Newspaper Page Text
fykt §}t«Wuu*& gatytt.
Satablisiiod in. 1840. __1..... ~ . rrm B H. HESKY. Editor nud Proprietor. ^Oo7krtrar; 8100 for six months. the LEDGER HAS ABSORBED THE SOI 'l’H ERN JOURNAL AND WEEKLY CITIZEN Job Work of Evwy Description Done in Best Style and at Lowest Price*. I _ - - - -.— ■.- ——■— ■ ■■■PgPWMgggBBgggB -^ m inmlfutvfn A4r«HWa«italM. '* t r i | « i «-^1r Tla>« Me*. MoaM 1M Mon'. Mm. • i22 »• *o'** I Inch** • ;» »M jm UN M n » “ • « I» 1100 UM MN MM 4 “ * •* •W1IMMMMW44M * “ B BO 11 BO 1400 M W 14 10 Be *0 « “ 4 00 18 001 11 00 1000 40 00 40 00 Marriage notice* and death*, act ex ceediag alx line*, publlebed free. Al over alx line* charged for at regular ad vertUIng rate*. NKW ORLEANS. _ - «^" iVELEY, iolia Cotton Gins, Die Engines, faction Engines, i Corn Mills, y s Saw Mills. acuseW aterWbeela njectors, Ejectors, Steam Pumps, Belting, Hose, ^^V\Etc., Etc* EVERYTHING FERTAININQ TO \^^K^^\EtC* PLA5ITAT1M MACHINERY >Jk A SPECIALITY. 'v Jr V'n Send for Circulars and Prices T. P. GRAVEEEY, 16 UNION STREET. NEW (SRLEANS. - X ORDERS FOB FREEH. FIRST-CLASS DRY GOODS, FANCY GOODS, ETC., SENT TO E. H. Adams & Bro., WII.L RECEIVE THE Promptest and Most Careful Attention, As they do not deal in __ DAMAGED GOO DM, AUCTIO.H GOOD* OR JOB M» Their Rations are Sure to get Good \ alue. 594 and 538 Magazine Street, New Orleans. mnr31-3ra _ i ■ ■ ■ ' Ufo. T4 8t Charles Si A W01TDEEFT1L And SCIENTIFIC CISCDYERY You can get a pair of spectacle* that will keep your eyes in as good condition for ev «r after a* when first you use them. These Medicated Glasses have been thoroughly examined and analyzed by Prof Barger, the great French oculist, and Dr. Carl Hoi* lander, the famous Germau oculist, and pronounced as fat superior to any glavs as yet xnade, and recommended as the only glasses to be used to save tlie eye. American ocu lists claim that the Medical Glasses have no cq'gal, and can in some cases restore the eye topis original sight when used in time, and in no case can the eye become impair* ed by the use of these glasses, if properly adapted,<(or the following reason*. 1. The chemicals soften the light to the eye, completely doing away with that tire* aorne sensation that is experienced in using glasses fkfter one or two hours’ use. 2* The medicated properties contained in the glass make H as hard as a diamond. It will retain its polish and never become dull or dim, hence you will always ace through it as bright and clear as at first. ~ 1 The chemicals keep the glasses cold as ice—result is your optic nerveB are always coo, doing away with any feverish sensation to the eye 4. These glasses have no equal for night reading or sewing, With them you can sit up all night, and the light has no effect onphe eye, with no tiresome sensation whatev er, which necessarily continues to improve the eye. . Wesuit all eye* and warrant our work, or rnonev refunded. Persons living at a distance, desiring the Medicated Glasses, can be fitted by sending address with postage ■tamp. The Medicated Glasses can only be had at 74 St. Charles Street, a* we aaye no agents, nor do we employ peddlers. BEWARE OF COUNTERFEITS. NONE GENUINE UNLESS STAMPED “MEDICATED.” HERO. HOT7SAS, Crescent City Spectacle Co., ep30 ly 74 ST. CHARLES STREET. NEW ORLEANS. Sold in Brookhaven by L. L. SCHWAB, agent for Lincoln county.___ H.P. BUCKLEY, Watchmaker & Jeweler, 8 Camp Street, New Orleans, lias a large stock of Waltham Stem-winding Watches, at Lowest rrictB.<lec23-6io " (HKtPEST FURNITURE HOUSE IN THE SOUTH, WASHBURN’S PHOTOGRAPHIC PARLOUR AND FINE ART GALLMIY 109 Canal Street, New Orleans, La. The largest and finest Photographic Establishment in the United State*. A ctwdial invitation to visit it is extended. The work produced in this establishment is far super ior to tiny made in the South, and equal in every respect to that of the celebrated galler ies in New York, Paris or Berlin. An additional studio just erected on roof of our bull diug enables us to fill orders for copying and enlargements at short notice. Fortran painters can have the use of our mammoth silver camera to make sketches and draw ings Enlargements made for the trade. Prices moderate. Send for my little book “How to Dress and when to come for Photograps,” free. WASHBURN, Photographic Artist, i09 Canal at. N.O. HAGAN’S Marble And Granite Works. * Comer Camp and Lafayette Streets. Opposite Lnfnptlr Square, New Orleaaa TOMBS, MONUMENTS, HEADSTONES, TABLETS, COUNTERS, TABUS,MID BOARDS; ALSO A LARGE STOCK OF Marble, Slate and Jron Mantles and Crates. Special Attention Paid to Country Orders. *» «* NEW ORLEANS. .------■-*-» Mmmm •€ Ike Kf« Mk Iw. DR. C. BEARD, DQITLIIT AND AtRIlT, 142 Canal Street, New Orleans, La. Office Hours from 10 a. m. to 3 p. m. MjTA Hue selection of Artificial Eyes. feb24-tf A. B. Griswold & Co., 119 Canal Street,N. 0. AMERICAN WITCH EOMPM’S SILVER WATCHES, SlOto 20, accord ing to tirade. Gold Watches $10 to 75,according to grade. DIAMONDS I At such moderate prices tluit the purchas er can always get back the bulk of his rnouev for then). Silverware, Plated Ware, Rronses, docks. Table Cutlerv, Pocket Knives, Scissors and military goods. Send for catnlogue. febl7 LOUIS GIMBLE, OF THE I1PPK CITY SUM STMB, 554 & 556 Magazine St., New Orleans, Is offering Great Bargains in / LADIES, GENTLEMEN & CHILDRENS BOOTS AND SHOES, —A I.SO— Hats, Caps & Trunks. Orders fro))) the country will receive prompt attention. Send for prices. oet28 ly Wm. Reinerth, JOBBER IN Fur. Wool and Straw Hats. i r 30 Chartres St., New Orleans. |®“Campcaehy Hats a Specialty."