Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

THEELLIJAY CO URIEE. Cl HUSHED EVERY FRIDAY. Term*, $1.60 "Per Annum J. C. ALLEN, Editor and Proprietor. —■ 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.