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The new pontiff is of a patrician and
long lived family. He is the youngest
of four fro there, the eldest of whom, a
bachelor, is eighty-four. The second,
now seventy-six, is married, and has four
aons and tpo daughters, who all live at
Carpineto. The third brother is a learned
professor of theology, once a member of
the Society of Jesus, but who quitted it
twenty years ago. They have two mar
ried sisters.
A dead-beat may be jugged in
Mexico, while with us he is a cock of the
walk. If you are beaten out of money
or property by a swindler you can put
him in jail and keep him there. In fact
you’ve got to keep him there, because if
he gets out the very first thing he does
will be to slap you in. The only safe way
to let a fellow out o f jail is to make him
give bend with approved security that
he will not retaliate.—[Harding’s Mexi
can Notes.
Among the jewels presented by Lord
Roseberry to his wife, Miss Rothschild,
was the largest sapphire known. It was
brought to England sometime ago in its
rough state and for a long time remained
unsalable as the dealers fancied they saw
in it a flaw. At length one more cour
ageous than the others purchased it for
$4,000, taking all the risk. On being
sent to the polisher it was found that the
defect was barely skin deep. Lord
Roseberry paid SIO,OOO for it, the same
price as the Duke of Westminister paid
some years aso for the largest known
turquoise. The sapphire is about the
size of a large walnut; the turquoise, a
flatter stone, has a somewhat larger
surface.
The New Orleans Bulletin says
“ Ocean steamers of large tonnage are
constantly arriving at this port, looking
for cargoes of cotton and grain. The
constantly increasing depth at the
jetties is attracting larger steamers,
which are acknowledged to be cheaper
carriers than vessels of smaller capacity,
to which the trade was confined pre
viously ; and with the increasing tonnage
at this port and the addition now making
to the river bulk tonnage, together with
the proposed additions to the facilities
for rapid handling in bulk here, and the
liberal policy of the Great,Northern rail
road, all promises a large increase in this
direction.”
A DOCTKEss writes to the Australian
Star that more quarrels arise between
husband and wife owing to the electrical
changes affecting their nervous systems
by occupying the same bed than by any
other disturbing cause. “There is
nothing,” says she, “ that will derange
the system of a person who is eliminative
in nervous force like lying in bed all
night with another person who is almost
absorbed in nervous force. The absorber
will go to sleep aud rest all night, while
the eliminator will be tossing, tumbling,
restless and nervous, and wake up fretful
and disheartened.” No two persons
should habitually sleep together, accord
ing to this authority ; one will thrive and
the other lose.
Mrs. Hardin, who dwelt near Bijou
Basin, was left with her two children
just previous to the recent terrific snow
storm. The snow drifted and the wind
howled about her house. Her provisions
were nearly exhausted, and the fire was
dying out. The supply of matches had
given out, and all the efforts of the
mother to infuse life into the dylDg em
bers in the stove proved fruitless. The
snow fell through the chimney and
smothered the fire, and, after an hour’s
effort to keep herself and the children
warm, the-mother, brooding over the
possible result of the storm and wonder
ing at her husband’s long absence,
gathered her children in her arms and
ventured out into the storm, intending
to make an effort to reach the house of
her father-in-law, which was three miles
distant. * The next day her lifeless body
was found buried in the snow, clasping
her two dead children.
Vienna, on the blue Danube, the
Kaiserstadt, the court city of the Austro-
Hungarian empire, has adopted a curious,
method of raising funds for carrying on
the municipal government. Its author
ities have issued certificates, redeemable
in 1924, guaranteed by the imperial gov
ernment, and bearing a low rate of in
terest. In order to induce people to
invest, the city has provided a kind of
lottery in which there are to be four
drawings annually, each certificate being
liable to draw the prize of $50,000. The
cashier of a New York bank was arrested
Friday, on the charge of sending lottery
circulars through the mails, but the
judge decided that there was no element
of fraud in the Vienna scheme, as each
bondholder received a quid pro quo for
his investment, aside from the lottery
feature.
At last it is a woman who takes the
initiative in resenting an insult offered
her by a lawyer while in the witness box.
Mrs. Nicholson concluded that Counselor
Rindskof had in his examination gone
farther than the law allows, and on leav
ing the court room made his face feel the
weight of her hand. For centuries man
lias meekly undergone these outrages.
Questions, jokes and scoffs, involving all
THE ELLIJAY COURIER.
VOLUME 111.
manner of iaault and insinuation, which
would not for a moment be tolerated
elsewhere, have been uncomplainingly
endured and borne simply because the
victim was a witness. It has mattered
not whether the witness was male or
female, sick or well, incapacitated through
nervousness and confusion from giving
clear and intelligible answers. Any timid
girl, a wife, sister or mother, has been
equally exposed to such insults. A
woman has struck the first blow. It is
time.—[New York Graphic.
A Chat with Klgnold—Some. Amusing
Adventures.
