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ft. 4lt B. F. SCHWEIER, THE CONSTITUTION THE UNION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF JHE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. VOL. XXVIII. MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., NOVEMBER 11. 1S74. 'I fifo M I ,i ! Ill II H II :M i riiw' ii ii iivtviii m ;n NO. 45. osir W4in.u. f A very man In an alm-liou was sskfl wliat lie was duliig uow. lit replied, "Only .altlngV'J CMy waiting till the shadows Ar a little longer grown; Only waiting till the glimmer Of the day's taut beam is flown ! Till the night of earth is faded From the heart, ont-e full of day; Till the stars of Ilearen are breaking Thro' the twilight soft and gray. Only waiting till the reapers Hare she last sheaf gathered home; For the summer-time is faded And the autumn winds have come. Quickly, reapers ! gather quickly The last ripe hours of my heart. Fur the bloom of life is withered. And I hasten to depart. Only waiting, till the angels Open wide the mystic gate By whose side I long have lingered, Weary, poor and desolate. Even now I hear their footsteps. And their voioes far away; If they call me. I am waiting. Only waiting to obey. Only waiting till the shadows Are a little longer grown; Only waiting till the glimmer Of the day's last beam in flown. Then from out the gathering darkness Holy, deathless stars shall rise. By whose light my soul shall gladly Tread its pathway to the skies. THE REAMOX WHT. Ask why I love the roses fair. And wheuoe they come, and whose they were; They come from her. and not alone, They bring her sweetness with their own. Or ask me why I love her so: I know not, this is all I know. These roses bud, and bloom, and twine As she round this foud heart of mine. And this is why I love the flowers: Onoe they were hers, they're mine they're ours; I love her, and thc-y soon will die. And now you know the reason whv. A Wrtltlins Xeeeilr. A wedding ceremony now-a days that cannot aspire to a notice in the newspa pers is clearly not what it ought to be. A woman's happiness depends so much upon what people say of her that if she cannot be talked about she firmly resolves there's no use of getting mar ried. Since Mrs. Grnndy quitted the Gar den of Eden she has been pacing abont the world making the misery or happi ness of millions. She has not even yet reached her cli macteric, although she has chained the world of fashion to her triumph car and compelled journalism to imitate her example. It is therefore the initial condition of wedded bliss that the bride shall not blush unseen, or how she looked and what she wore pass unnoticed. It is better to read the statement that she carried off forty-seven pairs of stockings on her bridal tour, than to escape all mention whatsoever. Brides whose beanty and whose trous seaux are not duly gazetted ; can be easily recognized by the way they "slosh" things aronnd at the breakfast table next morning. The mildest of bine eyes or the soft est and tenderest of brow a, ones will "spit fire" nnder such circumstances without fear of exhausting the fueL There, is likewise the temptation for a bride thus offended to upset the cof fee, set her sleeve in the butter, find fault with the cooking, wish she were back home again, threaten to cry a lit tle, and finally to resent the sympathy of the bridegroom as an indignity. Considerations like these must neces sarily influence young men about to marry. If they have no acquaintance with newspaper men the sooner they do have tne better it will be lor mem. Newspaper men are not to be sub orned npon a slight acquaintance, even by the most seductive and subtle of ex pectant bridegrooms. It takes time to compass the favor of a first-class wedding notice, and as that is to the honeymoon what sauce is to the goose, the path of duty is as plain as the penalty for refusing to follow it is certain. C'w-Trea. Among various kinds of trees which are celebrated for their utility, not the least valuable are those which yield a milky juioe that does not solidify, and may be used as a nutritious article of food. Trees of this kind bear the gen eral name of cow-trees. Of the differ ent varieties of these species, the best known and most useful is the "Jlrosi mum Galactodcndron." This tree is usually more than a hundred feet high, and is found in abundance on the sea coast of Venezuela. The milk of this tree is obtained from the sugar maple trees. Its taste very much resembles that of sweet cream, and it is much used by the natives as food, being nour ishing and wholesome, with but one unpleasant feature about it, which is, that it is slightly glutinous. In Venezuela and New Granada is also found another tree very similar to the one above described, and for medi cinal purposes, more valuable. This is the Chmia llodactodcndron," the milk of which is considered a "specific" for dvsenterr. The milk of this tree contains a resinous and astringent prop erty, and an aromatic substance. The natives use the milk of this tree freely, and by them dysentery is not feared, though their climate is one calculated to produce the disease. One of the pe culiarities of this remedy is that it not only cures the disease, but prevents its return. This milk can be kept a year without losing its taste or its valuable medicinal properties. Of this tree, and of the valnable prop erties of its milk. Mr. B. B. White gives a very interesting account. He states that out of a party of from five hundred to seven hundred men who were employed in building a railroad near Buenaventura in Western New Granada, where the climate was ex tremely unhealthy, a large number of cases of dyspepsia broke out, not one of which proved fatal. In some cases, the milk was given with success, when other remedies had failed, and when all hope of effecting a cure had been abandoned. He suggests, with much show of reason and propriety, that the milk of this tree should be tried in ca ses of cholera. A new style of letter-paper has re cently been introduced. Imtead ef or dinary ruling the lines are embossed, giving the paper a very handsome ap-pearanoe. I am the wife of an ex-signalman on the Uniform Railway. His signal-box stands high up, white and solitary, above a charming country. It is very hot in summer, when the Bun snines on the glass, and very cold in winter, when the northeast wind howls around it, and whistles