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When the Woods Turn Brown. How will it be when the roees fade Out of the garden and out of the glade? When the fresh That Is changed pink bloom of the sweet-brier wild letins'from the dell like the cheek of a ror dry hips on a thorny bush?— Then, scarlet and carmine, the groves will How will ltbTwheii the antumn flowers 'pfe| Wither aw^y fpope, their leafless bowers \Vhen sun-flower and star-flower and golden rod Glitnmer no more from the frosted sod, And the hillside nooks are empty and cold?— Then the forest-tops will be pay with gold. How will it be when the woods turn brown, Their gold and their crimson all dropped down, And crumbled to dust?— O then, as we try .. Our ear to Earth'slips, we, 6hall hear her say, "In the dark I am seeking new gems for my crown "-r We will dream of green leaves, when the Woods turn brown. —I/ucy Lareom, in St. Nicholas for November SNATCHED FROM NIAGARA. "Yes, stranger, it is a mighty fine fall. I guess Niagara beats creation for bigness. You curiosity-hunters can't find a dip of water better worth eyeing over in all your jaunts any where. Well, you see, it's just an ocean, as it were, rolling over that limestone ledge. Foam, spray and thunder—one dull, eternal, awful roar, spanned by shifting rainbows—that's it. hate it, out calculate the sight's nut"- to you. You think that Nature's got it fine uxjfor you to stroll down to after break last at Forsyth's. "It's like an entertainment provided for those who house at our hotels some thing to draw customers and tot up a jol ly return for the capital invested. That's it, isn't it? It gives you a pleasure to talk about and pay for, and brings dollars to those that let you lodgir gs. Come, it is up to your notions, is it not, stranger?" The dollar-giving ases of this sublime cataract had not, I must own, occurred to me. I looked with some natural wonder at the speaker who took this view of per haps the most marvelous scene that this world of ours has to show. Indeed, with its deep, dread roar throbbing through my very brain and blood, I heard the suggestion with no little disgust. The spray-clouds ever steaming up from the abyss which received the plunging sea, the overflow of the vast American lakes, failed altogether in my mind to associate themselves with cash calculations. The twenty miles ot river rolling the drainage of a continent to its giant Jeap did nrt bring with their mighty mass of doomed waters ideas of profit that better suited a New York counting-house than the shud dering surface of Table Rock. My manner, as I replied, I dare say smacked of surprise and candor, but my American friend took it with that self possessed coolness which showed him to be quite careless of my estimate of his want of what our fine old scu ptor Nol lekf ns used to call "entusrmusy." Can't you see something beyond dol lars and cents in this wonder of won ders?" I said. "I know familiarity breeds contempt towards most things, but rather expected to find Niagra be yond this customary result."' "Well, to say the plain truth, Britisher, I don't go in for any outlandish howling about this roarer but when you talk of my having any sort of contempt for it, I tell you my fancies about Old Thunder are sometl iog particularly different to that. Shall I tell you why? Are you in a listening fit? Yes? Then for once I'll let out a story I have in my memory, and no living man, native or foreign, has anything to pair off with it as respects this tumbler below us." So, with the dread music in my ears of this mighty mass of flashing down waters, I listened to a tale that has ever since formed part of ray recollections of Niagara. "Why do I get savage at traveler's spooney raptures abouT this awfulest work that the power of God Almighty has turned out? This is why They are so much Brummagem tinsel—not got up well. You come here not just to feel as this would naturally make any creature feel, but to froth and fuss about .what you do feel and what you don't. That riles me. I like to sneer down such bosh. This thing was not made to be talked at. It wasn't made to be raved over. It's too darned real, too horribly grand for taat. You're a quiet one—not one ot the mouth ing sort, 1 see my dander isn't riz by you. You're genuine, you are. I saw that that's why I mean to give you a real scare with this tale of mine. If your wool doesn't straighten before I've done you're a cooler card than I give you cred it for being. I'm toughish still, you see. Oldish rather, for "sixty odd years I've lived hereabouts, tor here I was born. I know this place pretty well, I guess every foot of every rock, of every track for long miles away—up to Erie and down to On tario. Field and forest know mv shoe leather all through these parts. 