I have been made to suffer untold ago
nies on the stage by the stupidity and
positive idiocy of people in tne compa
nies provided to support—heavens, what
a misapplication of the word I—me in
‘ Henry V.’ I wonder sometimes that
my hair is not white when I think oi the
misery I have endured.”
Here Mr. Rignold passed his hands
through the masses of wavy blonde hair
which thickly thatch his well-formed
head and heaved a deep sigh at the
thonght. Hia wife laughed merrily—the
same rippling, infectious lsugh that one
hears from Lady Betty Noel—and ioter
posed:
“ Why net tell the Herald some of
your experiences with these stupid fel
lows ?”
“ It’s very well to laugh when one
looks back upon them ; but at the time,
I assure you, it is a serious matter to me.
I was brought up in a very strict school,
where the ‘ larking ’ indulged in on the
stage in this country would not have
been permitted under any circum
stances; and aside from this, all
these unwitting blunders, and especially
the intentional errors of minor actors,
annoy, me exceedingly. I have stood on
the stage and at the wings in positive
agony, the perspiration oozing from every
pore, and my nerves getting wound up
to a state of tension you can hardly con
ceive of, when some thick-headed lout
was mangling his lines or destroying, by
his ignorance of the 'business’ of his
part, the effect of some of the strongest
scenes and situations.
“ Horrible examples ? Yes, indeed,
could give you thousan<lß, if I could re
member them. I might have filled
volumes had I taken no.es of all the an
noying and ludicrous circumstances
which have attended the performances
of ' Henry V.’ through the United States.
The blunders in the delivery of the lines
would in themselves fill a book as large
as an ‘ unabridged ’ dictionary. The most
stupid ones, too, for which there could
be no possible excuse. Why, I remember
one which occurred in Hartford. The
actor who was dressed as the Archbishop
of Canterbury, should have said to King
Henry, in the third scene of act first:
The sin upon my head, dr*ad sovere'gn ;
For in the book of Numbers is it writ,
Wlwn the man dies, etc.
“ But he said this :
The sin be upon my head, dreaded sovereign
For in the book of Figures it ia written, etc.
“ Can you imagine anything funnier ?
But it is an actual fact, and this was not
half so bad as others I can tell. I re
member another,” and Mr. Rignold
laughed heartily, “ it shows the fertility
of the man’s invention. It was in the
French camp scene in the third act. The
constable of France should say to the
English soldiers:
‘ The men do sympathise with the
mastiffs in robustious and rough coming
on, leaving their wits with their wives;
and, then, give them great meals of beet,
and iron and Bteel, they will eat like
wolves and fight like devils.’
“ The constable got along in this speeclr
very well until the last line. ‘Givethem
great meals o, beef, and iron, and steel,’
quoth he, ‘they will eat like devils and
fight like-er-er—fight like-er tom cats!'
He did actually say that. ‘ Tom cats !’
1 can laugh at it now ; but I must con
fess I felt like anything but laughing
then. Even more absurd was a fellow
who was playing one ot the soldiers who
meet the King the night before the battle.
That man walked up to me, and when he
should have said:
But if the cause be not good, the king
himself hath a heavy reckoning to
make, Ac.
“ He shouted instead:”
* But if his cause be a good ’un, the
king himself 11 catch h—ll V
“Do you wonder that I could not
keep a straight • face after that ? And
there was a being cast for the governor
of Harfleur when we were playing one
night in Troy. When, in the scei-e
before the gates of Harfleur, he ought to
have said:
Our expectation hath this day an end.
The Dauphin, whom of succor we entreated,
Bet liras us that his powers are not yet ready
To raire so great a siege.
" He yelled out:
Our expfctalioni have Hit to an end.
That sucker of a Dauphin
Bajrs he ain’t ready yet
To raise eo great a siege.
“ I could go on all night giving such
examples. And such blunders—it they
can be called blunders—have by no
means been confined te the play of
Henry V.’ When I was playing William
in ‘ Black-Eyed Susan ’ in Brooklyn one
night, I had a verdict of * not guilty ’
returned in my behalf, in spite of all the
evidence the other way, by an actor who
was a little bewildered as to whether he
was on a jury or a marine court-martial.
And then he jumped up again, as he
realized the situation, and stammered,
• I beg pardon, I mean guilty.’ He got
a round of applause then which I don’t
believe he has forgotten yet. Then there
was the admiral, who persisted in read
ing the law so as to convict me any way
—‘ Any man, in or out of her majesty’s
navy, who shall draw, or shall not
draw ’ etc. —notwithstanding our remon
strances.’'—[Baltimore Herald,
Horribly profane, indeed, never
really eloquent unless profane—Ben
Wade kept a God only to swear by. He
had no religion, and remarked to seme
friends once, “ Sumner’s science has found
all the heavenly bodice, save God Al
mighty,” and then, after a pause added
“ I doubt whether he looked. Sumner
thinks he is God Almighty.”—[Cincin
nati Inquirer.
