1”
cried Natalia, flushed with vexation and anger.
“What have you to say lor yourself?”
An odd smile mingled with the girl’s dimpling
blushes.
“I am very sorry,” answered the girl, and the
young man thought he had never heard a sweet
er voice ; “and if I had known that the straw
berries belonged to you, I should not have taken
them. I thought that the flowers and berries
had been gathered by children, perhaps, and
had been forgotten, and, as I had been search
ing for berries without success, and was very
tired and thirsty, I helped myself. lam really
sorry.”
“I dare say,” observed Natalia, dryly; “bat
that won’t bring them back. You really ought
to be punished, young woman. I have no pa
tience with a thief.”
“ 1 will pay you for them if you will say how
much they were worth to you,” asserted the
girl with a"dignity that belied her garments and
situation.
“You don’t look as if you could pay for a
night’s lodging,” returned MiesLe Breton, turn
ing scornfully away. “0, Al, isn’t it too bad?
I bad just set my hoart on having those wild
strawberries for Dot Audley to-night. The gift
would have been such a delicate compliment to
her, and I wished so much to secure her friend
ship.”
“Cantlie friendship of a woman be bought
with a pint of strawberries, sis?” queried her
brother, laughing.
“Don’t be satirical, Al,” returned the young
lady in a techy voice ; “you know the value of
first impressions as well as I do. Aud 1 have
never wished for anything so much as io know
this rich and beautilul Miss Audley, aud to be
come her friend.”
“What else, sis?”
“ How provoking you are, Al. You know we
came to Lonewald because site was coming, and
because we hoped sbo would fall iu love with
you aud marry you. We know she is wealthy ;
and if halt we have heard of her is true, she
must be accomplished aud lovely enough to
please oven you, my fastidious brother.”
“So it was with these superlatively sisterly
and amiable intentions that you coaxed mo to
come to Lonewald, was it ?” asked the young
man, disdainfully. “I am glad you have in
formed me. But allow me to assure you that this
Miss Audley, whom you or I have never seen,
must have something better than beauty or
rumes to win such a love as I mean to give a
wile, if I ever have one, Sis. A child ot that
grim hovel yonder beyond the swale, if she
were true and sweet, would be prized by me
more than the finest and fairest of Queen Dots,
who would not soil one finger of their lily hands
to ease a husband’s heartache or-—
“Cook his dinner,” interrupted Natalie, with
the shadow of a sneer on her red lips.
“She who cannot cook a dinner is not the I
one for me,” ho answered lightly. “Shall we ,
80?”
As he spoke he glanced backward, and saw I
the blushing purloiner of the flowers and her- ■
ries still standing in tho cool shadows. Some
thing—perhaps the odd tremor of her lips or |
the shy "smile of her blue eyes—recalled him.
“Nevermind about the strawberries, miss,” I
he said, gently; “Xdare say wo would all be
happy if our faults wore as insignificant as this
pardonable mistake of yours. I only wish there
had been more, as you enjoyed them.”
The girl smiled sweetly, fastened the hugo
runbonnet over her yellow curls, and vanished
like a sprite.
Straight downtho tangled path she ran, pant
ing,' softly laughing, and never pausing until
she iciuuecl tb9 utility yjli» that L«
Breton had looked upon some time before from
the woody perch on the hillside.
Into a luxurious parlor she rushed breath
lessly, and flinging herself down bn an ottoman
at the feet of unhandsome, silver-haired woman,
, laughed till the tears had washed away the
dust and berry-stains from her dimpling
cheeks.
“ Whatever has happened to amuse you so,
Dot?” asked the lady.
“Oh, the most ridiculous, the most laugha
ble thing that any one could imagine!” an
swered Miss Dorothea Audley, with another
paroxysm of infectious mirth, and when she be
-1 camo sufficiently composed she told her mother
what had occurred.
“Fancy that Natalia Le Breton bringing her
brother to Lonewald to woo and marry me, and
fancy their finding me masquerading as a sim
ple country maid, berrying, dressed in our
kitchen maid’s clothes, and taking me fora very
1 common and conscienceless sort of person.”
“ I feared something unpleasant would hap
pen,” said Mrs. Audley.
“But it has not been unpleasant,” insisted
Dot; “instead, it has been one of the most
pleasant adventures of my hfe, and the most in
structive also. I have discovered that if we
would learn the real character of a person we
must assume the humblest or most ignoble dis
guise.”
“Will you accept Miss Le Breton’s invitation
to her soiree to-night ?” asked Mrs. Audley.
“Surely I will,” answered Dot laughing; “I
would not miss the soireefor anything. 1 shall
enjoy immensely her confusion when she shall
recognize me. And I shall present her with the
finest bunch of honeysuckles aud pint of wild
strawberries that can be obtained by labor or
money.”
The Le Breton cottage was ablaze with light.
The crash of music, the glitter of jewels, and
the gleam of silken garments filled the rooms.
The soiree was a brilliant but informal affair,
and invitations bad been given to and accepted
by not a few Summer visitors to Lonewald, who
were known to the hostess and host only by
their reputation as members of the “gilt-edged”
fraternity.
The expected guests bad ail arrived, when
Mrs. and Miss Audley were announced.
Natalia and her brother were waiting to re
ceive them when they entered.
Very unlike the grotesque apparition of the
morning looked Dot Audley, as she swept into
the drawing-room in an elegant dress whose
silken folds glinted with mother-of-pearl tints,
with turquoise and pearl? on her neck and arms,
and blue violets in her lovely hair. In her dainty
jeweled hands she carried an unduly large but
exquisite basket of crimson honeysuckle bells,
and witbin them glowed, fresh aud luscious, a
“ pint of wild strawberries.”
“Allow me to recompense you for the theft of
thismornmg,” she said, roguishly, but so sweet
ly that Natalia, confused as she was, felt that
nothing invidious was intended.
The handsome face ot Miss Le Breton was
scarlet as the berries, as she took the gift of
fered with such arch gracefulness.
To express thanks would be a farce and an
absurdity. To apologize for anything she had
said in the morning would be ridiculous, for this
stately, gracious, elegant Dot evidently thought
there was nothing to be pardoned, although
there was much that might be made the subject
of pleasant raillery.
But a few minutes later Miss Le Breton drew
her guest aside.
“What can 1 say?” she asked humbly.
“ What must you think of me after hearing
what I said to my brother this morning.”
“ 1 think nothing very bad of you,” smiled
this sweet Dot; “either of us might have
thought or said worse things, I am sure.”
“You are the dearest creature I ever knew,”
declared Natalie, aud from that moment they
were friends.
And as the Summer came and passed, there
was another who echoed Miss Le Breton’s im
pulsive declaration.
That person was Natalie’s brother; and there
came a time when he knew that he loved Dot
Audley as be never could love any other wo
man.
She pleased Algernon but she puzzled him al
so; Dot puzzled him because she was always
so serenely gracious, so seemingly untouched
by his persistent but unobtrusive devotion.
Otten he almost decided never to tell her of
his affection for her, for he felt that the events
of that morning long ago might have prejudiced
her against him.
But at last he spoke manfully and earnestly,
and knew that he had won her.
Then for the first time he alluded to the time
he first saw her.
“ After all, my dear Dot,” he said, “ it seems
that I really did come to Lonewald to woo and
marry the rich and lovely Miss Audley, just as
sis wished. What could you have thought of
us?”
“I thought,” she answered :shyly, “that it
would be very easy to love the pleasant gentle
man who so kindly excused me for stealing a
pint of strawberries.”
TAKING THiTbASTILE.
A VIVID DESCRIP L ION BY HENRI
tainJj.
At the Bastlle, from ten o’clock in the morn
ing to live m the evening, July 14uh, 1789, men
fire at walls forty feet in bight, thirty feet
thick, and it is only by chance that they hit one
of the inmates. They are treated like children
whom it is wished to hurt as little as possible.
At the first demand the Governor has his guns
drawn back from the embrasures, he makes the
garrison swear that they will not lire if not at
tacked, invites the first deputation to break
fast, permits the messenger from the Hotel de
Ville to go over the waole fortress, bears sev
eral discharges without replying, and lets the
first bridge he carried without firing a shot. If
he does finally lire, it is at tho last extremity,
defense of the second bridge, and after having
warned his assailants that he is about to <£o so.
In a word, bis long suffering and patience are
excessive, agreeably to the humanitarianism of
the time.