'When I was thirty, or thereabouts, I hutted up this river some four miles or so away. You've tracked it down may be to here. You'd hardly think we were coming upon this. The country up river is flattish. Tiie river slides along quiet enough, too. No crags, no precipices, no darksome forests all is fertile and go®$^\the eye of man—just peace and j»lent^r. *It is different, though, as the Soumiofthe thunder ahead grows upon awful, everlasting, that has led-OB. from creation, and will out yon and me, stranger, and thousands ititff^yet to 1 lived was, as I said, but a few Farther down, the Calm, swirls into, ripples, audi scared like of whais be exercises itself for the tail fcj^lHIhrough. It tastes pur foam and dash, and splutter and growl, througn, the frothy rapids that roughen it for awhile:?1 Then it se*$le?^ fo^^fead|v..^r^, Jt t^cesit self %r^en|u|r&dEi Indphen pltickily" smoottMltsllr fte fate•JlfeB jgf&riP'' 'thatij^lda^e|^ooa^ that pours along without stay or hurry that you can see, to its awful plunge! But, stranger, smooth and peaceable as it looks, its. deep enough and strong enough to astonish weak nerves, or iron Ones, as I .know well, and you'll know before I've done if my tongue does its' uty. "Just look across the fall.. You See it best from the British side. Run your eye round the great horseshoe near you. That curve is some twr» thousand feet broad, and some hundred and fifty feet deep.: Then there's Goat Island, snug in the midst of the mighty p'.unge. Can you see a small, flat speck of rock not so many yards off its shores? No? I know it, as you'll hear. Our American fall beyond knuckles under a little to this nearer to us. But it's a mighty respect able water-shed, too. Twelve hundred feet in the breadth, a hundred and fifty feet high. Your knowalb guess that every passage minute some seven hun dred thousand tons of good fresh river, roll over that rock into sprays and foam in the dim gulf below. "A« a boy, I used to see beauty as well as wonder in all this. Where it's not hid white with foam see what a clear sea green the flood is as it shoots over. You can measure the force of the rush of wa ters, for the curve of the shining sheet is fifty feet from the wall of fock it slips down. "How does it strike you? You dare say, as I saw it two score years ago. To you it is terrible, but not "all terror. It's lovely too. And to me? well, to mr it is horror only it has been so since that day when I hung on its very brink for hours, and thought cf it as one might think in a nightmare dream of some hideous thing, inconceivable, unutterable that held one in its awful grasp. But mine was no vision cf the night to laugh at when awakened. Those hours grizzled the then brown of my young head into the iron gray you see it now. Their iron entered into my soul, as they say. It has lived there ever since, night and day, season and season. There it will stay till the death rattle kills the memory of all this side of my coffin. "I hunted and fished then. That's how I lived. Visitors then came pretty plen tiful to see this wonder. I could get a ready sale for what I caught, whether it was fur or fin. I had canoed it from when I could recollect any thing, and was pretty spry, I tell you, with the pad dles, and pretty venturesome, too, 1 be came, till I thought 1 was strong enough and skilled enough to run risks here abouts that others would have shuddered from. "I thought I lenew Niagara too well to be in any danger from it, I was so famil iar wifli it, I thought of it with rone of the scare new-comers found in it. I used to laugh at their genuine fears at the very sight and sound of it, I know it by night, when the calm moon-light poured down light through the silvered spray clouds that hung over it by day, when the glacl sun danced rainbows above its flashing floods. Then it was too old a friend of mine to be dreaded by me. '•One day changed all this, and I knew' it for the hungry monster that it is— pitiless, craving for its human prey. "It was one Wednesday in August. The hotels were full. Fish was i.i request, as much as I could bring. Price Jidn't matter. Pleasure seekers bleed freely. I was paid well for what could be chargod for as they liked. I had found that the nearer the rapids I got the finer seemed what I caught, and the more freely the bait was taken. I had so often gone where most were too timid to venture that I had come to believe I could skim any where. '•Even now I think, had my paddle been sound, I should have come off safe. "Well, that morning I was out at