An Englishman committed suicide
lie cause his wife was too good for him.
The rest of us should be vaccinated at
once
11 Error Oomos to bo Dangerous When Season is Lsft Frsa to Combat It."—Jeflbrson.
HOrNO THIS YEAH.
BY MARY ltn> n* VERB.
The deities bloeecm here and there.
The clover beads nud everywhere.
And everywhere brown swallows fly—
Swift dipping low, swift soaring high.
Ah, sweet the world, but time runs by I
Now, leaves whirl earthward, crisp and brown,
Now wandering balls of thistledown
Move on. like ahoeta that cannot lie ;
The fields are bare, the roads are dry;
Ah, sweet the world, hut Urns tuna by I
Bweet, sweet, the world clothed round in white
l he snow-drifts shine on plain and height;
The children shout, the sledges fly :
Hark, how the echoes ring and die S
• Ah, sweet the world, hut time runs by!
The snow-drifts melt In April rain;
▲ll lovely things come hack again:
warm budding words, and Under aky,
Song neat and blossom. • • • Glad am l
1 hat God hae made the time run by!
THE TWO NEPHEWS.
At the parlor window of a pretty villa,
near Walton-on-Thames, sat, one evening
at dusk, an old man and young woman.
The age of the man might be some sev
enty years, while his companion had
certainly not reached nineteen. Her
beautiful, blooming face and active, light
and upright figure were in strong con
trast with the worn countenance and
bent frame of the old man, but in his
eye and in the corners of his mouth were
indications of a gay self-confidence
which age and suffering had dampened
but not extinguished.
“ No use looking any more, Mary,”
said he; “ neither John Meade nor Peter
Finch will be here before dark. Very
hard that, when a sick uncle asks his
two : nephews to come and see him, they
can’t come at once. The doty is simple
in the extreme—only to help to die and
take what I choose to leave them in my
will I Pooh ! when I was a young man
I’d have done it for my uncle wiui the
utmost celerity. But the world’s getting
quite heartless! ’’
“Oh, sir!” said Mary.
•'And what does ‘Ob, sir I’ mean?”
said he. “D’ye think I sha’nt die? I
know better. A little more, and there’ll
be an end of Billy Collett. He’ll have
left this dirty world for a cleaner—to the
great sorrow (and advantage) of his af
fectionate relatives! Ugh ! Give me a
glass of the doctor’s medicine.
The girl pored, some medicirie into a
glass, and Colluett after having contem
plated it for a moment with infinite dis
gust, managed to get it down.
"I tell you what, Miss Mary Sutton,”
said he, “I don’t by any means approve
of your ‘Oh, sir!’ and ‘dear sir,’ and
the rest of it, when I’ve told you how I
hate U> be called *Bir’ stall. Why, you
couldn’t be more respectful it you were
a charity-girl and Ia beadle in a gold- I
laced hat. None of your nonsense,!
Mary Sutton, if you please. I’ve been '
your lawful guardian now for more than
six months, and you ought to know my
likings and dislikings.”
“My poor father often told me how
you disliked ceremony,” Baid Mary.
“Your poor father told you quite
right,” said Mr. Collett. “Fred Sutton
was s man of talent—a capital fellow.
His only fault was a natural inability to
keep a farthing in his pocket. Poor
Fred I he loved me—l’m sure he did.
.He bequeathed me his only child, and it
isn’t every friend that would do that.”
“A kind and generous protector you
have ever been!”
“Well, I don’t know ; I’ve tried not to
be a brute, but I dare say I have been.
Don’t I speak roughly to you sometimes?
Haven’t I given you good, prudent,
worldly advice about John Meade, and
made myself quite disagreeable and un
like a guardian ? Come, confess you love
this penniless nephew of mine.”
“Penniless, indeed.”
“ Ah, there it is,” Baid Mr. Collett.
“ What business has a poor devil of an
artist to fall in love with my ward ? And
what business has my ward to fall in love
with a poor devil of an artist? But that’s
Fred Sutton’sdaughterall over. Haven’t
I two nephews? Why couldn’t you fall
in love with the discreet one—the
thriving ? Peter Finch—considering
he’s an attorney—is a worthy young
man! He is industrious in the extreme,
and attends to other people’s business
only when he is paid for it He despises
sentiment, and always looks to the main
chance. But Johu Meade, my dear
Mary, may spoil canvas forever and not
grow rich He’s all for art, and truth,
and social reform, and spiritual elevation,
and the Lord knows what. Peter Finch
will ride in his carriage and splash John
Meade as he trudges on foot.”
The harangue was here interrupted by
a ring at the gate, and Mr. Peter Finch
was announced. He had scarcely taken
his seat when another pull at the bell
was heard, and Mr. John Meade was an
nounced.
Mr. Collett eyed his two nephews with
a queer sort ot smile, while they made
speeches expressive of sorrow at the na
ture of their visit. At last, stopping
them, he said:
“ Enough, boys, enough 1” said he.