®! _ dcc23 ly _____ SPRING OPENING AT GODGHAUX'S, 81 and 83 Canal Street, XF,W OBLE4N!, - - - L*. On Monday1 March 23th, we opened more than 60 styles in JUn'sand l'aiith's Clothing;, comprising tile latest novelties and most FASHIONABLE GOODS, in medium and .light weights. The entire line is the Largest nnd llandsnmeat we have ever displayed, to w hich we invite inspection. Our stock of DIAGONAL WORSTEDS, TWEEDS, SERGES AND CASSIMERES, cut in various styles, is large anil varied. Our assortment of lloi's and Children*» Clothing; is complete, and will be kept so through the season. Novelties in Furnishing Goods and Hats. LEON GODCHAUX, 81 and 83 Canal Street, New Orleans, La. N. B.—Samples and instructions for self measurement, willingly sent on application. marl7-ly_ __ Chafe & Powell, COTTON FACTORS AND COMMISSION! NHKCIIANTK, No, 6 Perdido st. P, O. Box 602, NEW ORLEANS, LA. oot-19 J ABBOTT, WITH MAY & VAUHGHT, Wholesale Grocers 44 Common St., New Orleans. To my Friends and Customers—I have this day associated myself with the well known grocery house of May A Vaught, where I will be pleased to serve them with goods at the lowest market prices. J. ABBOTT, sepl6 ly Late of Flahs, Preston & Co. T. W. WATTS, DEALER IN Choice Groceries, WINES AND LIQUORS, SM IIA N PA HI' NTH RET, (Corner Calliope,) NEW ORLEANS LA. feb3tf Hansell & Co., Manufacturers of Saddles, Harness, Bridles, Collars, and all Goods in the Saddlery line. 119 Common Street, New Orleans. dec23 ly LOUIS HALL LOUIS OOOK SPORTMEN’S EMPORIUM. HALL&COOE, No. 24 St. Charles Street, SEW ORBKANS, .. LI. DEALERS IN GUNS, RIFLES AND PISTOLS, Sporting and Fishing Tackle of every dosrri* tlon. Powder, Shot. Sheila and Fixed Amu ni Hon ofall kind!. The Repairing Department is under the per sonal supervision of Mr. Louis Cook. Guns re bored to shoot close. Mall Orders particularly attended to. P. O. Box 93T. sepSO ly Agents for the Baker Guns. illAROAKET HAUUHERT. BEMARD KIAVTS Margaret Haughery and Co. MARGARET’S STEAM AND MECHANICAI B ASSET, Nos. 74. 76 A 78 NEW LEVEE STREET Jan-29 m New Oreeawh. La. Prize Medal Paris Exposition 1878 AWARDED TO AIiPH. walz, FOE HI8 MALAKOF BITTERS, 1 26 Conti Street, NEW ORLEANS. Sold in Brookhaven at Smith’s Saloon. W. H. SMITH, Steam Boiler Manufacturer 117 Front st., between Notre Dame and Girod, New Orleans. Hoe, Cylinder and Low Pressure Boitee « all sixes. Steamboat, Steamship and plan tation repairs promptly attended to. Residence—459 Third street, betweei Franklin and Liberty._ms*31-ly_ J.GK XVT&35, Practical SlRtev 'Jamv*** D^CTi“ ’t AMERICAN A ENGLI81 e Slates, Ridge Tiles, Fire Brick I Cement, Lime.Sand and Health Wahs hMssfistawb1? ■t i*, % • .. * * % liters Wraaded. “Steady, boys, steady! Keep your arms ready, 3od ouly knows whom we may meet here! Don’ let me be taken— I’d rather awaken IVmorrow in—no matter where— rhan He in that foal prison over there. Step slowlyl Speak lowly! The rocks may have life; Lay me down in the hollow; We are out of the strife. By Heaven the loeman may track me ia blond, For this bole in my breast is outpouring a flood. No! no surgeon for me; he can give me no aid; The suroeon I want ia a pickaxe and spade. What Morris, a tear? Why, shame on you man. I thought you a hero; but since you began To whimper and cry, like a girl in her teens, By George! I don’t know what the deni it means. Weill well! I am rough, 'tie a very rough life - This life of a trooper—but yet I’m no fool! I knew a brave man end friend from * foe; And, hoys, that yon love me, know, Sot a ssert it grand, - When they came down the hiM ovenahwgh ing and sand? But we stood—did we not?—-fike immova ble rockj Unheeding their balls and repelling their Bhock. Did you mind the loud cry, When, as turning to lly, Our men sprang upon them determined to die? Oh, wasn’t it grand? God help the poor wretches who fell in the %■“; , No time was then given for prayers or for flight. They fell by the seore, in the crush, hand to hand, 4ml thov niimrlpil llipir lilnotl with the sloughing and sand. Good heavens! this bullet hole gapes like a grave! A curse on the aim of the traitorous knave! Is there never a one of you knows how to pray? Or speak for a man as his life ebbs away? Pray! Pray! “Onr Father! Our Father!” Why don’t you proceed? Can’t you see I am dying? Great God, how 1 bleed! Ebbing away! the light of day is turning to gray.' Pray! Pray! “Our Father in Heaven”—boys, tell me the rest, While I staunch the hot blood from this hole in my breast. There’s something alsint forgiveness of sin, Put that in, put that in—and then I’ll follow your words and say amen. Here, Morris, old fellow, gel hold of my hand, And, Wilson, my comrade—oh! wasn't it grand When they came down the hill like a thun der charged cloud, And wereseattcred like mist by our brave little crowd? Where’s Wilson—my cmnradc—here,stoop down your head; Can’t you say a short prayer for