aerial music through the telegraph. it was an important lookout, for wruiin a mile of it, numerous lines in tersected each other, over which, day and night, trains were ever crossing and reorossing, with hairbreadth escapes of collisions. When John was courting me, he often made me tremble about it. bv saying, "Jane that place is a trouble to me ; one day I know there will be a crash ; I feel it. A man can't be al ways in health. Even a signalman's urain wiiif sometimes become dazed and muddled ; and then if he makes a mis take, a smash must come, We were married, and John grew brighter and more cheerful, and I trusted he had forgotten that wretched presentiment of his about the collision. After six months, however.it returned, worse than ever. He used to read all the accidents ; and when any of the officials were convicted for man slaughter or discharged for negligence, he would say : "That may be my case to-morrow, Jane ; then what's to be come of you T" I am aware most men would not have thought like him, but he had the kind est, most sensitive heart. "John," I said at last, "why don't you quit the situation, and get some thing else?" "Because a married man should never give up one employ before he's sure of another :" "Well, then, dear, don't say any more, or you'll make me as nervous as yourself. I had begun to think about the cross lines and the mail express as much as John himself, though I wouldn't let him see it. The signal box began to haunt me, and I used frequently to go up to the turn of the road and look at it for no purpose at all. That idea of a collision was a monomania with John it was becoming so with me. A year went by safely, and, except for that miserable thought, ne two per sons could be happier than John and I, especially as we now had a little daughter, who, for awhile, banished John's dread, and we talked hopefully of the future. Our prospects were better, for my husband unexpectedly heard from an uncle in Australia, who had made a comfortable fortune, and intended to return and live with his re lations. "Who knows, Jane? ne was ever kind, and he may start me in some thing," said John, one evening, when I haa taken his tea to the signal-box, and was amusing Stand ie with the colored lamps. "I certainly will try, if if," he added, looking thought fully up and down the lines, "nothing happens before." "For goodness sake, John, don't talk like that I All has gone safely for four years ; surely it will continue to do so, with care." "I don't know that," he responded. gloomily. "It'stheconfonnded Wyming express i tear. Within a space of two minutes it crosses the line of the Henshar mail, and often it's five before its time. "What do you do then, John ?" asked, hushing Maudie. "Why, I turn that colored lamp then the express, knowing the mail hasn't passed, slackens speed until it has. "And if yon were not to show that light V "It would come on, get into the same line with the mail, and carriages would go to inciter matches I "Oh, John, please don't ! Ton make my blood run cold !" After that, there was another fascina tion for me besides the signal-box the colored lamps, by a mistake or omission in the nse of which I knew not how many lives might be hurled into eternity. I regarded them with awe.and over and over again asked John their nse. Weeks slipped by, and we got an other letter from incle Thompson. The ship which brought him from Australia had been delayed by a severe gale in the Atlantic, but now he was safe in England, and intended shortly to come and see us. "Safe I remarked John ; "no one now-a-days can reckon upon that, with a long railway journey before him. John slightly exaggerated, of course but that autumn the collisions and ac cidents of all kinds had been something fearfuL Not a day passed but fresh collisions were recorded, and, with a morbid interest, John used to read them, and make my soul quiver by the remarks "Such might just have been my case, Jane. No doubt the fellow was dead-beat. Only the mercy of Providence saves me from manslaughter or a discharge through negligence." One oppressively warm evening, he had, while at tea, been reading about a more than usually terrible accident, owing, it was stated, to the signalman, who had been on the lookout for six teen hours, making an error in the signals. Putting the paper down.he exclaimed, "Jane, how often have I felt as he de scribes, full of terror, knowing how many lives might be depending on me I How I pray Uncle Thompson may help us, and i may give the whole thing up 1" Rising, be put on hie hat ; he went on duty at six. I watched him anx iously. A ever naa i leit more nervous, for I had observed him nodding uncon sciously to himself over his tea. In deed, he looked so depressed, 1 was half inclined to ask him to let me go with him. But I knew he wouldn't consent as it was against the rules ; while, independent of which, the man who temporally filled his place was the greatest enemy John had, and would be sure to tell of him if be did so. I knew Richard Malin bore a bitter enmity to my husband, and would gladly do an ill turn to one whose rival he had been. I was aware he never forgave my accepting John and reject ing him, so I held my tongue, spoke cheerfully as I could, as I walked with him to the corner of the road, and waited until I saw him appear in the signal box, when I retraced my steps. I had never felt so nervously restless as I did that night I could settle to nothing, so sat down before the fire. I kept a light for John's return, and tried to divert myself with my baby, but the child soon slumbered, and I sat think ing until I too slept The whole time I dreamt of nothing but railways. They were everywhere rushing and tearing about me ; their shrill whistles deafening my ears. I be held the express and the mail with a noiseless horror, rushing toward each other, with lights seeming to laugh with fiendish mirth ; then there was an j awful cry a crash, and a scene of de struction, cries !" Irritated at being so startled, I bust tied about to forget the scene, and I put Maudie to bed, and again sat by the fire and dozed; Scarcely had I done so, however, than there arose before me a shadowy figure of indefinite form, pointing out of the window in the direction of the signal-box. I moved restlessly, and put my hands before my face to shut it out Finally, I started, rose to my feet, and I eonld