“ Let us find some better subject to dis
cuss than the state ot an old man’s health.
I want to know a little mare about you
both. I haven’t seen much of you up
to the present time, and for anything f
know you may be rogues or fools.”
John Meade seemed rather to wince
under this address, but Peter Finch sat
calm and confident.
“To put a case, now,” said Mr. Col
let, “ this morning a poor wretch of a
gardener came begins here. He conld
get no work, and said he was starving.
Well, 1 knew something about the fel
low, and I believe he only told the
truth ; so I gave him a shilling to get rid
of him. Now I’m afraid I did wrong.
What reason had I for giving him a
shilling? What claim had be on me?
What claim had he on anybody? The
value of his labor on the market is all
that a workingman has a right to ; and,
wheu his labor is of no value, why, then
he must go to the devil, or whatever else
he can—eb, Peter? That’s my philoso
phy ; what do you think ?”
“ 1 quite agree with you, sir,” said Mr.
Finch ; “ perfectly agree with you. The
value of their labor in the market is all
that laboreas can pretend to—all that
they Bhould have. Nothing acts more
perniciously than the absurd, extraneous
support called charity.” •
Hear, hear!” said ■ Mr. Collett.
“ You’re a very clever fellow, Peter.
Go on, my dear boy, go en.”
“ What results lrom charitable aid ? ’
continued Peter. “ The value of labor is
kept on an unnatured level. State char-
ELLIJAY, GEORGIA, MAY 3, 1878.
ity is state robbery, private charity is
1 public wrong.”
“ That’s it, Peter I” said Mr. Collett.
“ What do you think of our philosophy,
John ?”
“ I don’t like It—l don’t believe it I”
said John. “ You were quite right to
give the man a (hilling. I’d have given
him a shilling myself.”
“Oh, you would, would you?” said
Mr. Collett. “ You’re very generous
with your shillings. Would you fly in
the face of all orthodox political econo
my, you vandal?”
“ Yes,” said John; “-as the vandals
flew in the face of Rome and destroyed
what had become a falsehood and a nui
sance.” , *-
“ Poor John 1” said Mr. Collett, “ we
shall never make anything of him, Pe
ter. Really, wfi’d better talk of some
thing else. John, tell us all about the
last new novel.V
They convened on various topics un
til the arrival of the invalid’s early bed*,
time parted uncle and nephews for the
night.
Mary Sutton seized an opportunity the
next morning before breakfast to speak
to Johu Meade alone.
“ John,” said she, “do think more of
your own interest—of our interest.
What occasion for yeu to be so violent
last night and to contradict Mr. Collett
so shockingly? I saw Peter Finch
laughing to himself, John ; you must be
more careful or we shall never be mar
ried.”
“ Well, Mary, dear, I’ll do my best,”
said John. “It was that oounfounded
Peter, with his chain of iron maxims,
that made me fly out. I’m not an ice
berg, Mary.”
“Thank’ heaven, you’re not,!” said
Mary; “ but an iceberg floats—think of
that, John. Remember, every time you
offend Mr. Collett, you please Mr.
Finch.”
“So I do,” said John. “Yes, I’ll
surely remember that.
“ If you would only try to be a little
mean and hard-hearted,” said Mary;
“just a little to begin with. You would
only stoop to conquer, John, and you
deserve to conquer.”
“ May I gain my deserts, then,” said
John. “ Are you not to be my loving
wife, Mary? Are you not to sit at needle
work in my studio while I paint my great
historical picture ? How can this come
to pass if Mr. Collett will do nothing for
us?”
“ Ah, how, indeed ? ” said Mary. “ But
here’s our friend, Peter Finch, coming
through the gate from his walk. I leave
you together. And, so saying, she with
drew.
“ What, Meade,” said Peter Finch, as
! lie entered, “skulking indoors on a fine
I morning like this ? I’ve been ail through
the village*- -not an -ugly pls’ce—’but
wants looking after sadly—roads shame
fully muddy ; pigs allowed to walk on
the foot-path I ”
“ Dreadful 1” exclaimed John.
“ I say, you came out pretty strorg
last night,” said Peter. “ You quite
defied the old man 1 I like your spirit.”
“ I have no doubt you do,” thought
John.
“Oh, when I was a youth I was a
little that way myself,” said Peter, “ but
the world, the world, my dear sir, soon
cures us of all romantic notions. I re
gret, of course, to see poor people mis
erable ; but what’s the use of regretting ?
It’s no part of the business of the
superior classes to interfere with the
laws of supply and demand; poor people
must be miserable. What can’t be cured
must be endured.”
“ That is to say,” returned John,
“ what we can’t cure they mußt endure.”
“ Exactly bo,” said Peter.
Mr. Collett this day was too ill to
leave his bed. About noon he requested
to see his nephews in his bedroom. They
found him propped up by pillows, look
ing very weak, but in good spirits as
usual.