the dying and the dead? “Chrst-God, who died for sinners all, Hear thou this suppliant wanderer's cry, Let not e’en this poor sparrow fall Unheeded by thy gracious eye; Throw wide the gates to let him in, Aud take him pleading to thine arms; Forgive, O Lord, his life-long sin, And quiet all his fierce alarms.” “God bless you, my comrade, for singing tint* hyrns, It’s the light in my path, when my sight has grown dim. I am dying—bend down, till I touch you once more; Don’t forget me, old fellow—God prosper the war! Confusion to our enemies! Keep hold of my hand— And float our dear flag* o’er a prosperous land. WILD BILL OF MISSIDSIW Reading of the discovery, recent ly, of a wild man in the Antelope range of mountains in this State, recalls to memory the capture of a wild white human being in the swamps bordering the great river of the West below the city of Natchez in the State of Mississippi, in the year 1824, who had grown from childhood up to man’s estate with out seeing a single person of his own species until he was found by his captors. Believing that the in cidents of the story will prove of interest to the readers of the Ex aminer, they are herewith given. In Wilkinson county, in the State above named, just above the old town of Fort Adams, there is a strip of country known as Old River, which was seldom visited by the pioneer settlers of that region and than only for the purpose of fishing and hunting, as both game and fish were there to be found in abun dance, In that year a party of hunters to their astonishment dis covered the naked footprints of a human being leading through the mud into the water of the old bed of this river. Their curiosity was the more strangely excited from the fact that no one resided in the im mediate vicinity of that place, and the settled portions were but sparoe lv populated. To discover who it was that made the footprint they hunted several days in succession with their dogs, and finally brought to bay IK A DROVE OP WILD HOGS, a tall, sinewy human being in a state of perfect nudity. He bran if .i.„j 4,:n i.nml « ofmit. tttio.k. with which he defended himself against the dogs, the hogs rallying around him, seemingly for his pro** tection. He gave utterance to no intelligble sounds, only yells of rage and screeches. They bound and carried him to the town of Wood ville, the seat of justice of the coun ty, some twenty miles distant. He was in every respect a veritable being, with a good coating of hair over his body, which, it is to be in ferred, nature furnished all her creatures, otherwise unprotected, to shield them from the elements. He had lost the power of speech, which indicated that he bad been left to bias self when very young. By kind treatment he soon became domesti cated, his faculty of speech was re stored, and he gave this account ol ’ himself: When quite a boy,—sup posed some six or seven years—bn I father (presumably) came down tb« - Mississippi river from sojqe of thr Western States or Territories in t » flatboat with his mother, his eldei sister and himself, and landed at the mouth of Old River, near when the town of Fort Adams now stands , where they remained for Severn days. One day the father killer his mother and sister with an ax I Instigated by fear the boy ran of and concealed himself in a hollo* i log. His fetter hunted him, callinj him “Billy.” but he remained silen in his place of concealment. Bein< * unable to find the boy, be loosener the ft&tboat from Us fastenings, am Boated down tbs river, as was sup posed, to New (Means. Urt ALONE, it so teudor an me, in a wild, unin Habited section, toe law of necessity bccame to him the law of existence, Flic climate being mild made it fa I’orable to him. He selected a mag nolia, or bay trM( hollow at the base, which, in thal section, grew to great size, and made himself a bed of leaves and masft, where he stayed it night and took shelter when it rained. For feed, he subsisted on frogs, tadpoles, such fish as ho could catch, and the wild fruit that grew there in Summer. Thus he man aged to live until the time of his capture. The habits of this unfor tunate being, amdtthe changes which took place in him (torn the time ins intellect began to develop by com ing in contact with civilization, is interesting to contemplate. At first, the emotions of shame he knew nothing of, and It was difficult to make him wear clothing when the weather was warm. Whenever hnn - ger pinehed. hi&y 'b®d he conld ob tain nothing else to satisfy his ap petite, he would return to his origi nal diet of frogs, raw fish, etc. dn amusing instance of this kind oc curred on one occasion. It was the fortune of the writer of this to live in the family who had “Wild Bill” in charge. On one Saturday he, with Bill, each on a horse, with a bag of corn, were sent to mill some miles in the country. Being de tained by the miller until evening. Bill became hungry. Returning home, lie heard A FROG CROAKING IN A LAGOON by the wayside. Instantly lie snranrr from his horse and cautious ly waded into the water, stooping until it reached his chin, so as not to alarm the frog. Guided by its croaking on the opposite bank, he moved slowly until he came within reach of it, and darting forth his hand, he seized