have declared the figure stood on the hearthrug, in the tire-light, only it gradually melted into air. Just then the clock struck half-past ten. ' In half an hour the Wyming express and Henshar mail would be due. At that I began to tremble violently, and throwing on my shawl. I determined to go and look at the signal-box, and see if all was right. White mists had risen since I was last out ; and above them, rising from a billowy sea, as it was abont a mile distant, rose the "look-out," distinct in the moonlight But where was John? Generally I could see him moving about ; now, the place apparently was empty. What did it mean ? There was one answer John was asleep I Never shall I forget the sensation that run through my veins at that thought The crown of my bead seemed to literally lift np. Then, why, I could never explain, I ran back, seized Maudie, and afterwards hurried to the signal-box. Rapidly I ascended the steys to the "look-out I tried the door, it was fastened on the outside ; and what a sight met me within, through the glass ! John sound asleep, his, his head on his arms ! Calling him loudly, I shook the handle. He did not stir. All was si lent save for the monotonous tick of the clock, beating out the fatal min utes, above his head. I dared not de lay. I dashed in the glass, put in mv hand, turned the key. and entered. Even this did not arouse him. "John !" I called, shaking his shoul der. "What is the matter with yon ? Wake np ! It's eleven, the express is coming ' lie breathed heavily, but made no sign. hat was the matter with him ? His appeared no natural sleep. In mv alarm at the flying moments, fond mother as I was, I forced Maudie to cry, hoping that might awaken him. It did. Slowly he looked np heavily : but ouly to sink back to sleep. At the same moment I heard iu the distance the faint whistle of the express train. Jt was coming and Henshar mail had not yet passed. The terror of a v hole life was condensed in those few min utes. The collision John had fore told had come at last 'KW my efforts to arouse him were futile. I stood alone, the frains rushing to their fate. 1 saw the awful sight of my dream realized ; I saw men, women, children, in one fearful heap, amid broken car riages. My braiu reeled : I turned sick ; then intensity of my fright ap- apparently cleared my brain. Why should I not save tbem ? As. the question occurred, the whistle of the advancing mail sounded. Look ing right and left I pereeived the growing lights of each engine coming nearer, for the line was clear. I waited no more. I recalled what John had told me, and turned the signal lantern for the express to slacken speed. Eagerly, breathlessly I watched. Had I after all, made a mistake ? Yes the lights still approach ! No they had stopped ! The next moment, the signal-box was shaken to its base by the rush of the mail train beneath it I watched it fly off in the distance, turned the light, heard the Wyming express in its turn whirl under me, and knew as I fell in sensible on the floor, that nearly two hundred people had been on the brink of the grave, and, that I had saved them. My baby's cries, however, soon re called my senses, when, fetching water, I dashed it over John, and at last brought him to, I shall ever remember his look when I told him what had oc curred. He could not believe the mail had passed ; but 1 soon proved it to him beyond a doubt. "I can't make it out, Jane," he ex claimed. "I have not the slightest re collection of going to sleep. In fact, I was doing all I could to keep awake. It must be my cold." What is that?" I asked abruptly, pointing to a glass. "Part of a tumbler of beer Dick Malin left me," he answered. I saw it alL The beer had been drugged to work our ruin. John wouldn't hear of it There being no more trains, we went home, I taking the beer with me. "John. I said when there, "in going to show I ara right about Richard Malin. See! And before ne coma prevent me, I had drank the contents of the glass. A on arte r of an hour after, I was in a dead sleep as he had been. But this act had destroyed any proof we had against Richard Malin, who, however, confirmed our belief by dis charging himself from his situation. But the most singular part of the affair was, in that very express train traveled Uncle Thompson, who had come down to see us. When he beard of his narrow escape, and ef how I had saved him, he vowed he would never forget it He kept his word. He started John in business, lived with us, and made his will in our favor. Now ex press and mail trains no longer give us sleepless nights, though we never our selves travel by rail without thinking of that fearful night in the signal-box. Spirits for Grief Sirlckea. A verv amusing application for the privilege of opening a saloon, or public-house as it is called in England, was made in the ancient city of York recently. A publican, presumably a sinner, applied to the authorities for a license to open such a place near the cemetery. There was, he explained, at present no place for the persons to go for a stimulent when depressed by grief at the gravesides of their friends. In making bis application ne was backed by the lodge-keeper and, singu larly enough, the chaplain. The lat ter's motive must have been pure phil anthropy. The former had a tinge of thrift in it "At present," he said, "these depressed persons come to my lodge, and I have to give them my own brandy ; for I should be fined if I sold it to them." The logic of this is unan swerable. If brandy is a necessity at a funeral, there ought to be some means of supplying it without loss to a poor lodge-keeper. But the theory for sub stituting ardent for departed spirits as a means of consolation always to be ap pealed to did not seem properly estab lished ,and the license was refused. UJ J In ,Mk Kw,"- Uwmtmmlmw. Ynths Column. Varieties. Tt in not O'AnAra.llv Vnnwn that tinm. ing lights are unhealthy in sleeping rooms. The COmlinsKnn nf era a tallow or whatever material is used for illuminating purposes, renders the air impure ; for it consumes oxygen, the great life sustaining element in the atmosphere. Man cannot live, only for a lew moments, in a room deprived of iu oxygen, in snouia oe remembered that air in mmnnun nt atvmii 04 vt.rf. r - faawo and nitrogen 77 parts.) Now when this aLimmiI T. . .3 1 t-.l 1L - civuacu. wuijwaj itniuwu ueiuw Ule standard of pure out-door air, it is