“Well, boys,” said he, “ here I am,
you see ; brought to anchor at last 1 The
doctor will be here soon, I suppose, to
shake his head and write recipes. Hum
bug, my boys! Patients can do as
much'for themselves, I believe, as doctors
can do for them ; they’re all in the dark
together—the only difference is that the
patients grope in English and the doctors
grope in Latin.”
“ You are too skeptical, sir,” said John
Meade.
“ Pooh I” said Mr. Collett. “ Let us
change the subject. I want your advice,
Peter and John, on matters that concern
your interests. I am going to make
my will to-day, and I don’t know how to
act about your cousin, Emma Briggs.
Emma disgraced us by marrying an oil
man.”
*An oilman!” exclaimed John.
“ A vulgar, shocking oilman 1” said
Mr. Collett; “ a wretch who not only
sold oil, but soap, candles, turpentine,
black lead and birch brooms. It was a
dreadful blow to the family. Her poor
grandmother never got over it, and a
maiden aunt turned Methodist in
despair. Well, Briggs, the oilman died
last week, it seems, and his widow has
written to me, asking lor assistance.
Now. I have thought of leaving her a
hundred a year in my will. What do
you think of it? I’m afraid she don’t
deserve it. What right had Bhe to marry
against the advice of her friends ? What
have I to do with her misfortunes ? ”
“My mind is qu.te made up,” said
Peter Finch; “no notice ought to be
taken of her. She made an obstinate
and unworthy match ; let her abide the
consequences.”
"Now I would like your opinion,
John,” said Mr. Coilett.
“ Upon my word, I think I must say
the same,” said John Meade, bracing him
self up boldly for the part of the wordly
man. “ What right had she to marry—
as you observed with great justice, sir?
let her abide the consequences—as you
very properly remarked, Finch. Can’t
she carry on the oilman’s business ? I
dare say it will support her very well.”
“Why, no,” said Mr. Collett; “Briggs
died a bankrupt, and his widow and
children are very destitute,-’
‘ That does not alter the question,”
said Peter Finch. “Let Briggs’ family
do something for her themselves.”
“To be sure,” said Mr. Collett, “Briggs’
family are the people to do something for
her. Bhe musn’t expect anything from
us, must she, John
‘ Destitute,is she? ’ said John. “With
children, too? Why, this is another
case, sir. You surely ought to notice
her—to assist her. Confound it, I’m in
for letting her have the hundred a year.”
“Oh, John, John! what a break
down!” said Mr. Collett. “Se you
were trying to follow Peter Finch
through stony Arabia, and turned back
at the second step! Here’s a brave
traveler for you, Peter! John, keep
your Arabia Felix, and leave sterner
wavs to very different men. Good-by,
both of vou. I’ve no voice to talk any
more. I’ll think over all you have said.”
He pressed their hands and they left
the room. The old man was too weak
to speak the next day, and three days
after that he calmly breathed his last.
As soon as the funeral was over the
will was read by the confidential man of
business, who had always attended to
Mr. Collett’s affairs. The group that sat
around him preserved a decorous appear
ance of disinterestedness, and, the usual
preamble to the will having been listened
to with breathless attention, the man of
business read the following, in a clear
voice:
“ I bequeath to my niece, Emma
Briggs, notwithstanding that she shocked
her family by marrying an oilman, the
sum of £4,000, being folly persuaded that
her lost dignity, it she could ever find it
again, would do nothing to provide her
with food, or clothing, or shelter.”
John Meade smiled and Peter Finch
ground his teeth, but in a quite respect
able manner. The man of business went
on with his reading.
“ Having always had the opinion that
woman should be rendered a rational
and independent being—and having duly
considered the fact that society practi
cally denies her the right to earn her own
living—l hereby bequeath to Mary Sut
ton, the only child of my old friend,
Frederick Sutton, the sum of £IO,OOO,
which will enable her to marry or to
remain single as she may prefer.”
John Meade gave a prodigious start
upon hearing this, and Peter Finch
ground hiß teeth again, but in a manner
hardly perceptible. Both, however, by
a violent effort, kept silent. The man ot
business went on with his reading.
“ I have paid some attention to the
character of my nephew, John Meade,
and have been grieved to find him much
possessed with a feeling of philanthropy
and with a general preference for what
ever is noble and true over what is base
and false. As these tendencies are by no
means such as can advance him in the
world, I bequeath him the sum of
£IO,OOO, hoping that he will thus be
kept out of the workhouse, and be en
bled to paint his great historical picture,
which, as yet, he has only talked about.”
“As for my other nephew, Peter
Finch, he views all things in so saga
cious and selfish a wav, and is so certain
to get on in life, that I should only insult
him by offering an aid which he does not
requireryet, from his affectionate uncle,
ana entirely as a testimony of admira
tion for his mental acuteness, I venture
to hope that he will acoept a bequest of
£SOO toward the completion of his ex
tensive library of law books.”
