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1 f T ff I The Bite Which Took a Kill it -Victim. -Veer to i-1. 1 f I'1 (4 7-:l I ? ' r-, It r HUDAY, OCTOBEB 10, 1873. LOCAL A5P MISCEIXASEOCS. The "financial flurry" hasc" . . ... dcp round, in the price of wheat S purple and gold, Um of the"-"' nch"t1 "nJ . m the wood tht crown eil-!ind, where the ningid aplrador glow, 'here the gay company of trees look down ': Oa the greea field below. My atep are not alone , thiwe bright walk; the sweat south wind at S pJay, aeetltng where the pinled leave are - . strewn 1 Along the winding war- Anl lu In Heaven, tie while, 'raa, that sends the gale to wanderhere, oss out on the fair earth bis quiet smile I The sweetest of the fear. S Where now the solemn shade Veil aresnd bloonvwhere many branches meet So fateful, when the noon of summer made Xne vaileya aick with heat? Let in through all tfce tree Con the strange rajs; the forest depth are Irish t: Thai1 aunnr-colored foliage in the breeze. Twinkle like beam of light. Tie riTulet. late -unseen, ' Wk re, bickering through the shrubs it water run, Shise with theimage of it golden screen, And glimmerings of the sun. But 'neath yon crimson tree, uXe"a?r to listening maid might breathe hi flamed Nor mark, within its roseate canopy, Her blush of maiden hame. O Autumn! why so soon Depart the lines that make thy forests glad ; Thy gentle wind and thy fair ennny noon, And leave thee wild and aad? Ah', 'twere a lot too blest Forever in thy colored shade to stray; Amid the kisses of the soft southwest To roam and dream for aye! And leave the Tain, low strife That make men mad the tug for wealth and power, The passion and the cares that wither life. And waste iu little Sour: AGAIN, O, WIGHT. Again, O tender and benignant Night, sfv ferered temples unto thee i bare Bend softly downward from thy tranquil higiit. A I'd iay thy dewy fingera gently there. Ufa lay tny aewy nn Again, O Night, aga: igain, u p ignt, again ! Until the turmoil of my brain shall And gentle Shall come to nish pain. Still ! most compassionate, most blessed Kight ! The little wood-bird in iuiowuy oast. All safely sheltered in it wind-tossed hight, Ard softly tended, has been lulled to rest. Thou rock'st the murmuring bee To sleep amidst the lily's curtain folds, And slumber hold j-H weary thing., eave me. Haw pity, pitying Kight I thy breath of halm, Thv dews shed o'er me. On my forehead bare Make haste to lay thy tender cooling palm, Thr stilling finger on the pulse of care. I thank thee, K ight ! I fei O'er each tired sense ft apells begin to creep In visions, sleep Tegins my eye to seal. People Who Never Get On. There are people in this world who seem to be so constituted that they keep all they have and add more to it. There an e.hers who are always losing their scant possessions and rarely finding them selves able to replace them. It begins in childhood with children of the same ho liar hold. One will have her Christ mas book with the gilt covers, her doll, 'and her fancy box, and little trinkets, al most as good as new the next Christmas. Nay, the doll will have a new wardrobe. and be fresher than at first. Her sister, with the same presents, will have torn) v her book into bits, broker, he doli; gfven sn j away her trinkets, and be quite uncon scious of the whereabouts of the fancy box. They live In the same house, and have the same education, but one is dif ferent from the other, and remains so all through life. As a young lady, one never can find her thimble or her scis sors, nor the book she wants, nor the music she has hut half learnt, while her - siBter ia never at a loss as to such mat ters. And as married women, one, with the amamoantofjin-money, will 5V fine clothes and jeweLty, , while Iter goea shabby, 't boya start ia life with equal One finds himself, at forty, with j sn; the other Is wretchedly poor, rithont prospects. The pennies he -' aMOrnod to save have made the other a rich man, perhaps, Something has, at any rate. One has been no more vicious than tlje c&er, but while one has accumula . bed wealth, the other has not. I am not sure that any thing can be done for people who are not born to get on. Something within them clogs their ..movement. We should no more be an gry with them than with a cripple who cannot climb a hill. - Nature made them ao, and bo they will stay as long as the soul cleaves to the mortal ,body. They are often good people, often desirous of being generous. They are generally people who can't say "No;" and the oth ers are sometimes a little hard-fisted; but still, the good things of the world cling to tiie one class and fall from the other, who, tor some inscrutable reason) known only to their Maker, do not seem be born to get on. ' , . Maby Kyle Dallas. -igWarStatIon on Pike's Peak. Denver, Col., October 1. The Uni ted States Signal Station on the summit of Pike'B Peak is nearly completed, and will he dedicated with appropriate cere monies nn the 11th inst. The telegraph line to the summit is already completed, and when the station is fuily establiuhed important scientific disclosures may be expectetV The signal station is 14,216 feet above the sea level. One observer and three assistants will remain on the summit all winter. The new trail lead ing thereto renders its location accessi ble excepting ia the most severe weath er. Dr. V. F. Hayden, the eminent Chief tf Government Territorial Sur- -wejTs8 pnrclut.-.! a huuie at Ctdurado gprings, near the foot of Pike's Peak, and triii reskia there permanently. - Natiows WiTHOtrr Fire. Accord ing to Pliny, fire was a long time un known to gome of the ancient Egyptians, and when a celebrated astronomer show ed it to them, they were absolutely in raptures. The Phoenicians, Greeks and several other nations, acknowledged that their ancestors were once without the ae of fire, and the Chinese confess the tme of their progenitors. Pompanion, (j!a, Plutarch and other ancient writers, Wk of nations who, at the time when . as wrote, knew not the use of. fire, or J nad just learned it. Facts of the same 1 kind are also attested by several modern nations. The inhabitants of the Marian Islands, which were discovered in 1551, had no idea of fire. Never was astonish ment greater than theirs when they saw it on the desert in one of their Inlands. At first they believed it was some kind of animal that fixed to and fed upon -Td. ir. Joseph . Cannon, Conirreiman- t from Illinois, says he will make it first business when he gets to Wsh on to find o.jt what sum a Beprenen- e of the people can live on in a de- !, befitting manner, and will then ex- imself to have the salary fixed at figure. Mrv Cannon will find that cost of "a decent, befitting" support rang&rom $900 to $150,000, ac ing as Mr.; and Mrs, Congressman define thorn very uncertain ad- IV 1-es, "decent" and "befittiog.'V-Ifw- Expret. . - 1 t L t' VOLUME L JLECTSTORY TOM'S WIFE. We had just finished breakfast. Tom laid down - the egg-spoon, he had been playing with, and looked across at mother. "Aunt Anne, I think I'll take a wife," be said, exactly as he miglr have said, I thinkl'll tike another eup of coffee." "Take a wife?" repealed mother, by no means receiving the information ax tranquilly as it had been given. "What for?" "Well, I don't know," answered Tom, thoughtfully. "It's a notion I've got in my head,' somehow." "All nonsense!" said mother, sharply. "Do you think so?" said Tom, ' appar ently doubtful, but not in the least put- cut. "Think bo? I know it. What in the world can you want of a wife? After all these years we have lived go comfor tably together, to bring home somebody to turn the house upside down! And then what's to become of that poor child?" The "poor child" that was I redden ing at being brought into the argument in this way, was about to .apeak - her self when Tom interposed, warmly: "I'm sure May knows I would never have any wife who would make it less a home for her don't you, May?" "Of coure," said I. "And I'm sure she knows nothing of the sort," persisted mother, "nor you either, Tom Dean. How can you an swer for wliat a wife may take it into her head to do, once you get her fi zed here? You can't expect her to forget, as you do, that May has no . real claim on you," "That I have no real claim on her, I suppose you mean, ma'am," Tom put in for the second time, just as I was get ting thoroughly uncomfortable. "'But, for all that, I intend to keep her that Is," added Tom, wit one of his short sighted blinks sideways at me, "an long as she'll stay with me, eh, May? And whoever has thing to say against that ar rangement will have to go out of my house to say it not that I'm afraid .of any such result in this case and, on the whole, Aunt Anne, I should like to try the experiment." Mother smiled grimly, but Tom was so evidently bent on his "experiment," as he called it, that flie gave up the ar gument. "You can dance, if you're ready to pay the piper," she said, shortly. "And pray how soon do you mean to be mar- Dried? .5K . Tom's face fell a little at this qustion. "Well," said he, ''I can't say exactly. I suppose wt shall have to be engaged first." WThat!" said mnthr, opening her eyes; '"why, you never mean tosay, Tom, you haven't spoken to her yet?" "Not yet," answered Tom, cht-erf-!!y. "Time enough for Mmt, von knov, :.''r I had hpoken to you." Mother, as a minister's widow, was not much given to the idle mirth that is as the crackrtrnj of thorns Under a pot, trax now she leaned back and laughed till the tear stood in her eyes. "Well," she said, "if it was anybody else. I should ay be was cracked; but you never were Mke other people, and yott never will be, Tom Dean. But, at least, you have fixed on the lady?" "Oh, yes," answered Tom; "but, if you will excuse me. Aunt Anne, I would rather not say any thing about her just yetj if if any thing should happen, it wouldn't be pleasant for either party, you know." With which veiled allu sion to his possible rejection, Tom took his hat, and left the room. Our household was rather queerly put to gether. There was no particular rea son why I should have been of it at all; for I was not really related to Tom, nor even to "mother," as I called her, though I am sure we were as dear to each other as any mother and daughter could be She was the second wife of my father, who, like most ministers, had been richer in grace than in goods, and left us at his death with very little to live on. Then it was that Tom Dean had come forward, and insisted on giving a home to his aunt and to me, whom he had scarcely seen a dozen times in his life be fore. That was exactly ,like Tom "queer Tom Dean," as his friends were fond of saying, "who never did any thing like anybody else." I suppose, in spite of his clear head for business, there is no denying that he was whimsical; but I am sure, when I think of his un failing generosity and delicacy, I can't help wishing there were a few more such whimsical people' in the world. Naturally at the hme I am speaking of, my opin ion bad not been asked; - all I had to do was to go where mother went, and, while she gave her energies t,o the housekeep- give mine fc" growing up, which by this time I had pretty well accomplished. "Buff perhaps for that -very reason for tine sees with diiftrent eyes at twelve and eighteen nay position ' in the house had already begun to seem nnsatifactory to me; and the morning's words put it in a clearer light, since it had been used as an argument against Tom's marrying. I knew that mother had spoken honest ly, believing that such a step would not be for his happiness;, hut was not he the best judge of that? I knew him, if re flection, should bring him round t her opinion, to be perfectly capable of quiet ly sacrificing his own wishes for my sake, who had not the shadow of a claim on him; so it must he my part to prevent his own kindness being turned against him .now. . Still, it was not so easy to see how I was to provide for myself, in case it should become advisable. What could I .do? Draw and sing and play tolerably, but not in a manner to com pete with the hosts that would be in the field against me. Literature? I had read so many stories whose heroines, vrith a turn of the pen, dashed into wealth sad fame. That would be very nice, only I was not the least bit liter ary; I had never even kept a journal, which is saying a great deal for a girl in her teens. The "fine arts," then, being out of the question for me, what remained? There was some clerkship, or a place in some family, and and there was Will Broomley! - That may seem like going away from the point, but it was not. I was matter- of-fact, but I could see well enough what was going on right under my eyes, and I had a pretty clear idea of what wag bringing Will to the hoe m often as he had taken to coming lately. There was a "situation," then, that would give me the home-life I liked best,tnd felt myself best suited for; but would it an swer in other respects? I overcast the long seam I was sewing twice over, 1 was so busy trying to make up my mind whether I liked Will Broomley well enough to pa-s my whole life with him; stud even then I had not come to nnv 'eiK'n, wLen I was called down i: t-- 7,rjT Waiters. Le'ty wa; r.rctip-t, I think, of all my friendii, tvr::,iitiy the 'ive- liest. Torn called her '"t'ie tonic," and used to laugh heartily at her bright epeecheti. I suppose it van this made mother fix on Letty as his choice. When I came into the sitting room, I found a kind of cross-examination going on. It was amusing to anybody in the secret, as I was, to watch mother's artful way of continually bringing the conversation round, as if by chance, to