sure to interfere with the healthy functions of life and lay the foundations of disease. Science teaches us, that respiration and combustion, require the same ele ment to support them, namely, oxygen. Put a burning lamp in an air tight room and when this element in the air is used ns, the lights will go out ; and, nnder the same conditions, a man would die. Every one has noticed what slow progress a fire will make when con fined to a closed room, and how quick it will blaze up when a door is opened and free air is admitted. They have also noticed how dim a light will burn toward morning in a closed sick room. No one will need be told that burning lights in a sleeping room is unhealthy, if they have ever entered one from the pure air, late at night, where two or three persons were sleeping with a burning kerosene lamp and smell the foul and noxious air, that has been de prived of its oxygen and poisoned by carbonic acid and half burned kerosene lamp smoke ; which charges the blood with noxious matter and so perverts the action of the brain and nervous centres that neither the physical nor mental powers can be duly exercised. People who sleep in this way, will arise in the morning, tired and unrefreshed, with a bad taste in the mouth, and a sense of heat and aching in the head. Their heads feel dull and hot their minds are sluggish and they are unfit for study or labor until they have re cuperated their systems with some of God's pure air, which can be had for nothing anywhere out of doors. A room which requires an artificial light should be well ventilated to keep the air in a pure condition. II you must keep a light burning all night open your windows and keep a constant supply of fresh air in your room ; then you will sleep sweetly, awake in the morning, refreshed and invigorated, with a clear head and strong arm ready for the dnties of the hour. Prof. Partes, in his Practical Jliffi cne says : "The products of gas com bustion are for the most part allowed to escape into rooms, but certainly this should not be allowed, when gas is burnt in the large quantities commonly used. The immense quantity of gas often used causes great heat, humidity of the air, and there is some sulphurous acid, an excess of carbonic acid, and, probably, a little carbonic oxide, to which some of the effect may be due. Weaver found as much as 5.32 volumes of cartninic acid per 1000 iu the room of a frame-work knitter in Leicester, with 14 gas lights burning. In other workrooms, the amounts were 5.28, 4.6, down to 2.11 volumes per 1000. This amount has a very injurious eflect on health, as shown long ago by Dr. Guy. In a workshop in Paris, with 400 men and 400 gas burners, the health of the men was very bad. General Morin in troduced good ventilation, and the number of canes of illness was reduced one-third. The appetite of the men, formerly very bad, greatly improved. According to Dr. Zock, coal gas gives off rather more carbonic acid for an equal illuminating power than oil, but less than petroleum, Dr. Udling round, for equal illuminating power, that candles gave more impurity to the air than gas. An excess of 2 per 1000 vol nmes of carbolic acid in air, renders it unhealthy, and 50 will destroy life. In reading or working by lamp-light, the rays of light should fall directly on the book or work and not on the eye. Many persons have impaired their eye sight permanently, by having the light by their side, and letting the rays shine obliquely across the eye. The face should be in the shade and the light shine full on the object looked at This can be accomplished by a lamp-shade, a hanging-lamp, or the light placed above and back of the person using it A fire burning in a room consumes oxygen and gives off as the products of combustion, carbonic acid, unconsumed particles of carbon and water, which pass up the chimney, in smoke. Now the air Jsed to supply the fire, is re placed by pure air which finds its way in through the cracks and crevices around the doors and windows and about the room. Unless there is a fresh supply the fire will not burn long. Therefore, a fire is healthy and a puri fier of the air ; especially an open fire, which always keeps the air good and pure by a constant current going up the chimney, while all the products of lamp combustion remain in the room to poison the air. I saw a good illustration of bad air the other day. An old lady asked me what made her poor, pale, puny, peevish little grandchild "take cold so easy." He was in a small room with curtains down and shawls pinned np over the curtains, excluding light and air, and inhaling air which was foul and unfit to breathe. Said she, "I haint carried that child out door this winter, nor opened a window, and I have kept the room hot night and day. and a lamp burning all night for fear something would happen. I do believe people are growing weaker, if not wiser. Why I when I was a gal, we used to live in an old log house, with an old-fashioned fire-place, and a chimney so big we could set by the fire and look out and see the stars, and the wind would whistle through the cracks, and we went barefooted till the snow came, and lived on Pea-Porridge and Bread-and-Milk and Potatoes and Salt and were all as hearty and tough as bucks." I said, 'Madam, if yon will only give your child as good air and as good plain food as you used to have, he will be as healthy as you were. This cannot be accomplished at once, because yon have vitiated his appetite with dainties, and impaired his health by keeping him too long in bad air. But take time ; feed on plain food, clothe him comfortably, and, above all things, give him plenty of good pure air, both night and day ; let him run and play out of doors, and you will have no occasion to wonder why he takes cold so easily. There is a large establishment at tr.,1.1 nnnnaiu Mtrashnrff. on the Rhine. where artificial wine is made into which a grape never enters. In the valley oi the Rhine and the Palatinate there are hundreds of similar manufactories where this imitation wine is made. The Rhenish and Alsatian wine-growers intended to nrge the German Reichstag ... . .tm'nrent law arainst the adul teration and falsification of wines. While my friend Clyde and mysel were out in the hills back of the Golden Gate park, last week, a jack rabbit came along and stopped to look at us. "ii 1 had tnonght to bring my revol ver along we would