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The A nr im t fiiMb of Ihr Mlmiulppt Valley -Their VtUity. A correspondent of the Austin (Texas) Stylos gives the following account of some of the antiquities of the Mississippi valley: Humboldt tells that in a forgotten aae, and by a forgotten race, a canal was dug across the Isthmus of Darien, and unmistakable traces of its whole length, bridging with water the narrow neck of land that'separates the two oceans. And yet how we have boasted of modem pro gress and modem daring, and modem genius for tasks which modem vanity has pronounced superhuman. The pro position-supposed not long ago to be wholly new—to construct canals con necting rivers of this magnificent valley with one another, and with the great lakes and Mexican gulf, was partially effected by a race of men older than Cy rus Or Solomon or Sesostris. Just below Cape Girardeau, Mo., there is a deep fosse more than one hun dred feet wide. It extended in an un known period in the world's history westwardly to the watersof White and St. Francis rivers. Its obvious purpose was the diversion of a large volume of the su perabundant water of the Mississippi into smaller tributary streams. At intervals of twenty or thirty miles other canals, still plainly defined, parallel with the first, and in many places filled with wa ter, and designed to lessen the fload tide of the mighty river, render floods harm less, and irrigate rich alluvial fields, tra verse the lowlands. The earthquake of 1811 and 1812 moved across the country from east to west and upheaved the country's surface as does a tempest the ocean's billows. After the convulsion, the lowlands of the Mississippi west of Cairo and New Madrid were broken in ridges as if the waves of the sea, in the midst of a violent storm, had been sud denly frozen. By the convulsion of na ture these canals were broken, and for the first time since the days of David and Solomon, or Sesostris, when they were dug, became useless. I have traced these ancient canals many miles. Probably they were not designed to render calami ties, such as now desolate rich planta tions from Cairo to the sea, impossible, but the internal commerce of wide dis tricts, and of dense and mighty popula tions, by means of these highways, was most cheaply conducted. For long dis tances towing paths a little above the hank of these canals may be plainly dis cerned, and not far from Osceola, Ark., brick abutments of a bridge, that spanned a canal, have been unearthed. In many places there are aguadas, or artificial lakes paved with adobe, and along these «anals, a3 everywhere along the Missis sippi, there are countless earthem nilo mqters, like those of stone at the base of the pyramids of Egypt and along the banks of the Euphrates, designed to mark each year the highest of successive floods. Artificial lakes were constructed, per haps as fish ponds, or designed to sub serve purposes of reservoirs dug by Egyptian monarchs. From these, and from canals opened by Egypt's wisest masters, farms, during the hot summer months, were irrigated. Herodotus tells —and Napoleon the Great, in his con versations at St. Helena, repeated the as sertion-,—that after these canals were dug, the failure of crops in Egypt was ren dered wholly impossible. There was hardly need for guano when floodgates of countless canals might be opened and broad plantations submerged and cov ered with loam, as indispensable to suc cessful cotton culture in this valley as rotations of crops on the rugged hillsides of Georgia or Connecticut. Each plant er of to-day in the lowlands would glad ly lose one crop in seven, that a layer of alluvium left by an overflow may enrich his fields. How wise were they who, in a forgotten age, not only created for themselves by means of these canals the cheapest possible agencies of transporta tion, but renewed each year the soil that gave such wonderful harvests and sup ported such dense population. Twenty-five miles below Memphis flatboats leave the river, enter Blackfish lake, and thence the St. Francis river, and its mouth, sixty milesfUrthersouth, re-enter the Mississippi. Grant was not the first seaman or warrior to send armies through the Yazoo Pass. Along this mighty canal there are mounds every where. Confederate soldiers in 1863 64 occupied them to resist the incursion of nothern armies. Gen. Grant was, per haps, impelled by the.military necessity to cut the dyke that closed this outlet, as were mound-builders in by-gone ages to construct the canal. Bayous within the country described by the Mississippi •on the west, and Yazoo Pass and Yazoo river on the east, are beyond computa tion and comprehension. Steamboat »nen say that within the area defined by these natural and artificial drains and highways, there are such an infinite number of transverse canals, connecting the Mississippi with its lateral tributa ries, that a steamer drawing five 1 feet without «rowing its own path cobid traverse three or four thousand miles of navigable waters. The canal that con nects Hushpuckenny bayou (itself, in my judgment, excavated originally by the mound-builders) with another, and with the Mississippi, passes through the plantation of the late Hon. Andrew J. Donelson. It is per fe c tly straight for ten miles, there is a perfectly defined towpath upon its western bank, and mounds and fortified strongholds every where on either side of the perfect canal. What barbarians are we to close these endless drains and cheapest agencies of commerce and of perfect irrigation by means of earthen walls costing incalcu lable sums and aggravating the very evils they are designed to remedy. If