sun rise, rnd pretty successful I was. I steadied my course, letting the canoe drift little by little toward the rapids that frothed and raved some mile3 below. I felt at any moment I could shoot it out ol the strength of the current into the smoother waters ty the shore. "I got fully employed with my lines, for, as I glided down stream, my take was rapid, and that of the finest. So eager was I that I fai'ed to pay that at tention to the drift of my canoe which was so needful. "It was with a start at last I felt I wa3 far too much in the full deep current of the river, and that its strength would need my utmost efforts to escape from its grasp. For the first time I felt real dread, for the boiling and hiss of the seething waters could almost be heaid below me. 1 plied the paddles strongly and for awhile I had hopes of safety, though I had never known the need of the exertions I was now using to draw myself out of the mighty force of the flood that sped onward to its fearful fall. Inch by inch I fought my way up sti earn and towards the shore where I was to sell my morning's takings. Every inch was won by a strain that made the perspiration start from every pore. It was for life I fought, for dear life, It was death that I pulled against—and such a death! for it was as it a curtain was suddenly withdrawn to show me all the danger I had so long been run ning unconsciously. It flashed into my thoughts how I had played in the very jaws of destruction that now seemed to or 1 A 1 "As I toiled frantically against the rushing waters, they were living things whose clutch sought to drag me with them to share their awful doom. I had grown so used,to the roar of the cataract (as I now recollected, so near that my thoughts had ceased to be cognizant of it now it almost stunned me. "I talk staeily, don't I? I tell you, stranger, if you want to wake up your 'i 4 fancyraallv well, jc st try atit hour's pull ajg&ins$ Niagara, th the Heeling that perhaps lite is aganst far ifrpm ^cool an thorfgfitVjiir speech, tefc^x^hing "j&inutes that had seeined houra had passed, and still I wis struggling franti cally, steaming wit my frenzied exer- lions. I had won edged some distant ifyou Ihiukjby ut- som^ way from the I had central rash of the river, and safety .Would be. waters that skirted it reach them. madly to: the effort. In a moment I had lost my hold on ex istence, and was rushing, helpless and hopeless, to the dreadful fate I had been fighting against. One of my paddles, overstrained, had broken, and, at the mercy of the mighty flood, I was speed ing every minute more swiftly to what I knejvr so well—what I saw as plainly with my minds eye as I had thousands oi limes seen it with my living sight. "How I saw all we are looking down on here! Not a sic ht, not a sound, we are seeing asd hearing, but was in that moment heard and seen by me more vividly than now. I was literally be wildered with the roar I now hear so calmly. "I shrieked aloud in my agony as I clasped my useless hauds over my sight, vainly, to shutout the smooth slide of the inland sea, as I saw it flashing back the morning sun as it leaps into the misty gull into whose thunder it shot. "A few moments bore me down to the rapid?. A few minutes, and I was through them—3afely. How I escaped wreck among them puzzles me. I was too paralyzed with horror to use my one paddle, to in any way steer my light craft through the foaming currents on which it tossed. Its lightness must have saved it. Had it been" a heavier jilt boat it would have been dashed to shreds a score of times before we reached smooth water. As it was, it danced along.frolick ing us it seemed to me, with a ghastly de fiance of the destiny to which it so sure ly hurried. "Out of the hissing! out of the frothing foam! We were on the calm, majestic mass of waters—the sea tide, you might surely call it, that was to hurl itself and me to atoms. "How oddly the mind acts in such moments of horror! Would you believe it? a tradition of Niagara actually oc curred to mo as I flashed along. It was an, Indian legend. 