have jack on toast for breakfast to-morrow," I remarked. "Not with my consent," he replied. "What reason can you give for not consenting r ' "A rabbit saved my life, and I have not xuiea once sinoe, and never will kill one again. "How did he manage to save your me r "Three years ago I was living in Mon tana. A smelter had just been built and it created a demand for silver rock. I owned an interest in a lead that had been sunk on thirty feet Thinking tne time nad come to make it available, I concluded to go there and get some ore, and have it tested. I did to ; and reached the place just in time to take shelter in the mine from a terrible hail storm. I lighted my candle, went to the bottom, and went to work. I had not been there more than five minutes when I heard a noise that sounded like a cannon. The rocks over my head shook, and in a moment the shaft be hind me caved. Yon can imagine my feelings better than I can describe them, when I found myself buried alive. I tremble even at this distant day when I think of that moment The roof of the shaft was rocks, and when they came down they did not pack so tight but what the air came through. There was nothing that I could do to release myself. I knew that if release did not come from the outside I must perish. No one knew that I had gone there. A road ran past the mouth of the shaft ; but it was not traveled much, and I was not likely to attract atten tion by calling ; nevertheless, I shouted at intervals all day. I he following morning I commenced calling again : and all day, whenever I thought I heard a sound, I shouted. "When night came all hope of being released had abandoned me. One thing added great bitterness to my suf ferings. I owed quite a large sum of money, and should my fate remain un known, my creditors would think I had ued to defraud them, and my name would be stigmatized. "I will not dwell on the agonies I en dured ; I am sorry I cannot forget them. "The morning of the fourth day of my imprisonment I heard something crawl into my grave, I "lighted my can dle and saw a rabbit There were only one aperature large enongh to admit him ; I closed it to prevent his escape. I saw in him food to appease my hunger, and my hand was raised to kill h.m, when a thonght occurred to me that prevented the blow from descending. I had two fish-lines ; their united length would reach to the road. I took off my shirt, torn it into strings, tied them to gether and on to the fish line. I wore a long gold watch chain ; I tied it on to the part of the line that would cross the road. I then cut several leaves from my diary, wrote on them my con dition, and tied them on to that part of the line that would be outside. I then tied the end made out of my shirt aronnd jack's neck and lethimout He soon reached the end of the line, and I knew by the way he was pulling that he was making desperate attempt to escape. Soon the tugging stopped, and knowing gnawing to be Jack's chief accomplish ment, 1 thought he had cut himself loose. Alxut three hours afterward I felt the line pulled ; then some one called. I tried to answer, but tne hoarse noise I made died in the cavern. I then pulled the line to show I was not dead' "All grew still again, and I knew the man had gone for assistance. Then came the sound of voices ; I pulled in the line, and it brought me food. It took all the men who could work in the shaft nine hours to reach me. "A very large pine tree that stood near the shaft had been the cause of my misfortune. It had been dead a num ber of years, and the storm had blown it over. The terrible blow it had struck the ground had caused the cave. "Jack had wound the line around a bush, and tied himself so short that he was imprisoned outside as securely as I had been inside. He was taken to town, put in a large cage, and supplied with all the rabbit delicacies the market af forded. He, however, did not thrive, and the boys believing that he "pined in thought' voted to set him free. He was taken back to his old girdling grounds and liberated. "He not only saved my life, but be came the benefactor of all the rabbits in the neighborhood the miners re fraining from shooting any, fearing it might be him." San Francisco Golden Era. Ladies aad Yiaegar. Taken in moderation, there is no doubt that vinegar is lenetk-ial, but in excess it impairs the digestive organs. Experiments on artificial digestion show that if the quantity of acid be diminished, digestion is retarded ; if increased beyond a certain point diges tion is arrested. There is reason, there fore, in the vulgar notion unhappily too often relied on that vinegar helps to keep down any alarming adiposity, and that ladies who dread the disap pearance of their graceful outlines in curves of plumpness expanding into "fat" may arrest so dreadful a result by liberal potations of vinegar, but they can only so arrest it at the far more dreadful expense of their health. The amount of acid which will keep them thiu will destroy their digestive powers. Portal gives a case which should be a warning. "A few years ago a young lady iu easy circumstances enjoyed good health ; she was very plump, had a good apietite, and a complexion blooming with roses and lilies. She began to look upon her plumpness with suspicion, for her mother was very fat and she was afraid of becoming like her. Accordingly she consulted a woman who advised her to drink a glass of vinegar daily. The young lady followed the advice, and her plumpness diminished. She was delighted with the success of the experiment and con tinued it for more than a month. She began to have a cough ; but it was dry at its commencement, and was consid ered as a slight cold which would go off. Meantime from dry it became moist a 'I"" fever canieon.aud a diffi culty of breathing; her body became lean and wasted away, niirlit sweats, swelling of the feet and of the legs suc ceeded, and a diarrhu-a terminated her life." Therefore, young ladies, be boldly fat! Never pine for graceful sliiiiuess and romantic pallor, but if Nature means yon to le ruddy and rotund, accept it with a laughing grace, which will captivate more heart thau all the paleness of a circulating library. An Irishman returned from bis trav els gallantly compared his landlady to Vesuvius, because "she was a fine old crater." Nicopnlisis a small town in the south east of Russia, where the Caucasian blood mixes with the