the frog, and taking it by the legs, tore them asunder and ate it with a relish. For a long time he was irresponsible, and re quired to be in charge of some one to keep him out of mischief and trouble. On one notable oeeasion Mrs. Hammett, his guardian, wished to pay a visit to some of her lady friends in the town of Woodvillc, and her son, who was generally charged with the task of look ing after Bill, being absent, she locked him up inside the house. Her return being delayed until evening, Bill found the atmos phere of the room oppressive, and denuded himself of his clothing. Being hungry, lie concluded to do his own cooking, and endeavoring to do what he had seen others do in this line, he put into a skillet a lit tie of every kind of food he could find in the house—hog’s lard and ground coffee mixed in—and put ting it on the fire stirred it until he thought it was sufficiently cooked. When Mrs. Hammett returned, ac companied by some of her lady nfefgTlbors, and unlocked the door, she found Bill seated on the floor near the hearth with the skillet be fore himu lifting its contents with bGth hands to his mouth; and ex pecting chastisement, he backed in to a corner, licking his lips with his trtnarn/» Iff* was ne^I V FOND OF SWEET THINGS, and particularly of strong drinks if they were sweetened. For a drink of sweetened whisky he would at tempt anything. At one time he was promised a glass of whisky and sugar if he would whip General Joor, who, in full feather, was mus tering the county militia according to the old manner of doing such things annually. To obtain the promised glass, Bill stealthily came up behind him, took him by the hair of the head and bore him into the dust on the street. Finding himself thus assailed, General Joor drew his sword and pierced Bill through the thigh. From this wound he never fairly recovered. He was very agile and fast ot foot. He could climb a tree with surprising quickness, swim and manage a horse with dexterity. It was with him as with a child From the time of his capture he knew not right from wrong actions until he was taught, and until his intellect expanded and he began to compre hend his true position in society, he sorrowed over the reflection. He sickened and difed in New Orleans in the year 1829, while in charge of gentleman who undertook t# exhib it him for money.—L. P. II. in San Francisco Examiner. ▲ Wife by Fake Pretenses. Panama, Chautauqua county, N. Y., is as much exited over a home made romance asPanama down to the isthmus over the canal project. Up at the little Panama two young people who belolg to wealthy faraT lies, have just b(tn married under the most pecular circumstances The girl was engaged to be married on the twentv-sevnth ult. to an ea tiraable young gentleman. At a party given one fay last week a re jected suitor, wlp appeared to take bis set back witj perfect coolness and good nature; asked the young lady to rehearsejphe marriage cere mony with him, n order that she might be well ported when the time came for giving her hand to his friendly rival: Administer who was present was asked to assist in the rehearsal, and tb^girl jokingly con sented. The mferriage was gone through, the promr responses made by the principles in the presence ol a crowd of amused spectators and the pair prononneed man and wife (in jest) by the minister. Then the ran began. The young man claim ed that he was lawfully married, and acknewledged the rose he had resorted t» get his bride. The min ister saw the part he had been un wittingly bade to perform, and bad to acknowledge that in the eye of the law, if was a legitimate marri age. Thegirl was frantic when she realize! the full extent. of tb« i joke. Slu refuses to live with tin , man. A genfeman who is fond of her* scs attetded church where then 1 was a senewhat prolonged servicj ' before iiey came to tl»e sermon ; ‘‘How were you pleased with tin ; servico?" asked a friend. “O ver] : much,though it did strike mo tlia I there jfas a good deal of scoring be i fore tfey got off” ▲n Audience of One. In describing these scenes Mr, Emmet unconsciously assumed the character of “Frits,” and danced around the broker’s office as grace fully as though he was in costume. He was asked to how large an au dience he had ever performed. “Well, I don’t know,” he replied. There were nearly 'fifteen hundred persons in the Grand Opera House last evening. Of course, as it was a first night, some of it was paper. But my share ofthe receipts was more than $800—that is sixty per cent of the gross receipts at the box office. I think I played to over two thousand people in London once. The smallest audience I ever bad was in Columbus, Ohio. The managers had been trying to intro duce matinees, but with not much success. Joe Jefferson, Denman Thompson, and some of the big ■tars had gone through the mill, and the audiences had been so small that they had shied, and refused to tajee the gate. The mcncy had been returned at the box office, and the disappointed ticket buyers had de parted determined never sW> te patronize a matinee it CoInmbuA The afternoon business was at Its lowest ebb when I struck the town. After two or three performances tht posters announced a matinee. 