1 remembered how an Indian squaw, long the favorite of a famous Chief, found a young maiden was to supplant her in her wigwam. I recol lect—I swear I saw it as plainly as it imagination and reality were one—she bore the best-loved child she had borne to its father from her forest home till she reached a canoe. Then she paddled herself and her boy into the full stream and cast the paddles from her, and with a heavy heart, nerved by hate and reveDge and misery unendurable, stood up chanting her death song that recounted her wrong and her misery, and welcomed her coming escape from it, till they shot into eternity amid the hell of waters below. "Even while this was for an instant flashing thrcyiRh my bewildered bnin 1 was entering the very heart of the thun der of the fall. Moments only sepernted me from my release from agony. But the Indian stoicism was foreign to me I could have yelled aloud in the terror that possessed me. "I dared not await seated the awful last moment that was so near. 1 faced my fate I turned I stood up: I looked straight ahead to where the curving wa ters were to launch me to peace eternal. "The Hood had scarcely a ripple on its surface. "Was it real? Within a few. yards of the awful brink the canoe had shot by a flat speck of rock that off the shores of Goat Island lay stirless on the very edge of the abyss. "With a hardly conscious effort in pass ing I had sprang to its slippery surface. That moment had saved me from instant annihilation. The canoe was gone. I was standing as yet, while almost wash ing my very feet, the sea-of waters hur ried on—on—on either side of me, and disappeared. "I gasped a cry of blessing for deliver ance. Deliverance? Was it deliverance? For how long? I.yet breathed, but who woulvi, who could, save me irom the rush ing flood that tore past me, from the thundering .cataract that fell almost with in reach of my touch? "Oh heaven! What had 1 saved life for? For a prolonged agony? For such misery as must end in starvation, madness, sui cide? Could my mind long bear the strain now upon it? How co.uld it? "Let your eye skirt the rounding eige of this nearest fall. You can see the very rock I was on. It looks but yards from the larger space of Goat Island, buc those yards were as bad as miles. They were an impassable gulf between me and the stretch of rock that seemed so near. "What were my chances of escape? Daxed I hope there were any 1 I was al most two wild with terror to think at all. Yet the brain seemed fevered with life in such moments, "Should I be starved? Should I slide into the rushing tide from cold and ex haustion? Would sheer, unbearable ter ror fling me to death from my utter in ability to endure the horror that possessed me?' .// "What could be done for me Was res cue possible? Could a boat be floated in any way down to me? Even if it could be guided to so small a point, could I dare to trust myself to it? "Would any rope bo strong enough to bear the force that the mighty flood would require it to endure and overcome? found in the slower the bank, could "I bent still An instant's relaxation of the strain on the rope that might hold it till it towed it to shore, and I, if not it, would he where my own canoe had gone j£j|j "Would human .strength, could human endeavor, snatch me irom the' doom that •awtfC iMWi had so nearly already ingulfed met^£j,lund,^nd. they cared for "All these thoughts weie in my.. ?inthat instfrn%« j£n" wliil© tM^vety power ,. Ho'w to^e^aenseiess: Oh, iob madness, if mad ness would rid me of the terror in toy brain, in my very blood, thai was, as it" seemed, my life—that so possessed me, that existence hadioom "l"or nothing but unutterable horror! "I looked to t'us very rock on which we stand. Here, on ttus spot, I saw a throng of excited spectators. I was seen and who could see a human being in such peril, and not faintly share the terror that I felt? "I could hear the'calls of men to me to ha^e heart. I could catch cries to me that I should be saved. I could see women wild with pity. Ah, what could their pity do for me? Yet that, perhaps, was the saving of my life. Any thing— any thing—tcT make me forget the ever rusi»._., waters that unceasingly flashed toy my feet and disappeared. "Men were crowding the river bank. They were consulting, could see, ex citedly, debating what should be done.' "There is a rush of some from the crowd. Time passes, ages to me, in my agony. At last a boat comes borne on the shoulders of boatmen at a run. They lay it at the water's edge. Delay! delay! Oh, God! Oh, God! There is a ruian of others with a coil of ctble, not rope rope they knew would be murder. "I see them boring the boat's sides— passing the cable through—knetting It— nailing it securely. "The boat is towed along the still side water far ,up the stream. The crowd fol low it. What will they do? God! what will they do? What sane being will ven ture his life to save mine? Delay 1 delay! They have stopped. Talk! chatter! will they never act? Oh. dear God, help him bless him! A canoe pulls out from shore, with the boat in tow. The canoe, as well as the boat, has a cable secured to it, by which those on the bank regulate its drift down stream. How strongly it struggles up and out into the full flood! Both cables