Russian, and pro duces very many remarkably line speci mens of female beauty. Among the most beautiful of the Wait ties of N'icopolis was l'lyana, the only daughter of a wealthy land-owner. Her father was in the habit, every year at naryesi time, to add to his force by engaging "people from Russia," as they say, meaning people from the interior. w no at mis season ot tne year seek re munerative labor in the more cultivated and wealthier districts of the south. one oi t nose people, r iivatiett, a handsome, stalwart young fellow, at tracted especial atteution. He seemed perfectly indifferent with regards to his gains and was always in the best of spirits, l'lyana soon became a willing listener when lie was praised, and til v atieff, who was not insensible to tfie charms of female beauty, soon evinced a marked partiality for her society. It was not lone ere their likinir for each other ripened into an affair of the heart and become the suhjectof remark. Nor did the young people attempt to conceal what they felt for each other, and Filv atieff went ltoldly to the father of hi lady-love and asked his blessing. But the fanner peremptorily refused: he was not going to give his daughter to a strolling lalxirer, he said. And all L'lyana s tears and entreaties were of no avail : her father was inflexible. and, in order to "put other thoughts in her head, he compelled her to a betrothal with a wealthy townsman. The betrothal was celebrated with great pomp. All were merry but l'ly ana; her thoughts were with Filyatie'ff, who gave her good cause of uneasiness. He had ceased to work, and now spent his time in either one pot-house or auother. He drank to assuage his grief ; but not long, tie soon took an aversion to schnapps a rare thing for a Knssian to do and then drink did not lesseu his irrief. He therefore foresworn thn pot-honse, and determined to go far away, where, concealed and forgotten, he could end his unhappy life. In this romantic frame of mind he bethought himself of Siberia, and determined to take the necessary steps to get there as soon as possible. With this object in view, he, one evening soon after dark, went to the principal bazaar of the town and tried one door after another nntil he found one he could force. He entered the well-filled shop, took what money ne found in the till, anil looked abont to see if any one came. Then he made a bundle of some of the goods, and again looked around to see if no one came to arrest the burglar. As he was still unobserved, he made a bright aiaub iu mo biii'i. m 1119 nan ixnru nv-u. and people cameand seized the supposed robuer. Un his trial lie simply declared that owing to his disappointment in love, he wanted to be sent to Siberia; that this, and this only, was his object iu breaking into the shop. The jurors were unanimous iu rendering a verdict of acquittal, which was received by a loud acclamatiou on the part of the spectators. The fanner was now compelled to relent. He broke off the engagement of his daughter with his wealthy neigh bor, and consented to her union with the romantic Filyatieff. Appleton's Journal. Mark Twain Chambermaid. Against all chambermaids of whatso ever age or nationality, I launch the curse of Batchelordom 1 Because : They always pat the pillows at the opposite end of the bed from the gas burner, so that while you read and smoke before sleeping (as is the ancient and honored custom ot batchelors), you have to hold your book aloft in an un comfortable position, to keep the light from dazzling your eyes. If they cannot get the light in an un comfortable position any other way. they move the bed. If you pull your trunk out six inches from the wall, so that the lid will stay np when they open it they always shove that trunk back again. They do it on purpose. They also put yonr boots into inac cessible places. They chiefly enjoy depositing them as far nnder the bed as the wall will permit It is because this compels you to get down in an un dignified attitude and make wild sweeps for them in the dark with the bootjack, and swear. They always put the match box in some other place. They hunt up a new place for it every day, and put a bottle or other perishable glass thing, where the box stood before. This is to cause you to break that glass thing, groping about in the dark, and get yourseii into trouble. They are forever moving the furni ture. When yon come in. in the night you can calculate on finding the bureau where the wardrobe was in the morn ing. And when yon come in at mid night or thereabout yon will fall over the rocking chair, and yon will proceed toward the window and set down in the slop tub. This will disgust yon. They like that No matter where yon put anything. they won't let it stay there. They will take it and move it the first chance they get They always save up the old scraps of printed rubbish yon throw on the floor, and stack them up carefully on the table, and then start the fire with your valuable manuscripts. And iney nse more nair ou uian any six men. Ther keen always coming to make yonr bed before you get up, thus de stroying your rest ana lnmcung agony upon yon, but after you get np they don't come any more till the next day. Taate la Drew. Far frnm beinir nf the opinion of t atnanne oi Aragon, -xuat uresnm time is wasting time," the woman, we are apt to tnink, wno nas not some natural taste in areas, some love vi atma .la1iolir in ttiA combina tions of colors, is deficient in a sense of the beautuul. as a wors: oi an a weu dressed woman is a study. That a love Ar .lru. natural anil that it has aomA Ul w vm mmMf - - advantages, is so plain as to be scarcely wortn recording- 1 L that it should engross every other taste; it ia nnlv the. rnnnette'a heart which, as Addison describes it is stuffed with "a flame-colored hood." From tne aavs oi Anne Boleyn, who varied her dress every day, and who wore a small ker chief over her round neck to conceal a -1. lIAm.n n.t . fnllinir aleevff to hide her aouoiy-tippeu nuie nnuer. dress has naa its piace in me nmn vi an Englishwoman. And it is well that it should be so, for the dowdy, be she young or be she old, is sure to hear of it from her husband, if she has not already done so fiom brothers and fancy cousins. Indifference, and conse quent inattention, to dressoften shows edantry, self-righteonsness, or indo ence: and, whilst extolled by the "unco gude" as a virtue, may be noted as a defect Every womanshould habitually make the best of herself. We dress our rooms with Hewers and make our tables gorgeous with silver, glass, and china should our wives be less attractive than all around themT Among the rich and great the love of dree pro motes taste, and fosters ingenuity and industry. 