1 went to the theatre at 2 o’clock that afternoon, aud found my company skylarking behind the curtain, in their everyday suits. I looked out in the auditorium. There was just one man in the theatre. He sat clear back in the parquet. It was as much as I could do to outline him in the darkness. I went out tc the box office. “Did that man pay for bis ticket?” I asked. “Yes fifty wrntu" the treasurer renlied. “The manager told me to return him his money and close the theatre. “No, you won’t,” I said, “I have nevei disappointed an audience when I’m sober, and I don’t propose to do sc now. We’ll play for him.” I went into the parquet, introduced mysell to the man, aud thanked him foi his attendance. I told him that as he had thought enough of me tc come and see me and pay fifty cents for the privilege, he should have as good a performance as though the house was packed. I then went be hind the curtain aud requested the company to dress. “Great C.esar! Joe,” one of them said, “you ain’t a going to play to that one man arc you?” “Yes, I am,” I replied. “He’s paid his money, aud he shall have his money’s worth.” “Oh, the dev il!” broke in another member of the company, “I’ll pay his fifty cents and you let him go.” I told them that the performance must go on as usual, and I warned each one that anv attempt to guy the audience 01 any failure to play a part in full would be a signal for s discharge. “Well, the orchestra played an overture aud the curtain arose,” Fritz continued. “I walked down to the footlights. I invited the au dience to come forward and take a front seat, where be eoafd see and be seen. He thanked me, and set tled himself in the front row. I suggested that a little generous ap plnuse thrown in where he thought the actors deserved it would serve i to inspirit them and warm them tc their work. He seemed to appreci ate the situation and agreed to give ne ell flip pnpnnrnirpTnpnt. Chet, hf thought we deserved. The perfor mance begnn. I don’t think I ever played better. I threw myself heart and soul into the character, and sang the ‘Lullaby’ so tenderly that the entire audience was in tears. He called for an encore. I told him that we rarely gave an encore, but as it was an extraordinary occasion he should have one. He npplaudef liberally at times where no applause was deserved, and again failed to applaud where applause was de i served. At such times I called his attention to the omission, and ask ed whether on reflection he did not really think he had made a mistake. A hint was sufficient. He would clap his hands as though perfectly enchanted and shout ‘Bravo!’ like an Italian over Salvini. The com pany paid no attention to him bul went on with the performance as regular as clock work. Between the acts, however, one or two ol them evinced a disposition to go out into the auditorium and mingle with the audience. I set my face against it and they refrained. At the close of the second act the manager en tered the theatre. He had been out fora walk. He seemed dumbfoun ded at seeing the house brilliantly lighted, and the orchestra playing soberly to one man. But he was more astonished when the curtain arose and the performance was re sumed with as much unconcern as though there were a thousand dol lars in the house. But be had as eye to business. He sent word tc the newspaper reporters, and ft. hall dozen of thum arrived in time foi the last act. No actor ever receives] better newspaper criticism. Some of them were over a column long. It turned out that the audience was .1 ... .a . _ . • _ XI] .»_ tiiC ununi ui u nwjfpui uuun iu minu igan, and very wealthy. On the fol lowing night he gave the whole com pany a banquet at the leading ho tel. He entertained ua as hand somely as we had entertained him. Just a year afterwards I announced another matinee at Columbua. It wai well advertised, and the house wai packed to (suffocation. I took it over $1,200. My sense ot duty t< that one man, who had invested th« small sum of half a dollar, had re turned me a golden harvest. The cotton mills in actual opera tion in the State of Georgia an paying from twelve to fifty per ceni dividends annually. The whole o the capital invested in manufacture! in that State is exempted from mu nicipal, county and Stato taxatioi for ten years. A citizen of Richmond, Virginia being asked in London bow hii town bad flourished since tho fal of the Southern Confederacy, repli ed: “Oh, very well; we live o» re< herrings and glorious recollections.’ A man in a Pennsylvania towr has twenty»nine children. Stran i gers passing the house on washini days are at a loss to determin ! whether it is a school or a laundrj --- Do not herald the sacrifice yo ■ make for each other’s tastes, habit and preferences. Jfiisctibmg. The World’s Hallways. In the years 1871 the total miles of railway in the United States was 60,283; in 1875 the tgnree were 74,069—an increase of 24 per cent, in four years. On the first of Jan uary 1881, we had in operation 96,604 miles of railway. The in crease from 1871 to 1881 was 33, 421 miles, or 58 per cent, on the entire mileage in 1871. It is stated on good authority that the United States has more miles of railway in operation than all the rest of the world. Asiatic and South Ameri can statistics are wanting. At the close of 1879 the mileage of Eng land and Europe was stated as fol lows: * Milas, England.. 