How Peter Finch 'stormed and called
names, how John Meade broke into a
delirium of joy, how Mary Sutton cried
first and then laughed, and then laughed
and cried together; all these matters I
shall not attempt to describe. Mary
Sutton is now Mrs. John Meade, and
her husband has actually begun the
Ct historical picture. Peter Finch
taken to discounting bills and bring
ing actions on them, ana drives about in
his brougham already.
URAIN BY RIVER.
Nw York's Appreciation of I be HlaalMlp.
pi’s Importance n. m Cksnrl of Trade.
Put a shingle into the Mississippi river
at St. Paul, and, it it follows the natural
current ot the waters without propelling
power, it will be found within forty days
lying off the harbor of New York. Why
shall not a barge loaded with wheat take
the same course ? Nature supplies all the
needed power. The river sweeps down
ward by New Orleans, and thence to the
gulf stream, and the gulf stream brings
it within one hundred miles of New
York. Artificial power is needed only
to keep the loaded barge in the current.
By that route the loaded grain is far on
the way to Liverpool, and it has only to
follow the same stream, and in due timp
it will be landed, without human aid,
on British soil. New York is in the
great track of nature, and yet would fur
row the continent in order to make a
better. And there are men who think it
folly tosay that grain can never be moved
economically from St. Paul to New York
by way of New Orleans. So there were
men who, four years ago, when a writer
declared that grain could be regularly
moved from St. Louis to New Orleans at
a cost ot less than five cents per bushel,
laughed at bis wild enthusiasm. Yet at
this very time, as a St. Louis paper
states, the ordinary charge for shipment
of grain from St. Louis to New Orleans
is only five cents a bushel. When the
same writer asserted that, after fair de
velopment of that route, the work could
be done with profit at three cents per
bushel, many thought the statement ab
surd. But now it is claimed by the of
ficers of the most important transporta
tion companies on the Mississippi that
the bushel of grain can be moved at a
charge of not more than three cents
per bushel, with ample cargoes and a
fair stage of water or an improved chan
nel. From St. Paul to New York, by
way of New Orleans, is about three
thousand eight hundred miles, but
nature furnishes the track and the
motive power for the whole distance.
Art and commerce have only to put the
wheat into something that will float and
keep it dry. Only a few years ago it was
thought wild to talk of moving grain in
bulk down the Mississippi river by
barges, but the enormous receipts at New
Orleans this year show that it is done,
and with profit. Years later it was
thought insane to attempt the move
ment of grain over the lakes by barges,
but the thing is done, with profit and
safety, as the railroads have learned to
their cost. How long will it be before
the great highway ot nature, from the
chief wheat-fields of the west to the
chief markets and greatest consum
ing cities of the east, will be utilised.
New York may be assured that
it will not be very long. If this
city insists upon handling no grain for
export that does not come by canal or
railroad, there is so much the more roem
for New Orleans to export grain. Al
ready the movement has become so large
as to attract attention. Tbe shipments
NUMBER 22.
from that port have greatly increased
since the jetties gavh.fr® ingress and
egress to vessels of such tonnage as to
provide economical transportation. Cot
ton can pay almost any freight. Wheat
and corn are worth less than one sixth as
much per ion, and must seek economical
routes. The beginning has been made.
The barges move down the river, taking
at times from six thousand to twelve
thousand tons of grain, with only a single
tug boat to give direction, and New
Orleans suddenly takes rank as a port ef
the first magnitude for the export of
grain. The lowest rate granted by any
railway from St. Paul to New York, and
thence to Liverpool, is high compared
with rates now made from 81. Paul to New
Orleans and thence to Liverpool. Yet
the grain on the route from New Orleans
passes within a few hours’ sail of this
harbor. Is this not an opportonity for
the oapital and enterprise of this city,
•and is it disloyal to the Erie canal to
suggest that grain from Minnesota, lowa,
Nebraska, Kansas and Missouri, if moved
by the river, pays no tax to Chicago
railways or Chicago elevators? West
ward the star of grain-growing takes
its way. Already more than half of the
wheat that is sent to market comes from
regions beyond the Mississippi. The
river is a highway, and the cheapest on
Urn earth, and it leads from the cheapest
grain fields directly to the chief con
suming regions of the Atlantic coast and
to the chief markets of Europe. Is it
entirely clear to wise New Yorkers that
they can afford to ignore those facts?
By somebody, sooner or later, these same
facts are sure to be turned to account.—
"New York Public.
Nevada’s Valley of Death.
In the northeast corner of San Ber
nardino county, by the newly surveyed
line, partly, also, in the state of Nevada,
is a region paralleled by few other spots
on the face of the earth. We say the
world is instinct with life. Here, if the
phraseology may be pardoned, is a place
instinct with death. A huge basin, whose
rim is the ancient hills, stricken with the
barrenness of eternal desolation, whose
bosom the blasted waste of the desert—
treeless, sbrubless and waterless, save a
few bitter pools like the lye of potash
water; surrounded by mountains that
tower thousands of feet above the sea
level, itself lying three . thousand feet
above the sea. It is a very “ Gehenna”—
a place of death and bones. Birds do not
fly over it. Animals do not enter it.