bear on what she wanted to know. But it all amoun ted to nothing, either because Letty was too good a fencer, or because she really had nothing to betray. But vrhen Tom came home, mother took care to mention that Letty had called. "What, the tonic?" said Tom. "Too bad I missed her." "But for your choice being already made," said mother, with a covert scruti ny of his face, "I dare say you might have as much of the tonic as voti lik ed." ' "But I go on the homo?opathic princi ciple, you know," answered Tom, with a twinkle in his eye. After that, mother's belief in Letty's guiltiness wavered. Her suspicions were transferred from one to another of our acquaintance, but always with the same unsatinfac result. "It pasties my com prehension," she said to me, despairingly, one day. "I am positive I could tell the right one by Tom's face in a minute, and yet I have mentioned everybody we know." "Perhaps it is somebody we don't know," I suggested; "some friend of hia we have never seen." "What! a perfect stranger?" said mother, sharply. "Never talk to me, child; Tom's not capable of that!" . I was silent, for I did not want to wor ry her; but that was my opinion all the same. The same evening it was rather n.ore than a week since Tom had hurled that thunderbolt of his at us mother began about it openly. "When are you going to introduce your wife to us, Tom? I suppose you have come to an understanding by this time?" "Oh, there's no hurry," Tom said, as he had said before; but this time he did not speak quite so cheerfully. "The fact is," he continued, witli a little hesi tation, "there-there s a rival in the case." "A rival? ' repeated mother, with un feeling briskness. "Ye; t How ounger by a g.iod ;e.u taii 1 urn, " and TonVs fnoe assumed an absurdly doleful look, ''lie is always there now. I confess I don't see my way cTearjTm waiting lor her to make up her mind." "And she's waiting, most likely, for you to make up yours," said mother, forgetting, in her propensity to right matters, that she was playing the ene my's game. "There's something in that that never occurred to me," said Tom, his face brightening. Mother saw her mistake, and made a countermove at once. "But the ways of my time are old- fashioned now; young ladies, nowadays, take matters into their own hands. If she cared for you, you may be pretty sure she wouldn't have waited till this time to let you know it that is, I judge by the girls I am in the habit of seeing; but if this one is a stranger to me" (here mother riveted her eyes on Tom's face; oh, dear, my unfortunate words!) "if she is an entire stranger, I cannot pretend to form any opinion of her, of course." "Of course," repeated Tom, absently. "Not that I have any such idea," re sumed mother, growing warmer; "I ' have said, and I say again, that to bring perfect stranger under this roof is not my opinion of you, Tom." I felt mother's words like so many pins and needles; for Tom was looking meditatively across at me, and though that was jus a way of his, it seemed now as if he were reading in my face that the opinion was mine, and that I had been meddling in what did not con cern me. 1 felt mvselt, for very vexta- tion, getting redder every moment, till it grew intolerable. "It is so warm here," I said, for an excuse, turning toward the French win dow. "I am going to get a breath of air." I went out into our little strip of- gar den-ground; Tom followed. I thought I should never have a bet ter eppertunity to say what I had it in my mind to say, so I waited for him by the bench under the old pear tree. "Sit down here, Tom," I said, "I've some thing to say to you." "Have you?" said Tom; "that's odd, for I Well, never mind that, just yet. What is it, May?" "Tom," I said, still surer now he had mis-judged me, and more resolved to set him right, "I want a place." "A place?" repeated Tom, puzzled, as well he might be, by this sudden and indefinite announcement; "what kind of a place?" " "I don't know," I -said, for, indeed, my ideas were of the vaguest. "I thought you might, being in the way of those things. Now, pray, Tom," I went on quickly, don't fancy I am distcon tented, or or anything of that sort; the truth is, ever since I left off school, I have wanted something to do, and had it in my mind to speak to you about it." With this I looked at Tom, fearing he might be vexed; but he did not look vexed, only pre-ocoupled. "I do know of a place, as it hap pens," he said, after a while, "only I'm not sure how it would suit you." "That's soon seen," said I. "What is it like!" "Well, it's a sort of of general use fulness " "Wrhy, it must be to run errands," said I, laughing. "And where is it, Tom?" "Well,"; said Tom, hesitating again, "it's with me," ..... "How rilj rilcel'M exclaimed. "Hew noon can I nave it?" i ... . -, SOMERSET, ' "The sooner the better, so" far as I am j concerned," said Tom, a d with that i he turned round and looked at me, and ! directly I met his eyes I knew somehow, all in a moment, what it was he meant; l and I knew, too, both that I could not . have passed all my life with Will Broomley, and why I could not. I am sure Letty Walters, who inter ' rupted us just then, must have thought : my wits were wandering that evening, ' and, indeed, they were; for I was com ; pletely dazed with thia sudden turn j things had taken. But Tom, who had the advantage of me there, took it quite coolly, and laughed and talked with Letty just the same as ever till she went away. It was pretty late when we went in. Mother sat where we had left her knit ting in the twilight. " "Wasn't that Letty Walters with you a while ago?" she said, as we came up. "Yes," said I, with a confused feeling of an explanation of something being necessary; "she just came to bring the new crochet pattern she promised me." "H'm!" said mother, as much as to say she had her own ideas as to what Letty came for. Tom had been wandering about the room in ad absent sort of fashion, taking up and putting down in the wrong pla ces all the small objects tha '-ame in his way. He came up and tooR a seat by mother. I became of a sudden very busy with the plants in the window; for I knew he was going to tell her. , ''Wish me joy, Aunt Anne," said he, "it's all settled." "Settled, is it?" said mother, in any thing but a joyful tone. "So it's as suspected all along. Well, you have my best wishes, Tom; perhaps you may be happy together after all; I'm sure I hope so." This wasn't a very encouraging sort of congratulation, and Tom seemed rather taken aback by it. "I'm sorry you're not pleased," he said after a pause; "I had an idea somehow you would be." "I don't know from what you judged. But there's no use crying over spilt milk. You'll be married directly, I presume; I must be looking out for a house," and mother stroked her nose reflectively with a knitting