17,688 Prunes. 1446# Germany.... 18,6(10 Austria. 10,780 All others.8.050 Enieaean total.71,MO cKada.\7......7.. .....ljSj Australia andNew Zealand.8,68# India.6.500 Peru and Chili.1,500 Argentine Bepublie.1,360 Brasil. 506 Other South Amerioan countries.. 150 Africa. 300 Total.14,532 We have, then, as follow*: Uuited States.93,704 All other oountriea.86,472 Total miles.180,176 PROPORTION OF OCR RAILROADS TO OTHER COCNTRIES. i lie nines 01 railways in me uni ted States on January 1, 1881, were 7232 more than the miles in all the rest of the world at the close of 1879. Since then some new roads have baen constructed in India, Guate mala and Europe, and some old lines extended, but, in all, not enough to make up the difference of 7232 miles that our reports placed us ahead -January 1, 1881. We laid down 7027 miles of new road in the year 1880, and are in the way of exceeding that number in 1881. Yet, with all this good showing, we are not nearly so well supplied with railway facilities as some other countries. England has 1 mile of road for every 7 square miles of her territory. France 1 miles, and Austria, 1 to 121. We have but 1 to 43 square miles. How ever, it is to be considered that about two-thirds of our area are as yet in the wilderness. Ohio, Massa chusetts, Illinois, Pennsylvania, New York, Connecticut, Rhode, Is land, have as much railway to the square mile as England; some of them more. The average cost of railways per mile is stated on good authority as follows: United States $57,000; England $201,750; Switzerland $95, 800 Europe $111,500. The total cost of the 93,704 miles of railway in the United States is set at 4,764,510,000; of the 17,636 miles in England, $3,588,020,000. The great difference in cost is ac counted for by reason of the greater charges in England and Europe for right of way than in the United States. Some of the English roads on this account have cost as high as *3hu,uw per mile, in insu the English roads carried 500,000,000 passengers, against 200,000,000 for all the roads in the United States. This is on railroad report authori ty, but cannot be true as to the United States. Our passenger traffic on 90,000 miles of road must have been much over 200,000,000. The tonnage and gross receipts on American loads were greater than England’s. The account stands: 1880. Tonnage Gross receipts. America.... 180.000,000 *529,000,000 England.... 212,000,000 308 000.000 Europe.696,810,590 The tonnage for Europe is not available. The gross receipts of all European roads exceeded onrs $67, 801,500 or 12; per cent. Our gross receipts exceeded those of the En glish roads by $22,040,000 or over 70 per cent. But the receipts of the English roads per mile were nearly three times as high as those of the American roads. The figures are: English, $17,450; American, $6,280 mile. The receipts on the Euro pean roads were $9,750 per mile.— Chicago Timet. A New Vice. A number of persons more or less prominent in different walks of life have died in this city within a few months from the direct effect, it is said, of hypodermic injections of morphine. The effect of morphine under the skin is described as pe culiarly and wonderfully agreeable. ’ A delicious languor steals over the frame, the senses are wrapped as in a voluptuous walking dream, and a most joyous consciousness of perfect yet fascinating repose softly over flows the mind. Even strong men ouu nuuicu untc wucuvij tuuuu it Lard to resist its allurements, and Lave not been able to resist its bea titudes without arousing all their will. On this account some physi cians will not administer or pre scribe morphine under any circum 1 stance, fearing the consequences to 1 their patients. Not a few women of the iner type have been wrecked by ' the habit, and many men, profee 1 sional and commercial, are steadily ruining tbemselyes by ita indul gence. It waa baited as avgfeat bleating once, and so it la, properly regulated; bat like to maty bles 1 slugs, it assy readily be converted ^ into a corse. ^ Soalaof Titian. A writer in Chambers’ Journal, who haa traveled in the Western States, has discovered the scale by which titlee are given: A speaker at aa Americaa “Con vention/’belng mM1-'1—d « “Colo , nel,” declarSd he was not area a I Captain. > “Don’t you live in Miseouri?” he naked. He owaad that he did and in a, . house with two chimneys, r “Then I was right,” exclaimed 5 the man. Over there, if a man has three chimneys on his honse, he’s a general; if two, he’s a colonel; if on ) ly one he's a major, and if he livee i in a dng-out and haa no chimney, he’s a captain anyhow.” A most remarkable accident hap pened at the Hale A Norcross mine fast night. A cage with six men was coming up the shaft at 11 o’clock—the hour for changing shifts. When about six handred feet from the bottom, at a point where there is an irregular place ih the guides, the cage suddenly lurch ed to one side, throwing the men to the other. Patrick Holland, who was on the outside, Was crowded off. Instead of falling to the bot tom and being dashed to pieces, he was safely lodged on a wall plate, rhe other men on the cage suppos ed he had fallen into the sump, of course. When they reached the surface they got the usual sack and boxes and started back to the samp to gather np the fragments of the body. As they approached the place where the man was thrown off, they heard a voice below them tel ling them to go slow. They did not know what to make of this •discovery, never supposing T1.