As for the assailants, they are maddened by
the novel sensation of attack and resistance,
by the smell of powder and the excitement of
light; all they can do is to dash themselves
against the solid mass of stone, and their expe
dients are on a level with their tactics. A
brewer takes it into his head to set fire to this
block of masonry by pumping on it a mixture of
phosphorus and oil of turpentine. A young
carpenter, who has archaeological notions, pro
poses to construct a catapult. Some believe
themselves to have got possession ot the Gov
ernor’s daughter, aud are about to burn her by
way of obliging her father to yield. Others set
fire to an outstanding building full of straw,
and thus obstruct their own way.
“ The Bastdo was not taken by main force,”
said the brave Elie, eno of the assailants; “it
rendered itself up even before it was attacked.”
It capitulated on the promiso that no one
should be injured. The garrison, only too well
secured, had no longer the heart to fire in safe
ty on living bodies, and on the other hand it
was disconcerted by the sight of the immense
crowd. Only 800 or 900. men were attacking it,
the most part of them workmen or shopkeep
ers of the district, tailors, smiths, mercers,
vintners, with an admixture of Gardes Fran
caises. But the Place de la Bastille and all tho
surrounding streets were thronged with the cu
rious who came to look on the spectacle; among
them, says an eye-witness, “ a number of well
oressed and fashionable wortieh who bad left
their carriages at a little distance.” From the
top of the parapets, it seemed to the 120 com
posing the garrison as though the whole of Pa
ris were marching against them. Thus it is
they themselves who let down the drawbridge
and introduce the enemy.
All alike have lost their head, besieged as
well as besiegers, hut the last most completely,
because they are intoxicated by victory. As
soon as they enter they begin breaking every
thing, and the latest comers fire at random on
the first: “every one fires without taking no
tice where or on whom the fire fells.” Tne be
coming suddenly omnipotent and having license
to kill is too strong a potion for human nature .
—vertigo follows, men see red, and their delir
ium ends m ferocity.
u STOLE HIS WIFE.”
A FLORIDA INDIAN OUTWITS A
DARKEY.
(Correspondence Cincinnati Commercial)
We had not bad much luck. In fact we were |
hunting tor bear, and it promised to be a bare !
hunt; but an Indian in his gewgaws had come I
into camp a few days ago with a iresh bear
skin, and added a curious story of a buffalo I
having been killed in that vicinity lately. To
such of us who knew tho former story "of the j
game of tne Stats it was quite interesting, but I
the guide looked sourly on, aud said, after the i
native left:
“ You bet that buffalo had a brand onto him.”
“You think it was somebody’s cow?” said
one of us.
“ I guess when you size it you’ll find it wore
a cow’s jacket,” said tne guide. “I know that
Injui. He stole his wife, dern him.”
“Stole his wife,” cried several.
“ Yes. Taint such a bad story, nyther. It
was slavery times, and old Judge 'had a
plan cation beyant ®cala, and a big nigger (Joe)
woodcutter, and the like. He had a likely yalla
gal, and this lujin hankered for her. But the
old colonel wouldn’t hare no such nonsense. If
the redskin got her the two mought steal half
the niggers on the place 1 so he Towed to big
Joe he mought have the gal. Joe could rastle
with Mr. Injun, aad as for the gal 1 guess she
liked plantation grease better’n a wigwam.
Night of marry in’ come, and big Ben. he ’lowed
to go down to the Ocklewaha and take a wash—
jist once.
| “He put his new duds on a log and crop’ out
lon toe oend and let hisseif down, mighty
. skoecod for ’gators, I guess. ’Gators like mg
| ger pork ; aud so do b’ar. Yes, sir, so do b’ar ;
' for presently Joe hoern a low growl like, and
j sort o’ riz hisself by the log ; and there were a
1 big black b’ar, asittin’ on his hinder eend, like a
dog, an’ jest a rippin’ at then! new dude o’
I his’n. Mighty hard lines for nigger, you bet; a
i January night in the Ocklewaha, frost a cornin’
on, an’ a dera bar a tryin’ on Ins warm duds
tother eend o’ the log, an’ the bar had the right
eond o’ the log, too. He jae’ lay in soak a shiv
erin’ an’ a prayin’ betwixt ’gator an* bar, till
moonrise, an’ as soon as the coast were clar
shinned out quicker. But he couldn’t find no
clothes, no whar. He had to git up an git, jes’
as be was, an’ sneak in somehow.
“Weil, sir, that warn’t no weddin, for there
wara’t go gal; aa’ it iiws a moatU ’foje it corns
NEW YORK DISPATCH, JUNE 23, 1878
out how that dern Injin done dressed hisself in
a bar skin an’ pinted tho nigger, like that hound
• slut mout, an’ stole his clothes, an’ his gal, too.
. Whether she went willin’ or not, nobody knows ;
but she stayed ; an’ big Joe didn’t git her, nor
» the colonel, nyther, you bet.”
: THE SMUGGLER’S BRIBE.
: A Story of Old Times in En
gland.
. “Whist! whist! Alice,” said a lovely voice,
i through the sweotbriar hedge which enclosed a
. neat white cottage, on the confines of the New
. Forest, as a fair girl with a basket on her arm
• was tripping along tho road that led to the vil
lage. “John Barker came ashore last night,
and he has landed all his cargo; and he’s going
to sup with father presently, to settle his ac
counts, and to tell him bow he can ‘run’the
i brandy when the Saucy Sally comes in.”
“Barker may sup where be pleases for me,”
said Alice, in an accent of coquettish pique
which was more than half assumed ; “ and I
beg, Mary, that you will not mention my name
to him.”
“Pooh—nonsense'.’’—laughed Mary; “why,
Barker has brought home a shawl, and a pair
of ear-rings to give to somebody or other—you
know best who it is—and I have got them to
take eare of. You must not bear malice so long
against him tor dancing with Mary Davis. If
Barker loved me ”
“I dare say he does,” retorted Alice. “I
suppose he’ll love all the girls in the village in
turn, from Miss Willmot at the great house, to
hump-backed Susan tho knife-grinder’s daugh
ter ; not to mention the other sweethearts he
may have got over the seas.”
“Now you know you don’t believe one word
of what you are saying,” exclaimed Mary.
“No, you know you don’t, Alice,” said a sub
dued but manly voice; and the angry beauty
started and binshed, and smiled and frowned,
all at once, as sheturnedin the direction whence
the sounds came, and saw John Barker. He
was a fine young fellow, with that peculiarly in
dependent swagger and careless foppery so char
acteristic of the class ot men to which ho be
longed; his bright and merry eye, and his sin
gularly fine teeth, gave an air of animation to
his countenance; while bis manly look and sun
burnt brow completed the picture of a very
good specimen of the half-rustic, half-marine
beau.
The two girls looked for a moment confused
and flurried; but Alice instantly resumed her
pretty pout, and Mary’s blush gave way to an
arch smiie as she glanced at her oompanion.
“And so you are going to send me on a cruise
through the village, eh, Allee ?” said the in
truder; “and part of the time in an ill-built
craft that would disgrace a Jack Frenchman ?
Well, well, many a safe voyage has been made
in an ugly vessel; and if so be she stands a
storm better than a tighter trimmed ship, why,
perhaps ’tis better for her owner in the long
run; but as for the outlandish barks you say I
have taken in tow, why, as sure as my name’s
Jaek—and I think you won’t dispute that—l
wouldn’t trust a cargo in one of them, though I
knew I was sure to ’run’ it the instant I got
into port, without one gripe from the sharks.
No, no, give me a bit of British oak, and I’ll
stand by her to the last; but I wouldn’t venture
my neck in a foreign craft, to be made a captain
arid owner of all toe tea and- brandy iu her
hold.” i
"Ay, it’s all mighty fine talking,” said the
girl.
“ Come, come, Alice,” retorted the smuggler;
“ remember I’ve been afloat since I was at the
fair with May Davis; and you were angry enough
in all conscience when we parted. I thought of
your last look when we wore in a squall off Cux
haven, and—no, you need not be in a fuss, I’m
not going to swear—hang me I if I didn’t tniuk
the storm was the pleasantest of the two.”
“I dare say you did,” assented his sweet
heart.
“Well, all I can say is, and I’ll bo banged if it
isn’t the truth, I never thought of May Davis
since I went out of port, except once, when I
was going ashore in a boat, and happened to
catch a sight, as I passed under the bow of the
craft, of the red nose on her figure-bead; aud
I’ve called her the May Davis ever since.”