in telligent explorations were made, and a map of so-called " bayous" prepared con necting the Mississippi with lateral streams, from the Missouri to the gulf, we would find that this great valley was once drained by a perfect system of engi neering skill, that these canals and lakes were so planned, and so enlarged and lessened or multiplied, that however great the volume of the springtime flood tide of the mighty river, it was subdi vided and distributed everywhere over these rich alluvial plains. Their produc tive capacity was thus renewed each year, and mound building cotton and wheat growers never beheld their fields behind earthen walls grow red, or yel low, and shriveled for want of loam de posited each year by the murky water that brings inexhaustible riches from re mote hills and valleys and mountains. One hundred and forty natural and artificial drains, or "bayous," once re lieved the Mississippi of superabundant water on its western side, between the mouth of the Arkansas and New Orleans. When the melting snows filled the chan nel of the great river, gateways were opened from Cape Girardeau to the sea, and many great canals, one after another, were filled. Shallow streams of regulated depth, as by Egyptians in days of yore, were diffused over cultivated fields, and not only were disasters impossible, but the floods we deem so ruinous were Sources of incalculable riches to primeval dwellers of the lowlands. Red river then had an outlet, now reopened to Ber wick's bay, and those who have traversed Texas state that a great ditch, still clearly defined, in a bygone age connected Red river with the Trinity. The time will come when the Missouri will be con nected with the Arkansas, and this stream through Bayou Bartholomew with Red river, and the latter will become part of thé Atchafalaya, entering the Guif of Mexico. A ship canal will connect Lake Michigan with the Illinois, and an inex haustible water supply through locks and dams be given the rivers of this val ley. Steamships and the largest sailing vessels drawn through such a canal by locomotives on its towing paths will con nect New Orleans directly with the Gulf of Mexico. American railways will bear the whole country's wealth toward cities on the Mississippi and its tributaries, and the river itself became the highway of nations and its valley the central seat of American empire. The Shower of Flesh ist Ken tucky.— In regard to the shower of flesh in Bath county Ky., Professor J. Iaw rence Smith, the scientist, says in his analysis of specimens examined : " In my mind this matter gives every indication of being the dried spawn of the Bçtrach ian reptiles, doubtless that of the frog. They have been transported from the ponds and swampy grounds by currents of winds, and have ultimately fallen on the spot where they were found. This is no isolated occurrence of the kind, I having come across the mention of sev eral in the course of my reading. The only one whose date I can now fix iathat recorded by Muschenbroek as occurring in 1675. The matter is described by him as being gelatinous and fatty, which sof tened when held in his hand, and omit ted an unpleasant smell when exposed to the action of fire. The ovum or egg of the Batrachian reptiles is a round mass of nutritive jelly, in the center of which appears a small black globule. In the present case the passage through the air would have dried up more or less of these gelatinous masses, so that the exterior would become hard, and the interior, as I found it, still soft and gelatinous. I have desired more of the matter to be sent tome, when, if there be any modifi cation of these views, I will make them known." _________ .. Do you know that the Cuban to bacconists grind up leather and put it in their cigars? Patronize your home tan neries. a of of elUVEXI LE PRECICOCITV. Thc Child of fhc Period—A Hpcchtim Brick of You tty America* We always did pity, a man why does not love children. There is something morally wrong with such a man. If his tenderref sympathies are not awakened by their innocent prattle, if his heart do« not echo their merry laughter, if his whole nature do« not reach out in ardent longings after theirpure thoughts and unselfish impulses, he is a sour,crus ty, crabbed old stick, and the world full of children has no use for him. In every age and clime, the best and nobles« men loved children. Even wicked men have a tender spot left in their hardened hearts for little children. The great men of the earth love, them. Dogs love them, Kamehamekemokimodahroah, the King of the Cannibal islands, loves them. Rare, and no gravy. Ah yes, we all love children. And what a pleasure it is to talk with them. Who can chatter with a bright eyed, rosy-cheeked, quick-witted little darling, anywhere from three to five years, and not appreciate the pride which swells a mother's breast, when she sees her little on« admired. Ah, yes, to be sure. Only y«terday, a lady friend on a shopping excursion left her little tid toddler, of five bright summers, in our experienced charge, while she pursued the duties which called her down town. Such a bright boy ; so delightful it was to talk to him. We can never forget the blissful half hour we spent booking that prodigy up in his centennial history. "Now listen,Clary," we said—his name is Clarence Fitzherbert Alencon de Mar chemont Caruthere—"and learn about George Washington." " Who's he?" inquired Clarence, etc. " Listen," we said ; " he was the father of his country." " Whose country?" " Ours ; yours and mine ; the confed erated union of the American people, ce mented with the life-blood of the men of '76, poured out upon