Vegetation cannot exist in it. The broad
sands absorb the hat, the bare mountains
reflect it, the unclouded sun daily adds
to it. Ninety degrees in the shade
(artificial heat- -there is no other) means
winter; one hundred and thirty and one
hundred and forty degrees, that means
su in mer.Thc hot air grows hotter; wavers,
trembles with heat, until nature, goaded
with madness, can endure no longer,
and then the burning blast rouses
itself—rouses in its might; rouses as an
angry blast, with a hoarse, ominous roar;
swept mile after mile, on, ever on, over
the broad reach of the desert, bearing in
its black, whirling bosom—black as mid
night-dust, sand, alkali and death.
Sometimes murky clouds gather upon
the mountains above; then there is a
rush, a warning sigh of the winds, a low
rumbling in the air; the hills quiver,
the earth trembles, and a torrent, half
water, half mud, bounds from the hills,
leaps into the desert, plowing chasms
like river beds in loose sand. The clouds
scatter, the sun comes again, the eternal
thirst is not quenched. The raging river
was only a dream. In the year 1849 a
party of emigrants entered the basin.
Day after day they toiled on, thirsting,
dying. The pitiless mountain walled
them in: no escape. One by one they
dropped and died. A few abandoned
everything, scaled the mountains and
escaped. Tne others lie as they fell,
dried to mummies—no birds even to de
vour their flesh; no beasts to prey upon
them. Wagon ties unrusted, gun bar
rels bright, untatnished. Such is the
place Mile after mile silence reigns;
silence—and death.—[Kennesaw Gazette.
Row Robber Balls are Made.
The process of making the hollow rub
ber halls used by children for play*
things is quite curious, and may be in
teresting to those not familiar with it.
A Holyoke writer thus describes it. The
upper'room of the mill is prepared to
push this brtmch of the business for a
few months, and it will probably turn
out some 60,000 dozen of those balls be
tween January and June. These balls
have a solid surfsce, are made by a dif
ferent process from that of making the
soft rubber balls which are perforated bv
an opening, and of course, are much
more firm, durable and elastic. The
sheets of rubber prepared for the balls
are cut into strips of double convex
shape. The edges of the stripe are mois
tened with a preparation of rubber and
naphtha, by which they are joined
firmly together, three of tbe strips being
used for one ball. This part of the work
is done by girls, and a skillful girl can
earn about $1.60 per day. When the
strips are joined together, tbe ball is
very near the shape of a Brazil nut.
Before the last opening is closed, a small
quantity of carbonate of ammonia is put
inside, which, when subjected to a strong
heat, will make the rubber expand and
fill out the ball mold. The opening is
then closed with the adhesive mixture,
and it is placed in an iron mold of the
size and shape of the ball desired. The
molds are packed into frames in which
they are subjected to the beat of the
vulcanizer. They are kept in place in
the frame by iron rods along the side,
and, when the frame is full, iron plates
at the ends are screwed down tightly
upon the molds to hold them in place.
These iron plates are about three-fourths
of an inch thick, and so strong is the
expansive force of the rubber in the
molds that they have bent this thick iron
into a curve. If one of the molds should
work out of place while vulcanizing is
in process, the molds will fly out with
a noise like tbe report of a dozen pistols,
and the work is spoiled. Ihe action ot
tbe heat does the rest. When the molds
are opened they contain the perfect
round ball*, with no mark of tbe places
where the pieces were placed. The
slight ridge made by the mold is ground
off bv a stone used for the purpose, and
the ball is done. This is but one pro
cess of rubber work. Besides the hollow
balls are made tolid balls of rubber,
etc.
PACTS >Nf> PANCI#. jil
The material moat used oat [west far
a lite-siz'd bast is a quart of whisky.
Hood called the slamming of a 4oov
by a person in a passion “a weodea
oath.”
Little girls believe ia a man ii the
moon—young ladies believe in a mao ia
the honeymoon.
“ What is wisdom ?” asked a tnrhtr
of a clasa ot small girls A bricht-eyai
little creature arose and answered: “ la- .
formation of the brain.” r _, m
The Yankee crams himself with rslm
the Southerner prefers the torture of hot
biscuits. Either diet ia suflMaat toyro
duce a sectional animosity that soly.
blood can allay.
“ What is the differ*® betwefa a&
potato and a lemon ?” When the qua*,
tioned party says he don’t know, you'
say: “ Then I don’t want you to 4uy
any lemons for ” *
Marie Roze, while singing in Chicago,
kissed a child who handed her a bouqnst
from a proscenium box. Soon afterward
a man handed her another, and a cty
from the gallary, “ Why don’t you
kiss him?” made the audience laugh.