“For shame, Barker!” laughed both the girls
at once.
“ But where are you bound now, Alice ? Can’t
you cast anchor here elose beside Mary? You
know I shall be off again as soon as the Fly-by-
Night is re-victualed.”
“Ab, yours is a sad life, Barker,” said Alice,
more kindly than she had yet spoken.
“Why, as to that—but come in, girls, come
in; 1 want to show you part of my cargo,” and
taking Alice’s basket from her arm, he half led,
half dragged her into the cottage.
When they entered the large, square, stone
floored room, which served alike for kitchen
and parlor, the light-hearted smuggler drew
from a sea-chest, which stood in one corner,
the foreign shawl mentioned by Mary. With
the usual thoughtless profusion of a sailor,
Barker had looked rather to the cost than to
the consistency of the present, and the blue
eyes of the relenting Alice sparkled with delight
as he threw it over her shoulders.
“I wonder what May Davis will say to this?”
burst involuntarily from her.
“Say to it!” echoed Barker. “Why, she’ll
say that a tighter craft never spread a new sail,
and that the hand that shook out the reefs in it
wouldn’t set a rag of canvas for Azr if he saw
her standing before a fair wind under bare
poles—that’s what she’ll say, if she speaks
truth.”
“Poor May Davis! I am sure her cheeks
burn,” said Mary, simply.
“Dp you know that 1 have got a new lover,
John Barker ?” smiled Alice, as she glanced at
the smuggler. “Ay, and one that’s steady aud
sober, and weH-to-do in the world; none of your
Fly-by-Night, salt-water, here to-day and away
to-morrow people. Mary will tell you that I
may be made a great lady of, if I’ve the will to •
be one.”
For the first time the bright eye of Barker
clouded for an instant; but he soon resumed
bis good humor, and laughingly demanded tne
name and calling of bis now rival.
“Old John Jarvis, the revenue officer!” ex
claimed the girls simultaneously, with a loud
burst of merriment, in which the young smug
gler joined. “He uas been at father’s three
times this last week,” continued Alice : "the
first time be sat down on the hair trunk under
tho clock, on seven coses of cigars ; the second
time he took a place on my mother’s easy ehair,
and leaned back against three pieces of Lyons
silk, and twelve lengths of Y'aleaoiennes lace ;
and the third time he stood talking against the
oven door, when it was full of brandy and to
bacco.”
Another burst of laughter terminated the '
speech. Suddenly Barker became grave, very
grave, as though some thought had strueir him,
and be asked anxiously, “Have you bid the
land-shark clear out of port, Alice ? or hasn’t
he shown his colors yet ?”-
“I’ve been careful not to let him speak out,”
replied the conscious beauty; “for rather had '
the house full ot goods, and we’ve been afraid i
of affronting him ; or else ” i
“Then all’s right.” said Barker, rubbing bis
hands joyously ; " all’s right, and we’ll save
every keg in the Saucy Sally I”
“ Why, what has Master Jarvis’s love for Alice
got to do with the Saucy Sally ?” asked Mary. ’
Barker looked provokingly mysterious ; "but .
just at this moment the heavy tread of Mary’s
father was heard in the little garden, and iu a 1
moment after he entered toe cottage.
“We must keep a sharp look-out aloft, Bar- i
her,” said the old smuggler as soon as he had i
closed tho door ; “ the Saucy Sally is off the i
point, for she’s shown her signal; she’s square
rigged tins trip, and has mounted a yellow rib
bon, but it’s her, safe enough."
“ Let her come,” replied the young mau, with
a smile; “we’re ready for her.”
“Why, I’m not so sure of that,” said the old '
smuggler; “ there’s that old shark, Jarvis, tack
ing about—and I believe when that fellow was
rigged they mounted eyes all round him.”
“Never mind; if he’d as many eyes as a sev
enty-four has teeth we can close all his port
holes,” said Barker, confidently.
“You’re a fine fellow, Jack; but Pm afraid
you’re on the wrong tack.”
“Well, well, give her a fair breeze, and I’ll
shake out her mainsail,” was the confident re
ply. “ When do you think she’ll bring to ?”
“ Some time to-night; but there’s such a moon
that we might as well expect to run the stuff by
candlelight."
“Bear a hand with the supper, Mary,” said
Barker; “we must be all hands on deck by toe
second watch; aud while Mary is serving out
the mess, you come with me, Alice, and bang
. out a smarter pennant; you won’t be five min
utes rigging, and we shall be back in tirao.”
The old man smiled as the lovers left the cot
| tage, bidding his daughter hasten the meal;
i and accordingly Mary moved briskly about the
apartment, making tne necessary preparations.
In a short time Alice and Barker returned, and
there was a roguish sparkle in the eye of the
girl and a quiet humor in that ot her compan
ion, which did not fail to awaken tne curiosity
of their young hostess. A significant glance
from Alice toward toe father ot Mary succeeded
in suppressing the question which was rising to
his lips; and in ha.ste and almost silence they
partook of tho homely but substantial fare which
was spread on the cottage table. During the '
meal Mary, with true feminine quick-sighted- j
ness, did not tail to remark that, short as the i
absence of her friend lead been, she had never
theless found time to re-arrange the long bright '
curls which clustered about her forehead, and
put on a clean apron and neckerchief.
As soon as supper was over, toe two men I
rose and left toe cottage; Barker, as he did so,
giving a significant glance at Ahoe, and saying i
half gayly aud half emphatically, “Remember
—leave toe bolt undrawn, and listen for the ;
three knocks.” Alios nodded a reply, and tho !
girls were left alone.
“ Mary," said her companion, as soon as she i
heard toe garden-wicket fallback, “in halt an
hour we shall bare a visitor. I could not invite
him to our own house; for, as I have no one ,
' with me but my sick mother, who cannot come I
] out of her room, it would not have been woman- 1
ly, particularly as ha is a lover.”
' “A lover, Alice?” exclaimed Mary.
“Yes, Mary,’’ said the girl, looking down and
I affecting to blush; “the truth must be told—a
I lover—no other tlisn Mi'. John Jarvis. He is a
. j king’s officer, you know; and it may be the
means of saving my father many a bale of
i goods.”
“You must be joking, Alice,” said Mary, in
a tone which proved that she was to too full
i as indignant as she was surprised.; “ you never
i j would behJYC gg iU to John Barker,”
“Well, Mary,”replied her companion; “I’ll
promise never to bring him here again—only
don’t be angry with me this once;” and so say
ing, t® Mary’s astonishment, and without wait
ing for a reply, she opened the door in the rear
of the house, and, after looking up at the moon
for a couple of seconds, drew tho door close
alter her, and sat down beside the fire.
In less than halt an hour a knock at the
door announced the arrival of Jarvis, and Alics
uttered a “ Como in,” in her most courteous
tone. The visitor entered with a simper of self
gratulation on his lips, turning his lack-lustre
eyes on Alice; and, in sooth, however quick
those eyes might be in discovering a smuggler,
it was evident that they were not brilliant
enough to win a lady’s heart. He was a corpu
lent, elderly man, with a red woollen night-cap
and top boots; quite conscious of bis import
ance as a king’s officer, and no whit modest on
the subject of his personal attractions.
Mary was lost in amazement at the half-kind,
halt-coquetish manner in which her hitherto
very prudent friend and companion at the same
time encouraged and repelled the attentions of
tho enamored revenue officer; now she saw a
blush gather on her brow, and now a smile, half
joyous and half mischievous, settle on her lip.
Twice Jarvis rose to go; and in truth Mary
thought it was time, for it was getting very
late, and she heartily wished the corpulent sup
pressor of free trade safe at homo : but, to her
amazement and displeasure, Alice pressed him
to stay “ a little, only a little longer,” so earn
estly and so tenderly that ho must have been
much less tho lover than he really was had he
not complied.
Mary began to fool uneasy and unhappy; she
knew that her father would be very angry should
be return at that late hour and find their guest
still with them—added to which she was anx
ious to learn how affairs wore going on out of
doors, and it was impossible for hor to gain any
intormatron while the revenue officer was in too
house. She had just made up her mind to ex
plain to Jarvis that she could not suffer him to
remain longer whore be then was, and she was
too more strongly urged to this resolution by
seeing the coquetish manner iu which Alice was
evading a reply to his question of whether she
would definitely receive him as her suitor, half
seeming to consent by her smiles, and yet de
laying to comply in words, when she fancied
that she heard some one stealthily enter tho
house by tho door opening into the garden.