the altars of our country as the dearest libation to liberty that her votari« can offer?" " Who did ?" asked Clarence. There is a peculiar tact in talking to children that ver^ few people possess. Now most people would have grown im patient and lost their temper when little Clarence asked so many irrelevant ques tions, but we did not. We knew, how ever careless he might appear at first, that we could soon interest him in the story, and he would bp all eyes and ears. So we smiled sweetly—that same sweet smile which you may have.noticed on our photographs, just the faintest ripple of a smile breaking across the face like a ray of sunlight, and checked by lines of ten der sadness, just before the two ends of it pass each other at the back of the neck. And so, smiling, we went on. " Well, one day George's father—" " George who ?" asked Clarence. " George Washington. He was a little boy then, just like you. One day his father—" "Who's father?" demanded Clarence, with an encouraging expression of inter est. "George Washington ; this great man we were telling you of. One day George Washington's father gave him a little hatohet for a—" " Gave who a little hatchet ?" the dear child interrupted with a gleam of be witching intelligence. Most men would have .got mad, or betrayed signs of im patience, but we didn't. We know how to talk to children. So we went on: "George Washington. His—" " Who give him the little hatchet?" " Hi« father. And his father—" " Wire's father?" "George Washington's." " Oh !" " Yes, George W T ashington. And his father told him—" "Told whor "Told George." " Oh, yes ; George." And we went on just as patient and as pleasant as you could imagine. We took up the story right where the boy inter rupted, for we could see that he was just crazy to hear the end of it. We said : " And he told him that—" " George told him ?" queried Clären«. "No, his father told George—" "Oh!" " Yes ; told him that he must be care ful with the hatchet—" " Who must be careful ?" "George must." "Oh!" " Yes ; must be careful with the hatch _ »» "What hatchet?" " Why, George's." " Oh !" " Yee ; with the hatchet, and not cut himself with it, or drop it in the cistern, or leave it out on the grass ali night. Sc George went round cutting everything he could reach with his hatchet. And at Iasi he came to a splendid apple tree, his father's favorite, and cut it down, and—" " Who cut it down?" " George did." "Oh!" " He said—" " His father said ?" " No, no, no, George said : ' Father I cannot tell a lie. I did it with my little hatchet.' And his father said : * Noble boy, I would rather lose a thousand trees than have you tell a lie." " George did f' " No ; his father said that." "Said he'd rather have a thousand ap ples trees?" " No, no, no ; said he'd rather lose a thqusand apple trees than—" "Said he'd rather George would ?" " No ; said he'd rather he would than have him lie." " Oh ! George would rather have his father lie." We are patient and we love children, but if Mrs. Caruthers, of Arch street, hadn't come and got her prodigy at that critical juncture we don't believe all Burlington could have pulled us out of that çnarl. And as Clarence Filzherbert Alencon de Marchemont Caruthers pat tered down the stairs we heard him tell ing bis ma about a boy who had a father named George, and he told him to cut an apple tree, and he said he'd rather tell a thousand lies than cut down one apple tree. We do love children, but we don't believe that either nature or education has fitted us to be a governess.— Burling* ton Hawk-Eye. JOHS RANDOLPH IX 1814. In the recently published reminis cences of the late George Ticknor, we find the following on John Randolph, to whom Mr. Ticknor paid a visit in 1814 : Tire instant I entered the room my eyes rested on his lean and sallow physiogno my. He was sitting, and seemed hardly larger or taller than a boy of fifteen. He rose to receive me as I was presented and towered half a foot above my own height. This disproportion arises from the singular deformity of his person. His head is small and until you approach him near enough to observe the prema ture and unhealthy wrinkles that have furrowed his face, you would say that it was boyish. But as your eye turns to wards his extremities everything seems to be unnaturally stretched out and pro tracted. To his short and meagre body are attached long legs, which, instead of diminishing, grow larger as they ap proach the floor, until they end in a pair of feet, broad and large, giving his whole person the appearance of a sort of pyra mid. His arms are the counterparts of his legs ; they rise from small shoulders, which seem hardly equal to the burden, are drawn out to a disproportionate length above the elbow, and to a still greater length below, and at last are ter minated by a hand heavy enough to have given the supernatural blow to Wiliam of Deloraine, and by fingers which might have served as models for those of the goblin page. In his physi ognomy there is little to please or satisfy, except an eye which glances on all but rests on none. Yon observe, however, a mixture of the white man and the In dian, marks of both being apparent. His long straight hair is parted on the top, and a portion hangs down on each side, while the rest is carelessly tied up behind and flows down his back. His voice is shrill and effeminate, and occasionally broken by those ton« which you some times hear from dwarfs and deformed people. He spoke to me of the hospital ity he had found in Philadelphia, and of the prospect of returning to a comfort less home, with a feeling that brought me nearer to him for the moment ; and of the illness of his