are secured round trees and paid out by numbers. "Fighting up and across the tide, drift ed down it as the cables slack their length, I watch—with what hungering eyes! The canoe steals inch by inch to where it and the boat holds it are in a line with my feet. The set of some cur rent drifted me to the rock I stand on. The boat is detached, straining on the ca ble, guided, too, by a rope from ihe near ly stationary caaoe. The current sets it toward me. It is brought up by the strain of the cable ashore. Stiil it drifts nearer and nearer. "There are moments in life that swal low up. all the rest of existence in our memeries. They haunt us awake. We dream them always. If I should be a Methuselah with centuries of breath it seems to me one thought would always absorb all others^ as Aaron^s snake de voured Pharoah's magician's serpents. I remember nothing else but that I woke out of a dreara of hell in bed at Forsyth's I was told had been in a death agony with a brain fever. What mattered that? I was out of the torment of the damned. 1 felt the blessedness of peace, of safety, of life wrung- from death. "They dared not tell me it was real—• that all I am now telling you had been awfal reality—that I had dared as the boat drifted abreast of me to risk a leap into it—that, on the very edgd and utter brink of perdition, the strength of scores ashore had overpowered the rushing flood —that amid the shouts and tears and sob?, not of women only, but of bearded, iron nerved men, I had been lifted senseless from the boat and borne to enjoy brain fever safely in the hotel yonder. "Do you think I have told you a lie or a believable truth—the bare fact? I know it is plain truth, and yet only halt credit myself. Well, stranger, dream or truth, I never forget it it's part of me always. "God save any one from ever trying, in fact or lancv, such an experience as mine! "Now you know why I don't see any thing of beauty in Niagara. I leave that to be discovered by those who never came so near to being a real part of it as I did. The Dog that Worried the Cows that Nearly Killed the Parson. Springfield (Mass Republican. A thrilling occurrence is reported from Evanston, 111., and, as it is probably the tirst instance on record in which the bustle of lovely woman became an implement of crime, the case is thus immortalized by the Cleveland Leader. There was a boy in that town named Daley. The boy had a dog, which he was accuitomed to take with him on his daily excursions to cer tain suburban pasture fields to drive home the cows. On the 6 th inst., youug Daley found, on his way to the pasture, some thing white and ruffled and mysterious. He did not know what it was, but it was too beautiful to throw away, and the hap py thought struck him that it might be intended as an ornamental portable awn ing, for a dog. So he called his dog and tied the gay device around his body just behind the fore legs. This held the wavy frills of the tournure aloft like a canopy. Thus caparisoned the dbg pranced along gayly in front of his master to where the cows were quietly grazing in the field. Immediately there was a wild commotion. The cows knew in a general way some thing about "logs, but an animal half dog and half bird, with a towering ban ner of whalebone and wire and muslin floating in the aummer wind, was to them a new and terrifying spectacle They eyed the approaching terror a mo ment, then tossed their heads, turned tail, and broke in a wild stampede for town., The frantic herd burst from the end of the lane into the main rpad just a9 a graye. and serious ex-minister of the Gospel-r whose sands of life had nearly run, etc ,, cime driving along. Him the cows heed eu not. The dog, with his phenomenal Attachment waving up and down, was be- One jumped across between the horses and the vehicle, two others dashed against the wheels, capsized the Elder into aditcb full of muddy water, and left the,buggy Standing on its beam end with two wheels 4n the air. Then the horse C3Ught sight of the dog ran aifter the cows, stna&hing the vehicle to atoms and dis|ribu ting it along about two miles of tiie public high Way. The cows reinforced by, the flying steed, carried the village like an -invad ing army* and such was the terror and surprise of the people, that they have since, done little else but talk about,it.