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The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, October 10, 1873, Image 1

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HYDROPHOBIA'S HORRORS.
1 f T ff I
The
Bite Which Took a
Kill it -Victim.
-Veer to
i-1.
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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 ' '

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