needle. "What for?" said Tom; "I thought of keeping on here all the same." . "I never supposed otherwise," said mother. "Of course, I did not expect to turn you out of your own house." "What is the need of looking out for another, then?" "Why, for myself ?" l or yourseit : repeated lorn, in a tone of utter m zement. "Going to leave us just '"hy, Aunt Anne, I never heard of St-. ing!" ' " Now, Tom," said -hiuther, speaking very fast, and making her needles fly in concert, "we might as well come to an understanding at once on this subject. I am fully sensible of your past kindness now just let me finish :I say I appre ciate if, and have tried to do my duty by you in return, as I hope I shall always he reftj 4r l.i I i.jb. all -fcooj fco-y4 and your wife, and shall be glad to help her if ever I can, but to live in the came house with her is what would turn out pleasanly for neither of us, and, once for alL I can't do it." "Aunt Anne," said Tom, pushing back his chair, and staring in mother's face, 'either you or I must be out of our wits." "It's not me, then, at any rate," retort ed mother, getting nettled. Amusement and a certain embarrass ment had kept me a silent listener so far, but there was no standing this; I tried to speak, but could-not, for laughing. "I think you are all out of your wits together," said mother, turning to me sharply. "What ails the child? it is no laughing matter." "You don't understand each other," I gasped; "oh, dear! it's not Letty oh oh, dear!" and relapsed again. "Not Letty?" repeated mother, turning to. Tom. "Then why did you tell me so?" "I never told you so," said Tom. "Why, yes you did," persisted mother "You came in and told me you were go ing to be married." "Yes, so I am," said Tom, still at cross- purposes. "Now, Tom Dean," said mother, rising and confronting him, "what do you mean? who is going tJ be your wife?" "WThy May, of course," answered Tom. "May!" and then, after a pause of in expressible astonishment, it was moth er's turn to laugh, "Do you mean to say, Tom, it wag that child you were thinking of all the while?" "Why, who else could it be?" asked Tom, simply. "Well," said mother, I ought to have remembered you never did do Anything like anybody else. But, still, why in the world did you go to work in such a round about way?" "I wanted to see how you took my idea," said Tom. "And how did you suppose we were to guess your idea meant May?" mother asked. "Who else could it be?" repeated Tom, falling back on what he evidently found to be an unanswerable argument. It was no use talking to him. Mother gave it up with a shake of the head. ' "And you want another house then, Aunt Anne?", said Tom, suddenly. That set mother ofl again; Tom joined with her, and altogether I don't think we ever passed a merrier evening than' the one that made me acquainted with Tom's wife. Kate Putnam Osgood, Appleton's Journal. Count Troutmansdorf," Grand Equer ry to the Emperor Charles VI., pur chased from the celebrated Jacob Steiner a violin under the following conditions: He paid down in coin seventy golden caroIuBes, undertook to provide Steiner as longed as be lived with a good din ner every day, as well as 100 florins a month in cash, and yearly a new coat, two casks of beer, lighting and fuel, and, in case he should marry, as many hares as he might require, with twelve baskets of fruit annually for himself and as many for his old nurse. Steiner lived sixteen yean afterwards, and the instrument cost the Count 20,000 florins, and it has just been sold at auction in Dresden for 2,500 thalers, about $1,900. A Boston reporter found a package of sixteen thousand dollars, the other day, and he refused the. two- dollars which the owner tendered him. Some folks are M airish. j OHIO: FRIDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1873. MISCELLAY AN AWFUL DEATH. The Eecent Balloon Accident at Wapello, Iowa Terrific Fall of Professor Boley. From the Wapello (Iowa) Republican, Sept 26. One of the most frightful scenes that men and women are ever Called upon to witness, occurred at this place Thurs day, September 25, at a boat half past 5 o'clock P. M. the spectacle of a man descending from a great- height with great rapidity, with the certainty that in a moment he will be dashed to pieces. Professor John H. Boley has been making ascensions in Illinois and in this State recently in a hot-air balloon. The manner of inflation is as follows: He digs a trench some twenty-five feet long, and two or three feet deep and wide. This is filled with dry wood and other combustible matter, and covered over. At the mouth the fire is set, and a large barrel, with a sieve in each end to keep out cinders, and covered with cement to prevent burning, constitutes the chim ney at the other end. Over the chim ney the mouth Of the Wlpon is placed, to catch the heat as it rises. . The mouth of the ballon is secured, to a strong wooden hoop, six or eight feet in diame ter, and to this hoop are fastened the ropes that descend to the bar upon which the aeronaut stands in his giddy flight. He dees not use a basket, as is usual. During the process of inflation the flame came up into the barrel, and fre quently ten or twelve feet into the body of the balloon. When the balloon is full and just before starting, it is cus tomary to have some trusty man to en ter the mouth of the balloon and put a cover over the top of the barrel, eo as to prevent danger from fire. His cons ins, James R. Spence, who travels with him, usually performed this duty. Oc casionally Mr. Boley has started out without this precaution, but it is hazard ous, and once before his balloon canght fire, burning slowly without blazing, and he got down in safety. Thursday Mr, Spence was unwell and could not bear the intense heat of the balloon, and the ascent was attempted without tle pre caution of covering the barrel. The sickening scene that followed was the unfortunate rusult. The wind was blowing briskly from the south, and it was not prudent to make the attempt, but the professor was to receive some pecuniary aid from the Agricultural Society, and one or two of the Board of Managers had given their assent to the appropriation only on the ground that one of the ascensions Rhonld be made that day. Hence the inducement, in part at least, to brave the peril. Besides, Mr. Boley was a brave, conscientious man, and he felt that he must redeem his promise to make the ascension. No sooner had the bjoon been let go than to the horror and dismay of every one it was discovered to be on fire near its mouth, .and the Professor instead of standing on its bar was holding to it ndth.Jaiajhands.attd Singling below. Tt was a fearful sight, that sent an indescri bable shudder through the crowd. There was no outcry, but a sort of smothered groan that was more appalling. Wo men sank to the