A fear of the consequences which might re
sult to her father and his associates from tho
presence of Jarvis, made her heart beat, and
she had bent slightly forward to listen more at
tentively, when throe distinct strokes, as if
given by a heavy hand, met dor ear. lire she
could guess at tho meaning of these singular
and unexpected sounds, Alice started from her
seat, and folding her hands demurely across
her chest, she dropped a deep curtsey to her
bewildered lover, and said :
“You may go home now, Mr. Jarvis, and ex
change your red night-cap tor a white one, for
the Saucy Sally has ‘run ’ her cargo.”
To attempt a description of tho rage of Jar
vis were vain indeed ; as he threw himself back
in his chair in a paroxysm of blended mortifica
tion aud disappointment, he kicnod over tho
low stool from which Mary had just risen ; and
with clenched bands, and eyes that really for
once in his life did flash, he enrsed all tho smug
glers in general, and the Saucy Sally in particu
lar; nay, I am not sure that the rosy-lipped,
fair-haired Allee did not come in for a share of
the maledictions which ho so liberally dealt
forth.
Meanwhile the girls stood dose together on
the other sido of toe wide firo-place, enjoying
with suppressed merriment his violent and un
governable passion; and, after a tow minutes
spent in storming at bis ill-luck and Alice’s
craftiness, be started from his seat and rushed
out ot the cottage.
As tho baffled revenue officer disappeared
through one door, John Barker sprang into tho
room by tho other, and running up to Alice, be
stowed on her a hearty kiss as he exclaimed:
“Bravely done, bravely done, my lily-browed
shipmate! By Jingo! it was worth all the car
go we landed, to get a glimpse of the laud
shark when he found that he had Let a victualed
craft pass him by and had been swimming in
the wake of an empty hulk.”
“Bravely done, indeed,” said Mary; “but
why was 1 not lot into the secret ?”
“Because,” smiled Alice, “you would have
looked too happy and conscious; or else you
would have got frightened, and spoiled all; and
beside, Mary,” and she blushed crimson, “you
hate deceit, and one hypocrite was enough.
Barker had seen Jarvis walking in front of our
cottage, so be knew that I was sure to meet
him, and he would be sure on his side to tease
me as usual to let him spend an hour with me.
I was afraid of flurrying mother, as she’s not
well, and so I told biin to come here—aud now
you know all.”
“And so do I,” said the old smuggler, as he
entered with a broad grin on his face, “for
Jack put me on the right tack as wo bore down
on the craft. You are a brave girl, Alice, and
deserve to have a free-trader for your husband:
and the sooner the bettor. Only le; me know
when yon and Jack are to set sail together, and
I’ll give you a weddmg-gown out of whichever
ot the bales you like best that we’ve landed
from the Saucy Sally.”
MERRY TRIFLES.
Thoss who Don’t Want to Smile, Shouldn’t
Read Them.
(From the Burlington Hawk-Eye.)
Bets are luxuries (from lux, light.
Hence it is so easy for a man to l>uoem.)
A dog with the hydrophobia will not
drink pure country milk, after it has been car
ried six miles in a milk can.
The other day a pickpocket died of
starvation in Quincy. It is fe.red the poor fel
low had been “ working ” an editorial conven
tion.
A long-suffering collector, who had
been kicked down five different flights of stairs,
went back to the house and gloomily reported
that “collections were very brisk, but thin.”
When Myra Clark Gaines sees a man
pick up anything m the streets she shouts
“Halves 1” pounces on to him, and he is lucky
if he gets away with enough of his treasure
trove to remember it by.
There is nothing like looking a long
ways ahead, to be prepared for the" rush. A
West Hill church, with an eye to the festival
season next Winter, has already contracted tor
eleven oysters, to be delivered in December.
It tak-s a drug clerk of broad judgment
and liberal views, and a calm, statesman-like
control of bis'features, to knowhow to give a
citizen the right kind of syrup in his soda water
when the citizen’s wife says she will take the
same as her husband.
The Congress has assembled, and ths
Russian army has renewed those movements
which are so well calculated to assure peace.
The Czar is vary like Buck Fanshaw—ho will
have peace if ho has to clean out the whole
ranche to bring it about.
It has never been explained why the
confidential man, who never can talk unless he
tickles your ear with bis mustache, always has
a bad breath. Nature has evidently a mus
tache here. That kind of a man should have a
voica like a fog-horn, so that he couldn’t bo
confidential if he tried.
A South Hill couple recently moved out
of a house in which they had had"thirteen chil
dren. And when tho owner of the house tore it
down aud graded the lot for the purpose of put
ting up a fine building, the workmen excavated
three tons ot pins.
The Bannock Indians read with great
rejoicing the account of the commencement
exercises at West Point, but were heart-broken
to learn that all but two or throe members of
the class would engage in mercantile business,
and sell soap and caudles and tar and onions
and calico,
CHANCES.
Only last week, at Lansing town,
Au old crow died; ’twas a circus bird;
And all the jokes 01 clown alter clown,
For one hundred years this crow had heard.
The teut went up, and the tent came down,
Aud a thousand jokes were the same as one;
And the newest jokes by the latest elewn,
Wore old to the crow when they first begun.
A marked change is noticeable in the
manner and habits of tho horsefly this season.
It is no larger than the company of last Sam
mer, but its appetite is less voracious and its
tastes more capricious, and it is rather noc
! turnal in its habits, and would rather crawl
' over a sleeping human’s face by the dim, re
ligious light of a night lamp, and pretend to be
a mosquito, than arown m the softest plate of
butter with which you can tempt iu
It is ell the rage to talk about it just
now. Men who get up at 8:00 A. M., breakfast
at 9:30, sit down in a quiet room and write with
out once looixiug off the paper till 2:00 o’clock;
then read till 6:00; write all these long and in
teresting articles on “Phj’aical Culture,” “The
Value of Athletic Exercises,” the “ Necessities
of Out-Door Recreation,” etc. There is noth
' ing like knowing how these things ought to be
; done®
Doesn’t it beat anything ? There used
j to be three standing paragraphs iu the cable
I dispatches that “the pope was dying;” “the
j pope was dead;* “the pope was better.” And
i now, when there is a brand new pope, the very
' first thing he does is to resurrect these stand
j mg paragraphs about good old Pio Nono, and
j we learn, in one dispatch, that “ the pope’s
i health is failing,” “anybody that says it is, is a
i liar;” that he “ had a protracted fainting fit,”
j and that “his health is excellent.*
MUSIC.
1 •* Music hath charms to sooth the savage breast,
To calm the troubled soul with dreams of peace,
To fill the weaned life with pleasant rest,
| And make the discords of our being cease.”
He spake, and paused amid the living stream
Of people on the street in ceaseless flow,
And watched, as in a tranquil noonday dream,
Four Irishmen unload the piano.
And more he sarcg; be said, “Oh, land alive!
Oil, murder, murder! fire! police! Oh, dear!
Oh; ow! Oh, mother! Doctor! doctor! Help!
Oh, blessed Martha! Goodness, gracious me!”
No more he said; in time the doctor came,
The mad crowd surged and eddied down the
street;
A music teacher, no one knew his name,
Caught a leg on both his ieet.
ENDLESS GOLD.
tZ How Young Brown Played It on His
ir Girl’s Old Man.
Brown always declared that he would marry
an heiress, but being next door to penniless
, e himself, his friends didn’t quite believe him,
.q though ho had never been known to tell an un
is truth. One evening, at a political meeting, he
made the acquaintance of a great cotton lord,
■a Sir Calico Twill, and happening to say “hoar,
hear,” in the right place several times while Sir
r Calico was speaking, tho old gentleman took a
fancy to him and asked him home to supper,
j. There he met with his host’s daughter, a
n charming young lady with eight thousand a
t . year, fell desperately in love with her, popped
, n the question in the conservatory, and was re
ferred to her papa.
j “Before I take tho matter into considera
■ri tion,” said Sir Calico, when Brown had stated
,0 his case, “you must answer me one question,
if What is your fortune ?”
a “ Well, I don’t exactly know,” answered
if Brown, being uncertain whether that was a
i threepenny or a fom'peany under his tobacco
y jar at homo; “but let your daughter become
L my wife, and I promise that she shall have end
less gold.”