«r Holland to be any All than at the bottom, saw him safe on hfs nar ' j could seareefy be* y ofjtwto baa ascended a shaft kb /» how rapidly the wall plates Bit. >y when the lantern is held so •a to bring them to view. The cage from which Holland was thrown was coming up at the usual rate of speed. How the man could possi bly have been lodged on one of these pieces of timber without be ing jammed by the cage or knocked off as it went past him is a wonder. The wall plate is a square timber, fourteen by sixteen inches, so that there was very little standing room for Holland while he was waiting for the cage to come down and res cue him. If the shaft had been so light that he could took down any considerable distance of the six hundred feet between him and the bottom, he would scarcely have had the nerve to cling to his narrow footing. The darkness of all min ing shafts is a point in favor of the miners, preserving their coolness when placed in a ticklish position. A couple of pumpmen will throw a foot wide plank across a shaft two thousand feet from the bottom. The darkness of the shaft prevents the thought of the awful abyss below from being constanly present. A Remedy for Divorce*. Marry in your religion. Never both be angry at ouce. Never taunt with the past mistake. Let a kiss be the pi elude of a rebuke. Let self-abnegation be the great est earthly blessing. “I forgot," is never an acceptable excuse. If you must criticise let it be done lovingly. Make marriage a matter of moral judgment. Marry into a family which you have long known. Never make-a remark at the ex pense of the other. Never talk of one another, either alone or in company. Give your warmest sympathy for each other’s trials. If one is angry, let the other part the lips for a kiss. Neglect the whole world beside rather than one another. The very facility is in the mutual cultivation oi useiuiness. Never speak loud to one another unless the house is on Are. Let each strive to yield oftenest to the wishes of the other. Always leave home with loving words, for they may be the last. Marry into different blood and temperament from your own. Never deceive, for the heart once mislead can never trust again. It is the mother who molds the character and Axes the destiny of the child. Never And fault unless it is per fectly certain a fault has been com mitted. Let all your mutual accommoda tions be spontaneous, whole-souled and free as the air. A hesitating or glum yielding to the wishes of the other always grates upon the loving heart. They who marry for physical characteristics or cxternnl consid erations will fail of happiness. Consult oue another in all that comes within the experience, obser vation or sphere of the other. Never reAect on a past action which was done with a good motive and with the best judgment at the time. The beautiful in heart is a million times of more avail, as securing do mestic happiness, than the beauti ful in person. James Gordon Bennett to Visit the North Vole. „—i -««nrgr the stories current in New York is one that James Gor don Bennett is seriously contempla ting an Arctic expedition. Larry Jerome, who is in Europe with him, has recently written to a friend that while Bennett is enjoying himsell arnntlv ma ■ tnaatnr a hunt HflTTlP where in England, yet ho ia verj much depressed and anxious ovei the Arctic expedition which h« equipped and sent out in the name of the Herald. He conceives it t< be his duty to fit out another expe dition in search of the lost one, and to take command of ft'himself. He has already telegraphed to stop Work on the new yatch he contem plated building in this country and thinks that the money he proposed to expend in that way shall be de voted to the building of a vessel constructed with a view of encoun tering the ice of the Northern seas. Already he has bad some interview with Sketch ship builders on the subject Therefore the news that Bennett has seriously entered upon the new project may he expected at any time. It is characteristic ol Bennett that execution follows close ly upon the heels of conception. When achild begins to read it be comes delighted with a newspapei because it reads of names and thinga which are familiar, and it will progress accordingly. A news papier, in one year, is worth a quar ter’s schooling to a child. Everj father must consider that informa tion is connected with advancement San Francisco has sixteen broou factories managed by Chinese. * h gne $tnsttte, TholSabit ofielfCon troh If there is one habit above all others which is deserving of cut* tivation it is that of self-control. In fact, it includes so much that is of value and importance in life that it may almost be said that, in pro portion to its power, does the man obtain his manhood and the woman her womanhood. The ability to identify self with the highest parts of opr nature, and to bring all the lower parts into