ground, or hid their eyes, or burst into tears, and men held their breath in awful suspense. Mr. Bo ley did not appear to notice the fire un til he had gained an altitude of one hun dred feet Or more, and then it was too late to let go. Besides his assistants say that the bal loon was not fully inflated, and no one thought it would rise so high. But op it shot and he held on to his frail support the flames each moment cutting away the canvas above the hoop, and thus hurry ing the instant that would launch him into eternity. There were long ropes attached to the top of the balloon that had been used during inflation to con trol it and one of these swinging out over the sphere came near him several times, and he attempted to grasp it. Could he have done sorhe would have had other means of support; besides his weight on this would have inverted the balloon turning the burning end up, and, though he might have descended with uncom fortable rapidity, it is probable that the volume of canvas would have saved him. But he missed his grasp and lost his hat in the effort, w hie It came whirling down in advance. A moment more and the canvas parted, and he came darting through space, feet foremost, like an ar row. Who can ever forget the sight that winessed it? The fall occupied but few seconds, but they seemed all too long. He fell in a stubble-field of low ground, nearly half a mile from the starting point, coming down on his feet with such force as to drive them in the ground a foot, and breaking the bones of his legs in many places, and thrus ting their ragged ends through the flesh. The body, head and arms were not vis sibly injured. "The upper en of the bal loon, shortly- after he left it, turned in side out, and fell, a burning mass, a quarter of a mile away. J ohn H. Boley was born in Allegheny County, Pennsylvania. He moved to Allensville, Vinton County Ohio, leaving that place last June (25th) for Aledo, Illinois. His age is about thirty-one. He had made twenty-eight ascensions before coming west, and hag made twelve since. He leaves a wife and four chil dren in destitute circumstances. His wife has been staying in Ohio, and the three oldest children are now there. Re cently she felt so uneasy about him she felt she must come soon or "never see him again. She was here and entreat ed him several times during the infla tion not to make the ascension, as she felt he would never come down alive; and at last, when everything was ready she bade him adieu, and told him to kiss the baby for the last time. Her presen timent seems to have been too true. His remains have been taken to Aledo, Illnois for interment. "My little Tommy didn't disobey mamma and go in swimming to-day, did he?" "No, mamma, Jimmy Brown and the other boys went in, and I wouldn't disobey you." "And Tommy never tells lies, does he?" "No mamma, or I couldn't go to heaven." "Then how does Tommy happen to have on Jimmy Brown's shirt?" (Interview be comes private with shingle accompaniment.) A War Incident. Froua the Lexington (Va.) Gazette. An order was sent from Gettysburg to a "post" commissary about Woodstock or Mount Jackson, in the Valley, to collect rations for four or five thousand prisoners. A bright idea struck the "A. C S." He had been refusing to buy the bulls offered by the farmers, though be low the price of beef. He immediately sent runners to bring in the bulls "good enough for Yankees to eat." In a few days his sergeants had brought in one hundred and fifty bulls, "assorted sizes." lie bad never thought bow such a collection of cattle could be driven to Winchester, the point of delivery. Now, one big bull, . with a halter on, and a deep bass voice, walking with slow and solemn dignity in front by the side of his keeper, never failsjo bring np the droves of steers, cows, and heifers in regular order; in fact, is a necessity to every "cattle man" in the country. But one hundred and fifty bulls and no plain stock behind them was entirely "unprofessional" a disgrace to the cat tle trade. Now the bulls had been gathered and penned in twos and threes. , These scuffled a little during the night in their "primary meetings," but got used to "each other" by daylight. . Early in the morning they were all driven into the turnpike at once, and an effort made to "start" them. Instead of moving on, not a bull budged. Every one squared himself in the road, with his horns lowered and his hoofs busily "defining his position." Each covered himself with a cloud of dust, and no one "knew where he stood" until some "member" accidentally "tramped on his toes," which was followed by a "lunge," the signal for a general fight. ' The hundred and fifty announced with a loud snort they had "accepted the issue.'' One hundred and fifty tails flashed in the air. ' Three hundred horns lone and short met in fierce collision. The dust rose in vast fogs, as from an army in mo tion with cannon and cavalary. The mountains on either hand bellowed back the deep and deafening roar of the com bat. Fences were splintered, trees torn up, crops perished, the earth shook. The sun rose as they joined in battle, and reached its zenith when the. fight was fiercest. Night settled down upon a few battering bulls staggering along the last of the living "rations." Hoofs, tails, hair, horns, and hide marked the distance of that day's "drive" just a half mile! , As the sun set and the "detailed men" returned with only the stumps of their whips left, the commissary opened his mouth in a wise saying: "There ,are too many bulls for a safe trip, boys." A Ghostly Passenger. , A haunted railroad is the latest sen sation in the ghostly line in Detroit. The drivers and conductors on the Fort street route in this city have been half frightened out of their wits by a lady spectre, . who mysfprirMlcly hnftrrta the last car at night, and vanishes from it as mysteriously without paying her fare. The circumstances of her appearance are thus described by a local paper: 'About ten nights ago the conductor of the last car down, having no passen gers beyond Twentieth street, was stand ing in the front door talking with the driver, when he heard the rustle of silk, and turned about to find a lady seated in the car. He wondered to himself at her agility in boarding the car while the horses were at a trot and after the car had passed along several blocks he started forward to collect her fare and ask her where she desired to stop. She had her face turned away from ' him, and as he put out his hand to touch her shoulder, the lady vanished. The conductor's hair stood up, and the driver felt cold chills run up his back. Every night since then, as half a dozen conductors allege, the ghostly passenger boards the last car, provided there, are no other passengers and after riding a few blocks she suddenly vanishes. The conductors describe her