, r “ Endless gold is rather an exaggeration,
a eh ?” remarked Sir Calico.
i_ “Scarcely iu my caao,” said Brown, “as my
wife and 1, be as extravagant as wo might,
e should never be able to get through it.”
“ Are you telling the truth ?”
e “ The truth, I swear it 1”
q “Then take her, my boy,” said Sir Calico,
t grasping Brown’s band, “ and happy lam that
. my child has been saved from the clutches of
f rogues and fortune-hnnters.”
y Well, they were married, and Brown made the
0 money fly at such a rate that when bis wife’s
. milliner’s came in he was obliged to confess
3 himself stumped. Mrs. B. immediately sent for
3 her papa.
? “What’s this?” eaid Sir Calico. “Stumped?
a What do you mean, sir ? Where’s the endless
3 gold you promised, eh ?”
f "Tvo kept my promise.” answered Brown.
“ Kept it 1” said his father-in-law, beginning
I to lose bis temper. “Kept your promise, and
o can’t find the money to pay a paltry milliner’s
bill. Why—you—you ”
“ Calm yourself, old boy,” interrupted Brown.
a “I promised to give your"daughter endless gold,
1 which both of us, be as extravagant as we
. might, should never be able to get through,
f Was it not so?”
a “Yes, and you ”
r “Don’t fluster yourself now. I’ve kept my
r promise.”
s “ How ?”
r “ Why, I gave her a wedding-ring—that’s end
less gold, isn’t it ? And, my dear,” added Brown.
- turnmg to his wife, “do you think that both of
r us could ever get through anything which only
just fits one of those taper fingers 1”
“ Sir Calico looked as if be was going to have
X a fit, but a timely remark of his daughter’s prob-
- ably averted the catastrophe.
3 “Well, papa.” she said, “ there’s still one thing
L in our favor. No one can say I’ve got a foot
r for a husband.”
So the storm blew over, and now Brown and
. his wife, though they do have to manage on
eight thousand a year, are the happiest couple
f in the two hemispheres.
t
i THE MAN WHO PUNS.
: A CANDIDATE EOR SHOT-GUN
i ER AO LICE.
i
I (From the Burlington Hawk-Eye.)
“Alcestis” wants to know if it is very diffi
-1 cult to manufacture puns. Not a bit of it; the
3 easiest thing in the world. For instance : you
■ arc challenged to make a pun on Eau de Co
logne. You immediately create a hypothetical
1 being, who for tho purposes ot the necessary
■ vernacular, shall be African as to bis nativity,
■ whom you suppose, tor reasons, has borrowed
1 in the bleak and impecunious Winter days, a
1 scuttle ot coal of a wealthier neighbor, and
which be is, unfortunately (for the mau of whom
t he borrowed it), unable to repay, and bonce,
with tho return of the ensuing Winter, wtieu
5 the creditor insists upon toe payment of the
1 debt, is compelled to explain that circumstan
-1 ees over which be tuis no control, still neoesst
i tats him to “owe de coal loan..’ When you
• reach this point of your narrative, you must
’ look fixedly and shrewdly at your auditor (for
t by that time you will have but one left, if your
3 associates are as sensible people as we assume
• them to be), and say. with marked aaid ehaug
t ing emphasis : “See? Seo? Coal; ooal loan;
f co-logne;—ow de—owe do coal loan ; eau de
cologne ; sed? de cologne ; de coal loan ; coal
3 loan ; owo de coal loan. There is no limit to
r the number of repetitions you are expected or
i required to make of the explanatory clause.
I Most punsters repeat it about one hundred and
: ninety-eight times. We have a friend who is a
v gifted punster, and he deesn’t often get through
1 repeating the explanatory clauses until about
r the last of next week. His wit is greatly ad
l mired at quiet gatherings of literary people,
although the records show that he has been
clubbed off of Main street at different times by
every business man in Burlington.
You can shine most brightly at little evening
. parties by punning on the names of the people
f present. A lew evenings ago we heard a very
brilliant thing by a young gentleman who is a
light in society. He was introduced to a Miss
Smith, and with a sadden inspiration of genius
that even astonished bis most intimate friends,
• he affected a lisp aud said :
“Ob, this is a Mith Smith, is Mith Smith ;
f she is Mito Smith; ’s Mith Smith ; ’s Mith
Smith.”
He began that about nine o’clock, and went
through and through the rooms, cornering peo
f pie who were afraid to kill him, and saying it
- to them. At halt-past eleven the last guest
- departed, aud heard, ss ho was going out of the
gate, this young man telling tins pun to the
i hostess, while the servant girl was at tho head
1 of tho stairs trying to hold back the'host, who
1 was trying to get down stealthily and unob
-1 served "witn the shot-gun.
Always make puns on passing events. Fairs,
1 county fairs or church fairs, ere splendid sub
s jects for original puns. So are sates. We knew
y a young man, a graduate of an Ann Arbor mil
a liuery establishment, who would walk about tho
streets for days, until he found a gang of men
hoisting a safe into a second story office, and
then he would stand around that spot so long
*■ as the wora went on, aud stop every man who
1 went by, or rather tried to got by, and say to
r him:
“This is safe, but it isn’t very safe. They’ll
t get it in safe, you know. Safe; safe, soe ? Safe ?
a safe. It’s eate; safe, you know. See? safe. It’s
i safe; but it's not safe to stand under it. Soe ?
r It isn’t safe, you know, and it is safe. See?"
3 One time a large safe, weighing fourteen thou
sand pounds, which was being hoisted into a
sixth story window, broke the tackling and fell
3 to the ground, missing this young man by only
3 about sixteen feet. A number of Christian men
; who witnessed tho accident and this young
‘ man’s escape, immediately went off and joined
3 the Ingersoll atheists, saying they oould not be
lieve m a Providence that would miss such a
3 splendid opportunity as that. Strange to say,
3 this young man’s parents love him, and it is
5 even rumored that his mother is proud of him,
. and even urges him tn inflict himself upon man
i kind. ...
HE CHANGED HIS MIND.
■ AND NOW HE HAS GOOD PROS-
t PECTS AHEAD.
1 (From the Cincinnati Breakfast Table.)
A man wanting work went into Pultzer’s
b shop, the other day, and insisted that ho
t ought to have a job at once.
! “We can’t do anything for yon, my good
f man,” said the proprietor. “We have more
help now than we need, and shall have to dis
j charge two or three hands Saturday night.
Sorry—but wo can’t do anything for you.”
“But I must have work,” said the mau. “I
don’t want to steal, and Pm too blasted proud
to bog. I tell you I’m a rusher—not a lazy
bone about me. Give me something to do, I
don’t care what, and pay me what you please. I
don’t care if it ain’t more than forty cents a
day it’ll keep me from starving. If you don’t,
I’ll come around iu a. couple of days and die
on your doorstop. You wouldn’t like that,
would you?”
"Well, you’re right, I would. That just
3 suits me. Come on, and you’ll find a nice little
• bed, all pleasant arid comfortable on the side
' walk for you, and a man on hand ready to box
s you up and scoot you down to the express office
7 as soon as tho breath leaves you. Don’t you
worry, we’ll get you there while you’re frosh,
" and come out forty dollars ahead by it. Forty
, dollars is a good deal of money in these times.
‘ Ain’t you got a few friends you could persuade
to come around and drop off with you ? 1 sup
t pose I could get about three of you in one bar
t rel, and save something on express charges.
. I’d gain by it, of course; but then you'd have
Z company. That’s something, ain’t it ? Capital
" idea—splendid—l like it. Don’t miss the house.
Z Be sure you strike the right doorstep. I’ll hare
, everything snug and ready for you. Yon couldn’t
3 find a better place to die—it’s prime; and if
0 you’ll be on deck without fail, I won’t mind
0 having tanbark put down in front of the house
to make it quiet for you,” and Pultzer rubbed
1 his bands and beamed on the man, who stood
e with gaping eyes and shaking knees.
e “Gracious mercy! Wbat do you mean?”
d said he.
y “Mean? Well, bless me, that is good!
1- What could I mean but that I’ll slap you
d through to Ann Harbor by lightning express,
s C. O. D., for forty dollars, and have you nicely
a pickled before you’re cold, nearly. It’ll surprise
you.”