1HS VOO THAT UARRntD t OOP TO a Bbsieokd Cinr. The following story of tne sagacity of a dog is to be found in an old volume in the British Museum : When Duke Robert and Richard, Duke of Capua, besieged Palermo, which the furious Prince Gisolfe de fended, the sufferings of the inhabitants threugh hnnger and misery are de scribed by Monte Cassimo as resembling those experienced by the Jews dur'ng the siege of Jerusalem by the Romans. The interests of humanity required that an end should be put to the horri ble rule of Gisolfo, by winning the town, so that great sufferinar seemed una voidable. Two young men on this occasion, followed by a dog, contnved to escape from the besieged city, and came to where the Duke was snd begged oreaa, wmcn was Riven to them. The youths gave a third part, to their dog, and the dog that evening ran back to tne city, earned the bread to their father's house, placed it at his feet and then returned to the lads. The next day they had bread enoneh. and gave more to the dog, though they anew not weal ne nad done with it before, and the next evening the doe earned it to their lather, and the third evening likewise, and the father, be lieving that a Christian had sent him bread for the love of God, tied a label round the dog's neck, on which he wrote : "I thank God for these alms. and I cease not to pray to God for him." Witn tnia the dog returned, and when they had read the card they carried the dog, leaving it still hanging round its neck, to the duchess, but she would not believe their report However, she caused a little sack of bread to be fas tened to the dog's neck. lie loiteied about the place as if afraid of the people nntil the setting of the sun, when he passed out of camp and made his way safely into the city to the father's house, who on receiving the bag attached a card to the dog's neck, on which was written, "Greater thanks I render thee for these greater alms." Bearing this he returned and was strain presented to the Duchess, who loudly expressed her astonishment at the won derful cleverness of the dog. Its fame, however, led to its destruction. The story of its marvelous feats reached the ears of Prince Gisolfe, who caused a watch to be set for it at the city gates, it was captnred by the sentinels and cruelly put to death. lhe book from which the above is translated was printed in Florence, upwards of two hundred years ago. TniMBLi Making. The manufacture of thimbles is very simple, but singu larly interesting. Coin silver is mostly used, and is obtained by purchasing . coin dollars. Henoe it happens that tne pronts of the business are aflected instantaneously by all the variations in the nation's greenback promises to pay. The first operation strikes a novice as almost wicked, for it is nothing else than putting a lot of bright silver dol lars, fresh from the mint, into dirty crucibles, and melting them up into solid ingots. These are rolled out to the required thickness, and cut by a stamp into circular pieces of any re quired size. A solid metal bar of the size of the inside of the intended thim ble, moved by powerful machinery np and down in a bottomless mould of the outside of the same thimble, bends the circular disks into the thimble shape as fast as they can be placed nnder the descending bar. Once in shae, the work of brightening, polishing and decorating is done upon a lathe. First, the blank form is fitted npon a rapidly revolving rod. A slight touch of a sharp chisel takes a thin shaving from the end, another does the same on the side, and the rounds off the rim. A round steel roil, dipped in oil and f tressed upon the surface, gives it a ustrons polish. Then a little revolving steel wheel, whose edge is a raised or nament held against the revolving blank, prints that ornament just out side the rim. A second wheel prints a diflerent ornament around the center, while a third wheel with sharp points mikM thA inilentatinna on thA lower half an I anil nf thA thimtklo ThA inuiila ' is brightened and polished in a similar way, the thimble being held in a revolv ing mould. All that remains to be done is to boil the completed thimbles in soapsuds, to remove the oil, brush them up and pack them for the trade. TwaWTT Impolite Things. Loud and boisterous laughter. Reading when others are talking. Reading aloud in company without being asked. Talking when others are reading. Spitting about the house, smoking or chewing. Cutting finger nails in church. Leaving church before worship is closed. A want of respect and reverence for seniors. Correcting elder persons than your selves, especially parents. Receiving a present without an ex pression of gratitude. Making yourself hero of your own story. Laughing at the mistakes of others. Joking others in company. Commencing talking before others have finished speaking. Answering questions that have been put to others. Commencing to est as soon as yon get to the table ; and Not listening to what one is saying in company. How to Tam. If yon have the ability to amuse, talk often in company and in a way which shows that you understand what is said aronnd you. But do not talk long. In that case you are apt to tire your hearers. There are many persons wbo, though they have nothing to talk of, never know when to leave off talking. There are some who labor under so great and insatiable a desire for talking that they will even interrupt others when about to speak. We should in society never talk of our own or others' domestic affairs. Yours are of no interest to them, and theirs should not be to you ; besides, the sub ject is of so delicate a nature, that with the best intentions it is a chance if we do not make some mortifying mistake, or wound the feelings of some of the company. 