as being richly attired in winter clothing, having a shawl, hood and muff and so closely veiled that a glimpse of her features is impossible. The most alarming circumstance of the affair appears to be the omission on the part of the ghostly lady to pay her fare.' Faithful Watching. . A man named Weston was lately murdered at a farm house near Albany, New York, where he was staying. Wes ton had friends in Brooklyn, who set themsel ves about discovering the murder er and bringing him to justice. There were three ladies in the farm house, one of whom was a very pretty young girl, named Mary Cochrane. It was deemed necessary by the authorities to secure the ladies, in case it might appear upon investigation that they were in some manner connected with the murder. They were accordingly taken to Albany, placed in a hotel, and a trusty officer, Amos R. Walker, was selected to keep guard over them. He performed his duties remarkably well, and scarcely ever allowed the fair prisoners to be a moment out of his sight. It was cheer less and lonely outside of their apart ments, and so he went inside to keep a closer watch upon them. He tried to make himself agreeable and entertain ing, and found his prisoners very pleas ant, especially one of them Mary. In fact he, bo far from thinking that Mary Cochrane could have had. anything to do with a murder, began to consider ber the very best woman in the world. On the other hand, she regarded her jailor with a growing respect, and the two watched each other more and more at tentively. When, one evening, the offi cer told Mary he loved her, and asked her to allow him to watch over her for life, she readily agreed to the proposition. The next day the prisoner and the faith ful guard were duly married, and Offi cer Walker affords a bright example of integrity in the performance of police duties. Business strictly , attended to sometime becomes the greatest pleasure of life. At the execution of James Conner, at Kirkdale Jail, the rope broke, and the wretched man fell to the ground. "I stood it like a brick," he said, "and they ought to let me free." The hanging however, was effectively performed the second time. A qCEEE PEOPLE." The LiUlpnts of Lapland. The Lapps are a dwarfish race. On an average, the men do not exceed five feet in height, many not reaching four, and the women are considerably less. Most of them are, however, very robust, the circumference of their chest nearly equalling their height. Their complex ion is more or less tawny and copper-colored, their hair dark, straight and lank, its dangling masses adding much to the wildness of their aspect. They have very little beard, and as its want is con sidered a beauty, the young men care fully eradicate the scanty supply given them by nature. Their dark, piercing eyes are generally deep sunk in their heads, widely separa ted from each other, and like those of the Tartars or Chinese, obliquely slit to wards the temples. The cheekbones are high, the mouth pinched close, but wide, the nose flat. The eyes are generally sore, either in consequence of the biting smoke of their huts or of the refraction from the snow; bo that a Lapp seldom attains a high age ' without becoming blhj4. Their countenances generally present a repulsive combination of stoli dity, low cunning and obstinacy. Hogg ner, who dwelt several months among them, and saw during this time at least eight hundred Lapps, found not twenty who were not decidedly ugly; and Dr. Clarke says that many of them, when, more advanced in years, might, .if ex hibited in a -nenagerie of wild beasts, be considered as the long-lost link be tween man and ape. Their legs are extremely thick and clumsy, but their hands are as small and finely shaped as those of any aristocrat. The reason for this in tlrat from genera tion to generation tbey never perform la bor, and the-wery trifling work which they do is necessarily of the lightest kind. Their limbs are singularly flexible, easi ly falling into any posture, like all the Oriental nations and thiur hands are con stantly occupied in the beginning of con versation with filling a short tobacco pipe, the head -being turned over one shoulder to the person addressed. Such are the traits by which the whole tribe is distinguished from the other inhabi tants of Europe, and in which they differ from the other natives of the land in which thev live. , The summer garb of the men consists of the "poesk," a sort of tunic, generally made of a ery coarse, light colored woollen cloth, reaching to the knees, and fastened round the waist with a belt or girdle. '- Their wdolen cape are shaped precisely like a .nightcap, or a Turkish fez, with a' red tassel and red worsted band" round the rim, for they are fond of lively hues strongly contrasted. Their boots or shoes, are made of the raw skin of the reindeer, with the hair outwards, and have a peaked shape. Though these shoes are very thin, and the Lapp wear no stockings, yet he is never annoyed by the cold or by striking against stones; as be stuffs them with the broad leaves of the Oarez temearia, or events grass, which he cuts in summer and dries."; This he first com;s and mb in his hands, and then places it in such a manner that it covers not only his feet, but his legs al so, and being thus guarded, he is quite secured against the intense cold. With this grass, which is an admirable non conductor of heat, he likewise stuffs his gloves, in oder to preserve his hands. But as it wards off the cold in winter, so in summer it keeps the feet cool, and is consequently used at all seasons. The women's apparel differs very little from that of the other sex, but their girdles are more ornamented with rings and chains. In winter both sexes- are bo packed np in skins ' as to look more like bears than human beings, and when squatting according to the fashion of their country, exhibit a mound of furs, with the head resting upon the top of it. A German Sunday. From the Atlantic Monthly for October. The German's idea of Sunday is any thing but Puritanic; it is the very .op posite. It is for them a day of amuse ment. It is no unusual thing to be ask ed by a German on Monday morning, l' vVell, how did you amuse yourself yes terday?" There are those among the Germans, of course, who respect and keep the SabBth; but then there are al ways enough of them who do not; and to judge by the numbers in which they fre quent their places of amusement on Sun day the parks, beer gardens, and public halls a stranger might possibly be tempted to inquire whether the Germans had any idea of a Sabbath. Men, wo men and children, elder men with their wives, and younger ones with their sweethearts,-throng these places every Sunday and enjoy themselves, careless of what impression they make on their fellow-citizens of American origin, to whom the sound of