“ Well, I should say it would,” said the man,
with a long breath, ae he started for toe door.
“ Come to think it over, though, I don’t think
I’ll be in a hurry about dying just yet. I say—
’ you couldn’t lend me a shovel, could you, and
go snacks? Wonder I never thought of body
snatchm’ before—l’ve tried to get a job at
about everything else. Forty dollars 1 I’U do
it, by jingo ■”
. BOXING A* BEAR.
AND THE BEAR’S ANTAGONIST WANTS TO BE
COUNTED OUT HEREAFTER.
(From, the Tacoma, W. T. Herald.)
Oa last Monday, the 13th Inst., several young in en
0 were out hunting on horseback, aud when near Wm.
Nelson’s iaim they suddenly came upon two large
tears. They fired Tfi them and succeeded m
killing one, but the other ran for the timber and
passed out of sight, notwithstanding that one of
the boys—Johnny Northover—put four charges of
3 buckshot into him at short range.
As the bear seemed likely to escape, Adam Ben
son said he would ride around the thicket, which
7 was a short distance, and head him off. He accord-
L ingly started off alone, and reached the other side
of tne wood before the bear. He dismounted and
» tied his horse to a tree, and had waited but a few
” moments when the infuriated beast broke from the
3 timber and rushed for him. He fired two shots, but
, the bear was upon him.
, The beast rose upon his hind legs as Adam struck
r at him with bis rifle, and knocked the weapon from
2, his hands. Then, with a stroke of his paw, he felled
Adam to the earth, knocking him between two logs,
• and commenced to bite and claw him.
Adam held the beast from his throat by grasping
? him by the shaggy hair on each side of his head.
-* He is a powerful young maa.but he felt his strength
- beginning to fail, and he knew that his only hope
was in the knife that ha carried in his belt. He let
- go of the bear with his right hand and reached for
1 the knife, but found it was gone.
, Thrusting the empty sheath Into the bear’s
mouth, he gave himseif up for lost. The bear was
-i mangling the musc.e of his arm in a terrible man
ner, and would soon have killed him, had not Jack
1 Barnes’ dog, Hover, come upon them. The dog at
" tacked the bear fiercely, and compelled him to leave
3 Adam, who managed to crawl upon nis horse aud
- rode back to where the rest of the party bud stop
ped to skin ths other bear.
, When he reached them he was too weak to tell
’ them what had happened. His friends carried him
home, andon the way he managed to tell them
' that he was not anxious to box with a bear soon
’ again. The hunters went to look for the bear, but
found that it hud escaped. As Benson’s injuries
are all flesh wounds it is thought that he will soon
recover, but he may lose the use of one arm.
t
J IWdlmwtm# glatto.
3 Remabkable Echoes.—ln the sepul-
• chre of Metel.a, the wi.e of Sulla, in the Romas
Campagna, there is an echo which repeats five
? times, in five different keys, aud will also give back
, with distinctness a hexameter line which requires
• two and u halt seconds to utter it. On the uauas
of the Naha, between Bingen and Coblentz, an echo
repeats seventeen times. Tne speaker may scarcely
I be heard, and yet the responses are loud and dis
i tidet, sometimes appearing to approach, at other
3 times to conic from a great distance. Echoes
equally beautiful aud romantic are to be heard in
tue British islands. In the cemetery of the Anercorn
family, at Paisley, when tue door of the chapel is
’ shut, the reverberations are equal to the sound of
' thunder. If a s.nglo note of music is breathed, the
• tone ascends gradually with a multitude of ecuoes,
till it dies m soft and bewitching murmurs In this
cnapel is interred Margery, the daughter of Bruce,
7 and the wi.e of William Wallace. Tne echo at the
“Eagle’s Nest,” on the banks of Killarney, is re
nowned for its effective repetition of a bugle call,
which seems to be repeated by a hundred instru
ments, until it gradually dies away in the air. At
the report of a cannon, the loudest thunders rever
-1 berate from the rock, and die in seefhingly endless
peals along the distant mountains. At the Costie oi
Simonetta, a nobleman’s seat about two miles from
3 Milan, a surprising echo is produced between the
two wings oi the building. The report of a pistol
is repeated by this echo sixty times; and Addison,
r who visited the place on a somewhat foggy day,
’ when the air was uniavorable to the experiment,
counted fifty-six repetitions. At first they were
. very quick, but the intervals were greater in pro
-1 portion as the sound decayed. It is asserted that
1 the sound of one musical instrument in this place
i resembles a great number of instruments playin’
in concert. This echo is occasioned by the exis
tence of two parallel walls of considerable length,
between which the wave of sound is reverberated
from one to the other until it is entirely spent.
, Mysterious Murder of a Young Wo
man in sad story is going the rounds of
the Paris press. Aye r ago a young woman named
Eugenie Mauris, a seamstress with a pretty face
aud fascinating manner, rented a little room at No.
■ 18, Fauoourg St. Martin. She wae bo kind and
i obliging, and had such winning ways, that she won
L the sympathies and good wishes of all in tne house,
aud if there was any work to be done, they’ were
i sure to bring it to her. At first she worked hasd,
paid her rent regularly, aaid seamed the picture oi
Happiness itself; but after a while she got into bad
• company, abandoned her customers one after the
i other, ami commenced leading a gay life; but MU®.
» Mauris always contrived to pay her rent, and b®
I nothing was said. One day lost week, however,
i there was a mysterious silence in her room, and
the porters become suspicious. They knocked at
1 the door, but there was no reply. The po<iea were
; then called, and on the door being broken in a hor
rible spectacle presented itself. The half-naked
body of the unfortunate girl lay ou the floor, b aek
and discolored, with the marks of strangulation
i round her neck. Khe was quite dead. In her pock
ets was found a pawn-ticket and numerous eorteMto
visite of her admirers. The girl is believed to have
been murdered, aud the authorities are actively
searching for tne author of the outrage. At the
inquiry held on the body it wm proved that t!>e giri
was of very respectable parentage, her friends liviag
1 at Versailles, and that her brother wes employed in
a government office. On the evening before her
■ murder slie was seen in an adjoining cate, and the
police are endeavoring to trace her companion. Tne
medical evidence went to show that Ueuutortu
nate girl had been struck a vio.ent blow on the head
while undressing, alter which she was strangled
aud inhumanly treated.
How English Ships were Built.—
From the “Lifeof George Copbe” we find tiie fol
lowing strange statement:
i Prince Albert mentioned that a gentleman had
lately applied to him for leave to dedicate a scienti
fic treatise on naval architecture to him (translated,
. I think, he said), because “it would be tne first in
1 the English language.”
’ “ Impossible,” said the prinoa.
“Nevertheless true.”
• The prince was incredulous, aud sent a note to
i the admiralty be.giug them to Bead him tne best
, treatise ou naval architecture. The answer came:
“ No such book exists in the English language.”
He became curious to learn by whet rule they
. built their ships. They had measurement® wtocli
• were practically known, but in formiag the carves
1 on which the ship’s sailing powers depend, tiiajr
were guided wholly by the eye and hand 1
“How by the hand?”
“ You may well ask that question.”
The prince then p.aced tue palm of his hand on
the window shutter, drew it carefully along, a-nd
, said:
“That’s the way they do. They actually feel the
curve by passing the baud iu that way over the
‘ planks as they are placed on the skeleton ribs, and
1 they raise or depress, extend or contract them, ac
cording to their estimate of the approacii to an
ideal model existing in the operator’s h«ud 1”
I expressed surprise.
■ “Yes,” said the prince, “the English boast of
■ being a practical people, but was there ever such an
exiffiple of it as tais ? Tne safety, glory, riches of
the country depend on their success in shipbuild
ing, and their knowledge of the art is wholly prac
tical. jgNo wonder tnat tuey spoil many vessels.”
The Winans’ Experiments in Cigar
i Ships. —The Baltimore Sun says: It is doubtless tne
popular impression, both in Baltimore and else
where, that tue cigai-shaped steamers winca Mr.
; Winans invented were abandoned as impracticable
soon after their first trial; but such is not the case.