nephew Tudor, and the hop« that it had blasted, with a ten derness and melancholy which made me think better of his heart than I had be fore. At table he talked little, but ate and smoked a great deal. Origikauty. —It is only the shallow critic who mistakes the meaning of the phrase original, and is forever detecting quotation or plagiarism. There are more parallel passages, and there is less plagiarism in the world than most per sona dream of. The simple feet is, that all truth is one ; whoever has the genius to break through the shells of things and make his way into their very center and heart, brings back the same report as his deep-seeing neighbor. The character of the report varies with the individual; but sometimes it happens to vary little or not at all from his neighbor's story, and then com« the unwise critic with his charge of larceny. .. A young man suffering from "here ditary gout, said hedidn't mind the pain of it so much, "but," said he, "the thought that some old ancestor of mine had all the fun of acquiring this precious heirloom is what takes hold of me." TBK 8CBX CAXAL. This canal crosses the desert te the east of Alexandria, at a place now called Port Said, where vessels sailing into properly prepared basins get into the appointed channel, and where there are steam-tugs to help them if required. The course pursued in a southerly di rection is for about thirty-one mil« per fectly straight, the width at the surface of water being three hundred and twen ty-seven feet, and seventy-two feet at the bottom, with a depth of twenty-six feet. This measurement prevails over nearly three-ionrths of the canal. Pase icg the forty-first mile, the canal makes a bend to Lake Timsah, the bending being due to the impracticability of cut ting through some sand-hills. Lake Timsah—only a lake by the sea having been let in—may be called the central station. Here, on the west side, we come to Ismailia, with the fresh water and canal railway from Cairo, both of which continue at no great dis tance all the way to Suez. At the fif ty-third mile, we reach the Great Bitter Lake, which is connected with the Little Bitter Lake, the two together measuring about twenty mil« in length. Like Lake Timsah, they are nothing more than natural depressions in the sand filled with sea-water to the ordinary depth of the canal, the foir-way being cleared by dredging. At the seventy-third mile, we get on the canal, which now pursues a straight line to Suez—not that it touch« the town, but makes a curve eastward, and ends at Fort Ibrahim, in the gulf of Suez, a portion of the Red sea. Along the whole route there are de fined stations, bous« of officials, and the electric telegraph, with morning-pests, and other accommodations. To avoid a congestion of traffic, the transit is placed under strict regulations, and usually oc cupies sixteen hours. Apprehensions as. to the difference of levels of the two seas have proved entirely groundless. At each end the tid« exert an appropriate influence. If anything, there is a cur rent from the Red sea; but as it meets a wind from the north, it do« not af fect the navigation. Fears as to the drifting of sand into the canal have like wise been greatly exaggerated. Along the sid« of the fresh-water canal trees have been planted ; these, when grown, will serve to condense the clouds and draw rain; wherefore, we may expect that at no distant date the desert will assume the character of a green and fer tile region. The oiiginal estimated expense of the canal was four millions sterling; but the outlay has been nearly double that amount, exclusive of a very heavy ex penditure by Egypt on Port Said; grav ing docks at Suez, and other things of a less or more remunerative character. It is believed that as much as nineteen millions have been altogether expended in connection with the undertaking. In becoming aware of this feet, one would be disposed to admire the enterprise and generosity of the Egyptian government, in contributing almost four-fifths of the expense, without an immediate prospect of adequate remuneration. Unfortu nately, most of the money was borrowed at a high rate of interest, and it seems not unlikely that the khedive, from financial exigenci«, will find it desirable to dispose of much, if not the whole of his interest in the concern, including the reversion of the property at a prece dent period. .. Laura Ream describ« Belknap in the Indianapolis News : " He is about six feet iu height, but do« not look as tall on account of strong build persis tently rounded by approved Washington habits of «ting and drinking. Hw com plexion is naturally fair. So is his hair. He would pass for a blonde if his free were not so red. It is not a rich, rare brandy hue—it is rather the flush of whisky and wine giving a sort of unnat ural transparency to the skin. The effect is even more marked in the eyes, which are liquid—it will not do to my watery— and unsteady. He has no particular grace of manner or expression and dom not talk much. Wherever I have seen him he has been especial] v devoted to his wife." . .It may be interesting to many peo ple to know that Mardi Gras do« not oc cur on the twenty-ninth of February but once in a man's lifetime. Since the in troduction of the Gregorian calendar in 1582, Mardi Gras has occurred February 29, 1656, February 29, 1754, and after February 29th of this year, will not oc cur on that date again until 2028, then in 2180, then in 2248, then in 2316, and then in 2400, which is the limit of the present calculation. In the year 1944, Mardi Graa will fell on the twenty-sec ond of February, and oaly that one time on that date in.that century.