subjection, or rather to draw them upward into harmony with the best that we know, ia the one central power that supplies vitality to all the rest. How to devolop this in the child may well absorb the energy of every parent; how to enlivate it in him self may well employ the wisdom and enthusiasm of every youth. Yet it is no raysterioas or own pli cated path that leads to this g oal. The habit of self control ia but the accumulation of continued aewlof self-denial for a wortny object; i< .is bat the repeated autbo rahipofthe > reason over the impulses, of the judgment ovtr the inclinations, o< the sense of duty ovtr (fee desires. He who has acquired this habit,who cap govern taimself intelligently, without painful effort, and without any fear of revolt from his appetites or passions, has within him the source of all real power and of all true happiness. The force and energy which he hath pat forth day dy day and hour by hour, is not ex hausted, nor ever diminished; on the contrary, it has increased by use, and has become stronger and keener by exercise; and athough it has already completed its work in the past it is still his well-tried, true anti powenui weapon lor iu ture conflicts in higher regions. Praying for Others. It does seem strange that we, who are Christians, do not appreciate our blessed privilege that God has given us—namely, that of] prayer— more than we do. I heard a preacher say, not long ago, “Wo think it a great privilege to pray for ourselves. Alas! for Christian sel fishness. God has given us a great er—to pray for others.” Just to think how many wo could help by praying'for them, when it is utterly impossible for us to help them in any other way, God has given so many precious promises In his word to encourage us in prayer. “Whatsoever ye shall ask la prayer, believing ye shall receive.” And “if ye shall ask anything in my uame, I will do it.” “They who seek the throne of grace Find that throne in every place; If we live a life of prayer God ia present everywhere." I know we] would all be so much happier if we would think and talk more about our blessed hope than we do. There are some who are very near and dear unto us, and it would make our hearts rejoice more than anything else to see them come out on the Lord’s side. Some one has said, “Pray for whom thou lovest; thou wilt never have any comfort of his friendship for whom thou dost not pray.” “Yes, pray for whom thou lovest; if un counted wealth were thine— The treasures of the boundless deep, the riches of the mine— Thou could’st not to thy cherished friends a gift so dear impart a .1. - _ * 1__a l 1 . a tta tuv «.«**• ui.nvuu.tivu a uci ing heart.” — « -a • --- Home Love. 1 Home love is the best love. The love that you are born to ia the the sweetest you will ever have on earth. You, who are so anxious to escape from the home-nest, pause a moment and remember this is so. It is right that the hour should como when you, in your turn, should be come a wife and mother and give the best love to others, but that will be just it. Nobody—not a lover, not a husband—will ever be so ten der or so true as your mother or your father. Never again, after strangers have broken the beautiful bond, will there be anything so sweet as the little circle of mother, father and children, where you were cherished, protected, praised and kept from harm. Yot may not know it now, but you will know it some day. Whomsoever you may marry, true and good though he may be, will, after the love days are over and the honeymoon has waned, give you only what you deserve of love or sympathy—and usually much less, never mor% You must watch ami be wary, lest yon lose that love which came in through the eye because the one who looked thought you beautitul. But those who bore you, who loved you when you were that dreadful little object, a small baby, and t hought you ex quisitely beautiful and wonderfully brilliant—they do mrb caie1 fcr ltora that are fairer and forms that are more graceful than yours. You are their very own, and so better te them than all others. Sweet Obedience. A beautiful illustration of what it is to “become as little CDiinren in the kindom of Christ, was lately given. A class of little ones hail prepared for the services of chil dren’s day. Each one was supplied with a basket of flowers to present as a floral offering in one of the exercises of the evening. By an oversight ons basket was missing. One of two sisters, who stood together, was asked to give her basket to another, and allow her sister's flower’s to represent them both. A shade of disappoint ment passed, over the sweet face. “Did papa say so?” she asked. “Yes, papa said so,” was the re Without soother word she gave up her treasure cheerfully, even smiling as she did it. Sweet obe dience! Dear fellow-Christians, conld we but yield as cheerful, loy ing an acquiescence to what our Heavenly Father asks of us, how much richer would be onr present inheritance in that kingdom, the benefits of which are promised io those who “become as little cbil dren." Hope is like the sun, whicbaa we journey toward it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us. Nature has written a letter of i credit on some men’s faces which is honored wherever it is presented.