For the past thirteen or fourteen years experiments
1 with these steamers have been actively carried on
in England, and voyages have been mode in them
. to various parts of the world, most notably to tne
Nortn and Mediterranean Seas, where they have
been specially ou trial. They are perfect as jar as
speed and*exemption from rolling and pitching are
concerned, and it is probable that when they arc
1 sufficiently satisfactory in other respects they will
be brought into practical use. Mr. Winans’ idea
was to have a big steam ferry and cross the Atlantic
without regard to weather, fog or ice, with the reg
, ularity of fa.lroad trains, making the trip in Sum
mer or Winter in less tiiau six days. Au immense
’ steamer was to be constructed ouu-hslt larger than
the Great Eastern—l,2oo feet long—the pioneer in
’ this new advancement iu navigation. Air. Winans
had perfect confidence iu tue storm-defying quali
ties of his steamers, and, in replying to questions
concerning those qualifications, used to say that
they could stand any weather that bad ever b2>en
made yet, without regard to hurricanes and cy
clones, though he supposed such could be made es-
• peciady for their destruction. On account of the
immense size of these intended steamers, there was
to be a special port of entry in each country.
Little Danny's Dead Mother.—The
’ New Orleans Picayune says: “I’ve just been down
' in the parlor to see mamma. She’s in a long box,
with flowers on her. I wish she’d oome and bathe
‘ my bead —it aches so. Nobody ever makes it feel
> good but mamma. She knew how it hurt me, aud
■ she used to read to me out of a little book how my
head would get well aud not ache any jmore some
day. I wish it was “ some day ” now. Nobody likes
' ma but mamma., That’s cause I’ve got a sick head.
Mamma used to take me in her arms and cry. When
I asked her what’s the matter she would say, “I’m
only tired, darling.” I guess Auut Agnes made her
• tired, for when she stayed all day mamma would
- take me ijp m the evening ou her lap and cry awful
hard. I ain’t had any dinner to-day. Mamma a
ways gave ma my dinner, aad a little teenty pud-
i ding with “D,” for “Danny, - on the top. I like
little puddings with D’s on the top. I like to
sit in my little chair by the fire and eat ’em. I wish
. mamma wouldn’t stay iu the long box. I guess
J Aunt Agnes put her there, ’cause she pat all the
• flower trimmings on and shows her to everybody.
There ain’t any lire iu the grate, but I guess I’ll sit
-by it and make believe there is. I’ll get mj r little
• dish and spoon aud play I’ve got a pudding with D
i lor Danny* on it. But anyway I want mamma eo
, bad.”
A Homely Cube fob Bile.—Here is
j rather a curious remedy, says CasseL's Family Maga
. zinc, but in many cases a very certain one, lor the
cure of indigestion. It is simply the cultivation of
a habit of chewing, while out of doors, different
' kinds of green leaves aud swallowing the juice. One
} can always cull a leaf from a hedge, or bush, as one
• passes. Almost all are good that are not nauseous,
• such as the ivy, or poisonous, as the laurel leaf.
3 One of the latter, however, is a capital thing where
t there is slight irritation of the stomach. Tne ohew
f ing of leaves cures dyspepsia, principally, 1 believe,
1 by increasing the flow of the salitary juice, and
3 partly by the tonic or stimulating action of the leaf
i chewed. The leaves that occur to me at present as
>■ most likely to be beneficial are those of th* pine
1 trees, spruce or Scotch fir, blackthorn, currant and
rose bushes, mint, the petals of many flowers, the
’ stalks of mountain daisies, the white portion of
' * rushes, the bark of many young trees, and the ien
! der parts of the stalks of green wheat, oats, ar al-
X most any of the larger grasses; but your own taste
must in a great measure guide you, if you elect
’ to make trial oi my remedy. I should say, however,
that the chewing is better to take place before or
3 between meals than immediately after.
’ A Bearded Indian.—Of an Indian with
*. ' a beard and a romantic log-ead, the TtwcArora (Nev.)
i • Times-Review says: Possibly ttoo oddest-lookin* stv-
- age iu the State is a denizen of Tusoacora. The od
-1 dity oonsiote in the savage being as heavily bearded
- as a Russian trooper. The Indian belongs to the
t Shoshone tribe, aud is apparently sixty <x aeventf
years of age, stands aa erect as Pompey’s pillar, and
with his white flowing beard and distinguished
mien, is really a venerable-looking old party. There
is a curious legend about this hoary pioneer of the
valley. Although the Shoshones persistently asuert
that he is a true-t>orn member of their tribe, yet the
E story goes that the old man is really a native of
Mexico, and that he was stolen while an infant and
carried to the north by a raiding baud of Shoshone
warriors. The long beard, contour of features, and
n general make-up of the old lellow give plausibility
i. to the legend. Whether the tale of captivity be true
e or false, our savage is aa odd specimen ox the Ameri
n can ifd man.
> The Origin of the English National
Debt. —From the moment that the public at large
began to pay the taxes, and not the lard, the ex-
travagance of Government expenditure (’’•<» w amaz- ’
ingly, and a National Dabt was commenced. When
the people paid, aud the aristocracy and their sons
and kinsfolk received through Government offices in.
° the army or navy, irom that moment the history of
-* our boundless profusion commences, Before this
” great transfer ot taxation from the lauds to customs,
® excise, and Other popular burdens, it must bo borne
• c in mind that there was no debt. So long as the land
had to pay the taxes the aristocracy were not willing
11 to incur a National Debt; the moment they had
made this transfer, and could, living ou their ex>
I empted lands, revel in the sweets of taxation, a debt
! > was commenced. Charles, we shall find, borrowed
nine hundred thousand pounds of the merchants oi
S London, and soon informed them that he nevei
• could repay it. it must remain a debt on the nation,
II the interest being alone obtainable. The debt thus
® commenced has now grown, as the direct conse
t quence of tl - « grand fiscal revolution, to upward of
c eight hundred million sterling. Macauley has well
said that this was not the first age of borrowing,
8 but the first of funding,
s °
£ Barons of England.—“ Baron” ori
ginaliy was not a title; it was barely more—at any
e rate, at first—taan a and moral distinction.
A “baron” was a person who held of a
>. superior in exchange for service, who was bound to
attend the court oi taat superior—there to acknowl*
1 edge himself the superior’s man or baron—and to
x assist in the transaction of judiciary or other busi
tt ness. The baron was a tenant; the tenants-in-chief
a of the crown were barons to the king. During the
t Norman rule the crown tona«ts-in-chief were the
g barons of England. The term or quality of banon
a had also a general signification. The earl as a crown
tenant was baron to the king; the earl’s tenants
were barons to hiroselr. The term “baron” did not
apply only to holders of land. In early charters the
citizens oi Loudon aod York are denominated “bar
ons.” The barons ot the Cinque Ports were the men
or freemen oi Hastings,Dover, Hythe, Romney, and
Sandwich, wno were barons to the king. The bar
ons of the exeheqn-ir were the chief men of that
court, which was instituted almost immediately afr
« ter tne Conquest.
t -Instantaneous Photography.—A very
s remarkable improvement in instantaneous photo
-3 graphy says tne London Echo has been recently in
-0 troduced by Air. C. Bennett—a discovery which
y promises to vastly increase the capabilities ot the art
of the camera. It is, might be expected, an im
r proved dry-plate process, in which bromide of
3 ammonium and niu&te oi silver are the active agents.
1 Probibly the severest test of any of these instan-
1 tauequa (so-called) mathod of photography consists
3 in obtaining a picture of falling drops of water ;
“ aad this Mr. Bonnett; has succeeded in accomplish
e ing by photogr-phing rhe drops ot water falling
• from a jug aud tr.ckling over a bunch of flowers.
s His pictures, when examined under a matmifyingj
» glass, exhibit the drops of broken fluid clearly and
e unmistakably, and are a complete triumph of tha
- photographers art. .Tliey show that the ripple of the
» waves, the discharge of a gun, and even a flash of
- lightning are c-ipaole of being depicted upon a
u negative with accuracy, thus opening up a still
“ wioer field oi usefulness to th® camera.