Dentist, to sn old lady abont pur
chasing some false teeth: “ For mastica
tion, my dear madam, they can only be
surpassed by nature herself.” Old lady:
“ 0 laws, doctor I I don’t care nothing
about the mastication if I can only chaw ‘
with 'em." ■
What a beautiful example of simpli
city in dress ia shown some followers of.
the fashion by that domestic animal, tbs
cat, which rises in the morning, washes
its face with its rig! it hand, gives ito
tail three jerks, and is ready [dressed for
the day.
• . *
The reason given for a girl’s not being
able to throw anything with the accurkdy
of a boy ia that her coUan- bone-fa
several inches longer and several degree*
lower down, and being long and crooked,
interferes wfth the free aetioif tSf the
shoulders. : . q
“ The girls of oar day aie very badly
educated,” said one of the membeis of
a committee on education to the Bishop
of Gloucester. '“That can not be
denied,’.’ retorted hie lordship. “How
ever, there is one consolation, the boys
will never find it out.” *
There are seventy-four penny savings
banks in Liverpool, located in schools,
churches, factories, etc., which receive
small amounts from depositors up to ten
dollars, when accounts are opened in
larger banks. Last year these banka re
ported 296,800 accounts.
Avery little boy had ope day dona
wrong, and he was eent, after paternal
correction, to ask in secret the forgiveness
of his Heavenly Father. His offense was
passion. Anxious to hear what be would
say, his mother followed to the doftrO#
the room. In lisping accepts she heauft
him ask to be made batten and then,
with childlike simplicity, he added:
“Lord, make roa’s temper better, too.”
John Harmon’s Wit.
The politicians like a President of the
obliging, worldy stamp of Franklin-
Pierce. John Harmanj of Detroit, now
in Washington, and the man Friday of
LewU Csss, was an applicant' for col
lector of the Port. Hannon h still a
politician, but .advocates a permanent
civil service. On the expected occasion,
Pierce did not send in bis name. Caas,
in a great flurry, sent for him and raid :
“John, they’ve been up to the Presi
dent and protested against yonr nomina
tion!”
“ What do they say ? ”
•* That you’re a drinker, a gambler and
too gallant."
“Ah 1 ” said Hannon, “J’Jl go
there.”
Pierce was a little confused. “Harmoh,**
he said, “ there were some charges against
vou which I had to consider. It is al
leged that you drink.”
“ Mr. President, I never drink-afond.'*
Pierce colored and laughed. That wee
his own style j. _..
“ Very good, John,” he.said ; “I don’t
like a lone drinker. But they day-*-
nem!—that you play cards.”
“ Yes, Mr. President; but I always play
to win.”
Pierce blushed and chuoklcd wain.
He was very fond of a game, and the
nearer morning it broke up the better.
“That’s the way to play,” he said
“ But ah 1 a-hem 1 John, as to this devo
tion to the ladies ?”
“Gen. Pierce,” exclaimed Hannon,
following the president up with the seri
ousness of a prosecutor, “ I never pur
sued a woman in my life, and neve?
allowed one to chase me. Reciprocity hi
my law!”
Pier® saw himself described, and put
out bis hand :
“ Nothing but human nature, John I”
he added, twinkling. Neat day dae
mon’s name went in, and be was collector
of the port.—[New York Graphic.
j. ■ fftlM
The Birds Of the Sea.
The birdß that belong to the sea are
very curious, and their number heyond
all calculation. “Every naked rock or
surf-beaten cliff that rises over the un
measurable deserts of ocean, is the vertigo
of myriads of sea-birds; every cqpst.
from the poles to the equator, is covered
with their legions, and far from the land
their swarms hover over the solitaries of
the deep.” The penguins are, perhaps,
ot all others, the birds that most widely
depart from the ordinary type of thehr
class. Their wings are adapted exclu
sively for motion in water, and they
swim with such rapidity and persever
an®, with the bead alone out of water,
that they frequently overtake fiabee
in fair pursuit. They live in the
sea, and have been met with a thousand
miles from the nearest known land.
The larger birds of this kind sometimes
weigh as much as eighty pounds, and fn
their stomachs have been found
pounds’ weight ot pebbles and Jana
stones, swallowed, no doubt, to asit
the gizzard to pound up the food
mitted to its action. The frigate hied,
the petrel, and the albatross, seem to
range through the hir over the whofe
extent-of ocean from cans* to coast of the
Atlantic to the Pacific. The pelican,
also, and (he cormorant, are far more
nearly dependent on water than land',
and strictly belong to our preseat safe
ject. They are all birds of powerful aad
rapid flight, feeding on fishes, ana rarfcly
seen far inland, though often stretching
to great disttn®s acraea wide expans®
of sea. Thanks to them, we have those
accumulated masses of gtlano which hero
to fertilize ou r land s. Borne idea of tfa
extent oi these masses may be obtained
when it is stated that, on the island m
Iquique alone, upwards of sis million*
ot cubic feet of guano have been removed
within the last thirty years, while in the
vesr 1854, not loss than half a pillion of
‘on. vere exported from the Ohincha
Islands.