brass instruments on the Sabbath air is anything but welcome or edifying. In the cold days of winter, when the parks and beer gardens are dreary and shorn of their beauty, the German seeks amusement in some hall instead. Here he treats himself to a com pound of rather heterogenous elements to music, beer and smoke; and to all of them at once. Any Sunday afternoon -in the cold of winter you may find him, with his wife or child, or both, in some large hall, one of ahundred or five hun dred, smoking his meerschaum or his cigar, sipping his beer, wine 'or coffee, and listening to a selection from Meyer beer or Beethoven. Were it summer he would add the odor of roses to the fumes of his tobacco and smell of his beer; for he is as fond of flowers as he is of these, and is never happier than when the air, trembling to the notes of the orchestra, is redolent with tobacco smoke, the per fume of the rose, heliotropeand hop, and he is hiinrelf in the midst of them all. "Thirty-two cents!" echoed a woman yesterday, when her grocer charged her that sum for a pound of butter. "Yes, 'uni," he replied,' with a bland smile, "You see the grocers can't carry much of a reserve and can't turn out our col laterals at a sacriffice. . If the Govern ment calls in tha bonds due in 1874 and the imports of bullion tend to ease the money market a little, butter must find iu level with everything else. Butter is very panicky jtist now, but I think the worst is over." She paid the mon ey without further growling. Detroit Frte . Prm." J"XJMI3EIl 26.4 Aaron Burr's Daughter. It was Theodosia, his daughter, so lovely, so pure, so intellectual, so haugh ty, and yet so soft and gentle, that open ed to Aaron Burr the brightest page in the blotted volnme of his life. "She was nearly a complete realiza tion of his ideal of a woman." Upon her he lavished the wealth of a soul that overbowed with secret tenderness. Long after his fall from power she Was the solitary star, shinning in beautiful lustre over the darkened . and rough pathway of his life. During his trial for high treason, at Richmond, in 1807 Theodosia, then the brilliant leader of society, in the most aristocratic city of the South, the wife of Joseph Alston, a distinguished citi zen of South Carolina, by her devotion sagacity and inflnence, powerfully aid ed her father's defense. In the darkest hour of that legal memorable drama she evinced her deep affection in lan guage as heroic as it was beautiful. "My vanity," said she, "would he greater if I were not placed so near yon; and yet my pride is our relationship. I had rather not live than not be the daughter of such a msn," A few years after the Richmond trial, which result ed in a victory for Burr, Theodpsia met a fate which is still enveloped in mystery. At the close of the year 1812 she sail ed from Charleston in a vessel bound for New York, for the purpose of visiting her father. Her husband w then the Governor of South Carolina. Though he provided everything conducive to her safety and her comfort which wealth and influence could command, the ves sel never reached its destination was never heard from after leaving Charles ton harbor. At last all hope ended; the certainty that Theodosia was dead came home to them, and Aaron I'uir was be reaved left to "a war within himself to wage." Signing the Declaration. The following gossip about the Dec laration of Independence is from Wood's Household Magazine, and is bv J. B. Wakeley: ' "In looking at the signatures, not one is written with a trembling hand except Stephen Hopkiu's. It was not fear that made him tremble, for he was as true a patriot as any of them, but he was afflic ted with palsy "But one of the residences of the sign ers is attached to his name, and that is Charles Carroll. It is said that one was looking over his shoulder when he wrote his name, and said to him, There are several of your name, and if we are un successful, the will not know whom to arrest.' He immediately wrote 'of Car rollton,' as much as to say, if there is reproach connected with this, I wish to bear my share; if any danger, I am ready to face it." There's genuine patriotism. "It was rather amusing, after they had signed their names, to bear Benjamin Franklin say to Samuel Adams: 'Now I think we will hang together.' 'Yes,' said Mr. Adams, 'or we shi.Il hang sep arately.' Many have supposed that, all the names were signed on the 4th of Ju ly, 1776. Not so. t was singed on that day only by the President, John Han coek, and with his signature it wag sent forth to the world. On the second day of August, it was signed by all but one of the fifty-six signers whose names are appended to it. "The other attached his name in November. The pen used by the signers is preserved in the Massachu setts Historical Society,, at Boston. What tales that pen could tell, if it could speak! What a history there is connec ted with it! "The signers of the Declaration are dead. The hands that held the pen, and the fingers that moved it when it worte their names on that original document, now lie across their bosoms. They all lived to a good old age. Th average of fifty-three at the time of their decease aa over sixty-eight, the last survivor, Charles Carroll, of Carrollton, being over ninety when he died. Fourteen signers lived to be eighty years old, and four past ninety They all sleep iu hon ored graves." Success with Sheep. There have been indications for some time, and from various quarters, that wool is going to advance in price. The demand appears to be heavy in England, and this affects our own market. We have watched the wool and sheep busi ness for twenty years, during which time there were several panics, sheep being butchered for their pelts and tallow, but immediately after prices rose, and then every sheep was saved. Meanwhile, those who have kept on steadily and sold at going prices have done well; while those who held their wool over a year or so. thereafter were well paid. The truth is, there is no better business, year after year, than that of sheep husbandry, and for the reason that the increase of our population is so constant and great as to keep np a steady demand for all kinds of woolen fabrics. As it has been in the past, so it is quite certain to be in the future, and those who have sheep may safely get more. But let not inexperi enced men rush in, for complete knowl edge is required, and constant attention. Tlie best way to get a good flock of sheep is to raise them, because there are few chances to buy such sheep as will pay to keep, unless at a high price. He who has good sheep knows it as well as any body else, and, as a general thing, if- he offers to sell sheep, they will be culls. By commencing with a few sheep a pains taking' man can learn how to manage them as fast as they grow, being like some school-teachers, who learn