3
, Curious Law. —Extreme explicitness
u would seem to be required when trafficking with
j Frenchmen. In 1870 a lady purchased two hundred
pounds’ worth oz jewelry in Paris, the jeweler giv*
ing her a written promise to exchange the articles
it not approved. She wore them for half a dozen
g years, aud then intimated to the astonished man
lw her desire to change them lor others of newer
t style. He naturally demurred, arguing, as his ad
e vocate urged before the civil tribunal, that it was
, unreasonable that he should b® wiled undo to ac-
2 cent at the prioe originally paid for them, trinkets
that had been used constantly for six years. The
| court, nevertheless, deoiled that the agreement did
not define the peHod during which the exchange
might be made, aud he must-do his customer’s bid
ding. Tills mUih. be law; equity it certainly was
not. As we write, a case of a very similar kind has
i just been decided iu L indon against Mr. Streeter,
I the well-known jeweior, who, having promised to
e take back a diamond ring if not approved of, was
• obliged to do ao, though his customer had retained
1 it lor three years.
i —
> A Monkey Story.—One of the beet
’ monkey stories we have seen is contained in Lon-
> don Nature. A brave, active, inheUigent terrier, be*
J longing to a lady, one day discovered a monkey be*
1 longing to an itinerant orgara-grinder, seated upon
‘ a bank within tfaa grounds, and ®t once made a dash
for him. The monkey, wno wan attired in jacket
1 and bat, awaited the onset with, such undisturbed
» tranquility, that the dog halted within a few feet of
‘ him to racoanoitre. Both animals took a long,
c steady stare nt e.ch other, but the dog evidently
5 was recovering from his surprise, and about to
’ make a spring for the intruder. At this critical
1 juncture, the monkey, who had remained perfectly
quiet hitherto, raised bis paw and gracefully saluted
1 by lifting his hat. The effect was magical; the dog’s
' head and tail dropped, and ho sneaked off and en
‘ tered the house, reiusing to leave it until he wag
* satisfied that bis polite but mysterious guest had de
' parted. Hia wh<xe demeanor showed piainiy that
' he felt the monkey was something •• uncanny,” and
* not to be meddled with.
Extraordinary Adventure of an
Englishman. The Journal de Monaco tells a strange
j story as to an Eugashman, whom it stylos “ Sil
. H.” While bathing at the Paint Barraya he in
-1 cautiously struck his head against a rock; The
i wound bled profusely, and ha oeuld only just regain,
the shore before tainting. He recovered conscious
ness in a few hours, but was too weak to dress, and
lay th«re uaked and starving for six days, when, col-
• lecting al! his strength, he managed to Climb and
- crawl to th® wall of a garden, and Knock at the gate
with a stick. Men working in the garden went to
L the gate, aud were startled ak seeing an ap-
- parent corpse, but restoratives brought him back to
, consciousness, and though he ®ould not yet speak,
i he scrawled a few lines to the landlord of nis hotel.
He is now out of danger, though the state of his
wounds confirmed tne length oi his exposure and
privations.
s A Singular Case of Poisoning from
Rat-jxesnake Yibl’s. —On Sunday last, says the Vir
ginia (hev.) Chronicle, June 14tu, Mr. Bray, of Six--
7 Mile Canyon. Left bis cane in datro and asked a
i friend who wau going down that way to bring it up.
5 The Irieud did so, but on the way encountered a
r rattlesnake, aud in striking at the reptile broke the
cane iu two. He killed the snake, however, smash
ing its head With the broken end. Ha explained
the matter to Bray, who set abwut mending the
i fractured stick. He fitted the pieces together, and
I soon afterward felt a severe pain in his hand, which
seemed to origin ate in a spot wfasre a small sore
> had been troubling him tor some days. It soon
i became evident that some of the virus from the
i langs of the rattlesnake bad entered his hand. Ha
was treated liberally with whisky and ammonia and
came out all right.
. Strange Case of Hydrophobia.—>
i About six years ago, says the Bridgeport (Conn.)
I Standard, Henry B. Banks, of Easton, killed hia
dog, supposing him to be mad. At tue time there
- was no reason to suppose the dog had bitten any
member of the lamily. Last Saturday the daughter
of Mr. Banks, aged thirteen, was seized with hydro
phobic symptoms, aud the disease rapidly devel-
* oped until Sunday evening, when her sufl'eringg
s were awful to witness. Nothing could bi done to
- alleviate her tortures. At last accounts she was
. still alive. As the little girl has never been exposed
- to a rabid dog except the one killed six years ago, it
• is supposed by her friends that the disease must
s have developed from some slight bite or scratch
J received then, so slight in fact that it was never no-
1 ticed by any ouc, or complained of by the little girl
2 herself.
” Bird Stuffing.—According to the dic«-
3 turn uttered, or supposed to have been uttered, by
i' one of our leading ornithologists, “The worst use
* you can make ol a bird is to stuff it,” and in nine
teen cases out ot twenty this saying is true, for,
from a real naturalist’s point of view, comparative
ly little can be got irom the staffed ana mounted
2 specimen, not only of a bird but of almost any oth
“ er animat Nevertheless there is a very large clasg
of persons who are not real naturalists, and to them
, the skin ot a beast, bird, reptile, or fish, duly pre
pared and embellished witu gfe-ss eyes, stuck up
’ with wire througa its legs, iu a glazed box, and sur
t rounded by imitation ioliage, dried and dyed herb
j age, is a joy forever, though perhaps not even to
, them a thing of bsauty.
s ‘• For Tins-Occasion Only.”—Tortura
5 by thumb-screw was revived in Leipzic the othes
day, for this occasion only.” In a museum thera
a specimen ot the old instrument of torture is pre*
» served. A friend oi one of the officials was looking
j at it, and observed, jesting, taat the men of old
must have been bat feeble to have given way so
’ readily under torture, adding, boastingly, that he
{ was sure he could bear it well enough. H:s iriend
> immediately proposed a wager on the trial, the
, boaster agree!, the thumb-«®rews were brought
, out, fitted on, and twisted two or three turns. It is
said that the humiliation of Bassus, or of Mark
a Twain’s bully “ Arkansas,” was a joko compared
’ with the result of the experiment.
r Superstitions of Artists.—A
1 paper records a number of superstitions of artists*
1 some of which are very carious. Tietjens, for in;
- stance, believed that the person would t-peedily di<
- who shook hands witu her over the threshold a4
b parting; Rachel aud Mars thought they gained
J their greatswt successes immediately after they met
i a funeral ; Bellini would not permit a new work te
j be brought out if on the day announced he was first
e greeted by a man, aud “La Komnambula” waa
. several times thus postponed ; Meyerbeer regularly
t washed his bands before beginning an overture, and
i a living noted tragedienne never plays ua.ess saa ’
) lias a white mouse in her bosom.
i
An Eccentric Eabmisb.—New Britaina
township, Bucks county, Penn., contains an eccen-<
8 trie old farmer by the name of JElias Biack, who be-
- lie-ves in keeping everything on his place. He hag
e not sold anything for years, never thrashes mora
f grain than he can use, aud the rest is allowed to
t stand in the stocks for mica and vermin to feed on.
e One field of about four acres is literally covered
9 with stacks, some oi them fully fifteen years old.
i, Over 200 stacks may bo counted ou the place. It ia
the most novel sight ever witn®®sed on a farm to
5 see hundreds of stacks all closely huddled together,,
reminding one of tue pictures of an Indian lodge
, or an African kraal.
d
f Self-Sacrifice. —An English gentle*
* man and his lady, wuo were on their passage to the
3 East Indies in one of the vessel® of an English fleet,
g paid a visit to the admiral’s ship, leaving two young
t children in the care of a negro servant, who wag
1 about eighteen years of age. A violent storm aris
ing during their absence, the ship containing the
p two children was last sinking, when a boat arrived
irom the admiral’s ship for their relief. The crew
, eagerly crowded to the boat; but the negro lad find
’ ing there was only room for him alone, or the two
‘ children, generously put them on board, and re
mained himself ou the wreck, which, with the gen
erous boy, was i_imediately engulfed in the ocean. ;
Peasant Voters in Belgium. —Tha
/ privilege of voting at elections is obtained under
i rath®r a carious condition by Belgian peasants. Th®
« poeeewßor ot’ a “mixed horse”—a horse used fol
convenience aad comfort, as well as for work—is
{ entitled to a vote; aud so many abuses arose from
i the privilege, that it has been decided that each
p owner must produce a carriage or saddle, in sup-i 1
i port ot ixiu qualification, as evidence that the ariu
■I mal is used for other than work.
1 cordingly electioneering agents go round the dis
-5 tricte, and lead out saddles to tne peasants until
j their qualifications have been duly proved.
<1 “I thought you were born on tha
y I first of April,” said a Benedict to his lovely wife,
e j who had mentioned the twenty-first as her birthday,
i- ' “ Most people would think so from <ffioj.ee of a
I busbaudtf- ’ she replied. 1 *