8wxario. Cowper writes some line' which it would be worth while for every one to learn . It rhills mj blond to sear th hint Surra RudHT appaatod to oa ear tntt-na tboM. Maintain your rank. rnlirarUy 4im To ntml aettber pnli any wiae Y m would not ww upon iWo( drain : I lour nay aow avi your Vulganty and light talk should be shunned as leading to profanity. -Debts are no noisy, but they keep ... ...la " 'lr.A ia not loved be cause he is handsome, bnt handsome because he is neioveu. at saw menus with the bear but keep hold of your hatchet" A matter of course a horse race. Pride is precarious, but virtue is im mortal. He that boasts a multitude of friem's hath none. Some people look at everything, yet really see nothing. "Do not sing that song again," is the sarcastic title of a new song. Unpopular mnsio Thomas's concerts on the back yard fence. Northern proverb : "God created the world, but the devil made Iceland." The best way to keep out wicked thoughts is always to be employed in good ones. "I SAT, Bill, John is a fellow of great spirit, isn't he ?" "What John ?" "Why demijohn." The light of friendship is like the light of phosphorus seen plainest when all aronnd is dark. Figs are so easily cultivated in Film land that extensive orchards now exist in Sussex, and more are being planted. The open Polar sea which Dr. Kane's party claimed to have discovered, is fast proving itself a fact and not a myth. Wagner is described as the most nervous-looking man one can imagine, but with that grim setting of the mouth that betokens an iron wilt Some men mourn that they have made and broken so many resolutions. It is sad that you have broken them, but thank heaven that you have made them. Enemies spring up anywhere of their own accord. Friends are reared in the affection, and cease to be such as soon as they are removed from the conserva tory of the heart In an ordinary open fire grate, 75 per cent of the heat, resulting from the Aombustion of the fuel, goes up the chimney and is wasted, only 25 percent being radiated into the apartment. The spire of Strasbourg Cathedral is no longer the highest in Europe. The steeple of the Church of St Nicholas, at Hamburg, just completed, is 472 feet high, which is four feet higher than Strasburg. Switzerland turns nut about 1,0)1), 000 watches per annum. The industry is chiefly confined to the ca.itons of Nenfchatel, Berne, Van J and Geneva and gives employment to 15,241 men and 12,727 women. Pretty old boys in Europe. Gnizot died at eighty-seven, and Prince Ment schikoff at eighty-five is just taking a run from Russia to Faris. Ho is tho grandson of the first of the fan ily wbo made such delicious pastry that Peter the Great promoted him to politics and the Cabinet. The Duke of Cambridge has got the gout, and is going to resign the com mand of the British army, (jueen Vic toria once remarked to Lord Palmers ton that, "as a warrior, Cam is not a success." Nobody has ever had the courage to deny it His Grace's strong point is a rapacity for the sherry wine. The celebrated Tynan pnrple was derived from several species of marine snails, supposed to be principally Mu rex brandnri Purpura and tatiHns the latter being a kind of whelk still very common on the English coasts and in the Mediterranean. The liquor which ran le squeezed from this whelk is nearly colorless, but. by the action of light, becomes first of a citron tint, then pale green, emerald green, azure, red, and liually. in abont forty-eight hours, a magnificent purple. Excavations in the Coliseum at Rome show that the original floor is twenty feet below the modern level. The ex cavations have laid bare the immense corriders whence the wild beasts rushed to deadly combat, or human victims were led toslanghter. Even the month of the great dram, with part of its orig inal grating intact, has been found, and there is no longer any difficulty in understanding how the water could be drawn off which tl.Hi.leil the ring, and enabled it to be naed for the exhibi tion of the sea fights. Krupp's steel gnu, intended for the Austrian Government, has been tested by s government commission, who, af ter three days experiment, were highly satisfied with it. They propose to Krnpp s agent that half the guns re quired be cast at Essen, bnt that Herr Krnpp should divulge the process of manufacture so that the other half could be cast in Anstria. The agent, however, said that the secret could not be revealed under any circumstances. In competent military circles it is be lieved that the guns cannot be made without Krupp's assistance. The Patriarch of Antioch, at present in London, was taken recently to see the library of the Bntish and Foreign Bible Society. He contemplated the scene with silent wonder. Book after book was bronght to him to look at He was very much struck with the mode of reading Chinese down in columns, at first shook his head as it in donbt whether his informants were not de ceiving him. But nothing seemed to deiight him so much as Walton's Poly glot t There he saw, side by side, He brew and Greek, and Latin, and Arabic, and his own sacred Svriac. Ou leaving he shook hands warmly with the secre taries, and praised God for all he has seen and heard. There is in the Island of Skye, a min ister of one of the parish churches who occupies the pulpit which his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather have filled in succession, and who is training up a son to be his successor. Besides discharging the duties of the ministry in his parish, he is chairman of the School and Parochial Boards, road contractor for the district a noted breeders of Betters, which he supplies to the Southern markets, a knowing judge of cattle, and occupant of three large sheep farms in addition to his glebe. He is verging on three score, and vet be continues to discharge these multifarious duties and preach two sermons every Sandsy one in the Gaelic and the other in English. There is at least one blessing in being an nnedacated working man, for which that class cannot be too grateful. An English savant has shown that they never have the bay fever. He finds that this interesting disease is peculiar to the educated classes, and more com mon in proportioo to the spread of mental culture and the intensity of in tellectual occupation. Hiaexperiments lead him to the conclusion that the dis ease is due to the pollen of flowering plants ; bnt why this pollen should get into the educated nose in preference to hA iliwa not explain. If his theories be trne, it is appalling to think of the catarrhal possibilities involved in our pnblio sehoool system and the nasal ruin lurking in bookstores. t 'I 5 t . a "ii 'i : H MS ii I V .1 ?f1 i i J i (I i .a m ( ii :tl 1 p t a II' 1 r-TT- m-aw rri 'Ja.r-'wfc "" '