as fast as their scholars do. It will take from three to five years lo lesrn the sheep busi ness, ami by that time the flock should be of respectable size. We hardly know of an instance of young men going blindly into the business with AOO head who have not lost their whole invest ment. y. Y. Tribune. The citizens of L'niontown, Va., feci a little cold toward Henry Snyder. Hi wife fell down a well, and he rode three miles to borrow a nic, when there was a ladder long enough for the purpose learning against the house. General Longstrect has been prospect ing in the vicinity of Birmingham, Ala bama, with a view to investing in the iron business. Mr. Peter Keil died at 4 o'clock on Thursday afternoon, of hydrophobia. at his house, No., 167 Church street, af ter suflerine terrible agony. The bite frow ' d vhich tiu:a borriblu death, occurred more than one year sgo. The animal which inflicted the wound was followed to the town of Lake View by a concourse of frightened citizens, and was finally killed. Mr. Keil wns one of the most" zealous pursuers of the rabid animal, and was not very deeply grieved when a bullet was lodged in the vitals of the brute. Months passed away, with no symp toms of the terrible disease which final ly destroyed him, becoming visible, al though he was haunted with dismal fears. On Thursday afternoon his fam ily noticed that his restlessness had in creased to a considerable extent, and the almost forgotten wound was thought of. After a few hours of snsperife it became evident that the disease J3 indeed fastened upon its victim, Medical assis tance was at once summoned, and Drs. Shippers and Williams did si) in their power to check the malady, but in vain. The suffering -man foamed at the mouth, rated and exhibited nil the symptoms of hydrophobia. Those who Witnessed his agonies were appalled at the apparent suflering he was undergo ing. Death was inevitable, and it was proposed by the attending physicians to adopt some method to hasten the poor sufferer's demise. The friends objected to this, and allowed the disease to run its course. The frenzy and contortions of the sufferer increased from hour to hour. He frantically called upon those around him to kill hiiu in some man ner mid thus put an end to his struggle. Finally he was seized witli convulsions and then died in great agony. Chicago TintfH. " Condensed History of Sleam. About 280 yenr li. C, Hero, of Alex andria, formed a toy which exhibited some of the powers of sleam, and warf moved by its power. A. I). 510, Aiilheiuins, nu architect, ur ranged several cauldrons of waicr, each covered with the wide bottom of a leath ern tulie, which rose to a narrow top, with pipes extending to the rafters of the adjoining building. A fire was built b( ilea lli the cauldrons, and the hoin-e was shaken by the efforts of the steam ascending the tubes. This is the fitst notice of the power of steam recorded. In 154", June 17, lilaseo do Caroy tried a steamboat of 200 tons, v.itn tol erable success, at Barcelona, Spain, it consisted of a cauldron of lutTling water and a movable wheel on each side of the snip. It was laid unide as impracticable. The first idea of a steam engine u England -was in the Marquis of Wor cester's "History of Inventions," A. I. 1603. In 1710, Ncwcomcn made the first steam engine in England. In 1718 patents were granted to Savory for the first application of the steam en gine. ' . In 173(5 Jonathan Hulls first sol forth the idea of stcam navigation. In 1704 James Watts made the first perfect steam-engine in England. In 1778 Thomas Paine first proposed this application In America. ' ln17Kl Mnrrttmi J .tifl'rtyvvtnt rMf-t-.A one on the Saone. Jn 1785 two American published a work on it. . In 1789 William Symington made a voyage in one on the Forth and Clyde canal. In 1782 Kamxcy propelled a boat by steam at New York. In 1783 John Fitch, of Philadelphia, navigated a boat by a steam-engine on the Delaware. In 1793 Kobert Fulton first began to apply his attention to steam. In 179.3 Oliver Evans, a native of Philadelphia, constructed a locomotive steam engine 10 travel on a turnpike road. The first steamboat that ever crossed the Atlantic was the Savannah, in June, 1819, from Charleston to Liverpool. Il0RS IN NAnKOW DOOIUVAYM. A man who will habitually take a horse through a narrow door knows very little of what a horse remeiu1ers, or what is fair treatment to the animal. One sin gle blow of the hip against the sharp corner of a doorway is sometime sutU cient to ruin a valuable horse; but, when the blow has been several times rejieated, the horse becomes valueless, because he has become a highly dangerous animal. We have seen a horse whose hips were never healed after striking two or three times in pasting through a narrow way. Another dangerous practice is the lead ing of horses out of the barn door, by the sides of loads of hay, grain, ive. A slight blow upon the hip will sometimes so excite a high spirited horse that the person lending loses control over him; and heeseajes upon the jump, banging his shoulders and- hips as he proceeds', leaving patches of skin and hair as evi dence that he has got through. Many a valuable horse has, been ruined In this way, and many a valuable one can be saved by never leading him through a narrow space. I'ombj; t'ulhi' Jiurat, Unkkrmentkd Ma st he. Many ex cellent farmer have anidwathat manure to be most efficient ia mining eroj should be well rotti; but this Is a mis takij. Manure loses heavy per rentage. Fresh manure, dripping with iitnl urine, hauled directly from the stable on tfce Is rid and plowed under, is worth nearly double that which has decom posed to saponaceous consistency. When it is convenient for farmer to haul manure on corn ground from the stable, as fast as it is made, it snves handling it twice and forward the work in busy spring time. No fears need be enter tained that the atmosphere will carry off the strength of the manure if left on the surface. The only danger to !e ap prehended by this method will ! in case of the ground being frown and covered with snow and ice when the mftnure is applied; if .npon sloping land the virture of the manure might wash away, but on level land there Is no exception to this plan of operation during the entire full and winter season, On the occasion of the marriage of the Puke of Edinburg to the only daughter of the Emperor of Kussia, the wedding feast will be graced by a bride's cuke, of which the following description is given: The cake towers to a height of seven feet six inches, and weigh upward of 280 pounds. It is' in six tiers, and re- -mldes the famous porcelain tower of Nankin, The cake is covered with a fret work of flowers and shell of snow-whita purity, while ffracefully depending? from a vase of exquisite design at the summit is a profusion of oiiwiW ' '