-The minister crawled out of the ditch and be gan legal proceedings ag'ainst the boy, who came into town by a side street and slipped up- the back stairs supperless to bed. The dog with the bustle saw that he had overdone the thiog, and crept under a barn. The problem that absorbs Evan ston is where to classify the crime of that boy under the statutes of ll inois. rw v. The Duglass Squirrel in the Sequoia Forests. The Duglass squinel, the''chickaree* of the west, is the happy harvester of most of the sequoia cones. Out ol every hundred perhaps ninty-niae fall to his share, and unless cut oft by his sharp ivory sickle, they shake out their seeds and. remain firmly attached to the tree for many years. Watching the squirrels in their Indian-summer harvest days is on® of the most deiightful diversions imagin able. The woods are calm then, and tho ripe colors are blazing in all their glory. The cone-laden trees poise motionless in, the warm smoky air, and you may see the crimson-crested woodcock, the prince of Sierra woodpeckers, drilling the giant trees with his ivory pick, and ever and anon filling the glens with his careless cackle the hummiog-bird, too, glancing among the pentstemons, or rest ing wing-weaiy on some lealiess twig and the old familiar robin of the orchards and the great, grizzly or brown bear, so obviously fitted for these majestic soli tudes—mammoth brown bears harmoniz ing grandly with mammoth brown trees. But the Douglass squirrel gives forth more appreciable life than all tho birds, bears and humming insects taken together. His movemen's are perfect jets and flashes of energy, as if surcharged with the re fined fire and space of the woods in which he feeds. He cuts off his food cones with one or two snips of his keen chisel teeth, and without waiting to see what becomes of them, cuts of another and another, keeping up a dripping, Dumping shower for hours 'gether. Then, after three or four bushels are thus harvested, he comes down to gather the n, carrying them away patiently one by one in his mouth, with, jaws grotesquely stretched, storing, tbcm in hollows beneath logs or unoer the roots of standing trees, in many different places, so that when his many granaries are fall, his bread is indeed sure. Some demand has sprung up for sequoia seeds in foreign and American markets, and several thousand dollars' worth is annual ly collected, most of which is stokm from the squirrels.—John Muir, in Harper1* Magazine for November. Survivors of the Alamo. New Orleans Picayune. A venerable Mexican'named Rngido Guerro, residing in San Antonio, applied last week for a pension from the State of Texas, on the ground that he is the only male survivor of the Alamo massacre, of those who were in the building when it was captured by Santa Anna's troops and the heroic defenders put to the sword. .It has always been believed in Texas—and weheaid the tragic story of the Alamo by men who lost relatives there, and who helped to defeat Santa Anna alterward at San Jacinto—that there was no male in the fortress escaped death except a doctor, and he was wounded. Qiite a number of Mexicans, a tew of them men of prominence, residing in Texas when her war of independence commenced, joined the Texans and fought with themv A few of these brave men still live in Western Texas. The Navarro, Manchaea, Mexia and other familes ot note were among these patriots, and their descend an's are now in or near San Antonia and held in great esteem. It is possible that a tew Mexican volunteers were in the Alamo during its memorable si jge. This would account for Guerro's presence within the bloodstained walls. He states in his pension application that "with five other men he attempted to gain the room occupied by the women, and in do ing so the other four were killed. When he gained the apartment, he induced the women to secrete him beneath the bed ding and sit upon it when the captors effected an entrance. After they had made the capture of the place, he waited an hour on the spot where lie was con cealed, and then passed out unobserved and hid himself in a house to which the women had fled and taken refuge." A little fellow, at whose hutue hens had been kept but a few weeks, visited a', neighbor's to fini a playmate, when he was informed that his youug friend was sufteriag from the chicken-pox. The lady of the house, in tones of curuwity and solicitude, asked the little feliow if they had the chicken-pox over at his house. "No," replied the youngster gravely, "we haven't had our hens long enough yet." mm" A little girl was reproved for playing do or it a in or ha being seven years old, she was "too big(Li for that now." But, with all imaginable^|^ in no he re W he we grow, the better we like'em." iVi* •. .. t-- A little gi'i was visiting, the country^" and for the first time witnessed the oper-fi^i'v^fefe a on in W at in ceefing intently fora while, she inspected!#!?''' the cow minutely, and then launched out'** the poser. "Where do they put it infl •\J 1