Newspaper Page Text
Seven Times a Widow at Forty.
I 1 or the benefit of that venturesome
class of people who, liko those possessed
ot an irresistible desiro to risk tlieir lives
amioug savage African tribes, would—
the sod shipwrecks of so many of their
tneuds notwithstanding— venture on tho
treacherous sea of matrimony—for their
benefit, I repeat, it becomes on impera
tive duty for me to make known u un
ique chunoe of connubial bliss which has
lately come to my notice. It is of Kathn
> nna Olnuiua, of Vcrbo, in Upper Hun
> K ar y. that I speak, and let him that
* would secure a prize iu the marriage
* thurket hasten to tho land of pomade and
paprika, and without a moment’s delay
mnao her his own. For time is pressing;
she lias often been snapped up, and wfll
mall probability be very soon snapped up
again. A wife who thoroughly under
> stands her social duties, and who is per
-1 feet in her paces, is, I take it, universally
acknowledged to be a “desideratum,
and if tile lady I bavo now tho honor to
produce to public notice does not ful
fil) this condition, then nobody over will,
lor, like her sister in holy writ, she has
had sovon husbands, and the last one has
just died. Here, however, the simile
copies to an end ; for, instead of tho
sevenfold widow following her masters,
teiitharina Chasna is as sound as a bell,
and if wliat is generally said be true —
lias but one anxiety in life, and that is
to get married—“sobald als moglich I”
Our heroine—surely she must be a hero
ine—first married at 17. She began her
crusade against tho opposite sex modest
ly enough, for she selected a shoemaker,
. who, however, succumbed to consump
i< >n at the eudof fiftoonmonths. Ho hard
ly lasted as long a ono of hia own pairs of
shoes—best quality. Number two was
a much-tougher customor. Ho entered
tho list at the ripe age of 87, held out 13
years, and died a fortnight after his
100th birthday. How long he would
have lasted under favorable conditions is
an interesting bus now bootless specu
lation. This affair so preyed on ICatli
aruia’s mind that she was lain to many
within one month for consolation, anil
Hois time it was a widower, who, liow
oVter, camo to a watery grave, for lio died
cf dropsy after four years of bliss. All
-Allis ill luck was beginning to tell on
Katliarina’s spirits, and she determined
now to invest in something “ warranted
to last.” Slie lent a modest ear to the
burning tale of a stalwart farmer of 28,
but alas ! lie succumbed to an " acci
dent,” almost before tho expiration of
the honeymoon (whether he committed
suicide is not clear), I will spare vou
the next three husbands, the last of
whom died on Wednesday. Suffice it
that a fate seemed to pursue them all
and hustled them one after the other into
the “great unknown.” If Katharina
does not marry again soon it will be her
own fault, for several suitors are after
her. Although between 40 and 45, she
is still strikingly handsome, has a splen
did figure, abundant black hair, and
docs not look a day over 35. But, all,
well a-day ! she has east her flashing eyes
on a youth of 21, who is himself over
head and ears in love with someone else.
The Mayor of a neighboring town, a rich
widower of 77, is said to have become
quite childish on the subject of Katli
arina, and humbly mumbles his suit.
Sh) will doubtless take him out of
“pique .’’—Vienna Cor. London Globe.
Care of the Ejes.
The most serious tremble 'with roar
ers and writers is, ns might be predicted
from their peculiar work, weak eyes.
Wo find that engravers, watch-makers
and all others who use their eyes con
stantly in their work take extra care to
preserve them by getting tlio best poß
siblo light by day and using tho best ar
tificial light at night. Tho great army
of readers and writers are careless, and
most of them, sooner or later, pay the
penalty by being forced to give up night
work entirely—some to give up reading,
except at short intervals, under the best
conditions, and now and then one loses
the eyesight entirely after it is too late
to take warning. Greek, German, short
hand, or any other characters differing
from the plain Roman typo, make a
double danger. Tho custom is to la'igh
at all warnings till pain or weakness
makes attention imperative, then it
is often too late to avert the mischief.
Few comprehend the Vast nnm ber we
flippantly call a but it takes a
million fo make up a fair-sized
volume of eX)<) pages, forty lines to the
page, rffty letters to the line. A reader
an easy day of reading this, but
his eyes must go over a thousand thou
.md letters ! We can do no better ser
vice to readers and writers than to call
attention to this great danger of failing
to take the best of care, wbieh is none
too good, for the eyes. Every tyro
knows that he should have the best
light for reading, should shun carefully
early dawn or twilight, should always
stop at the first signs of pain or weari
ness, etc. Most know that the glare
from a plain, white surface is very try
ing, and that the eye is relieved by a
tint. Recent experiments in Germany
are reported to indicate some yellowish
tint as easiest for the eyec. Dark pa
pers, inks that show little color on first
writing, faint load-pencil marks that can
be read only by straining the eyes, are
fruitful sources of mischief. So is bad
writing. The bad paper, ink and pen
cils most of our readers will have too
good sense to use. The intelligent pub
lic should so clearly show its disgust at
the fine type, solid matter, poor paper
and poor printing which some publish
ers and most periodicals, except, the
best, are guilty of offering, that no pub
lisher would dare attempt the experi
ment a second time. The modern news
paper, which so many read in tho ears
and by gaslight, is one of the most
fruitful causes of poor eyesight. We can
not control this at once, but owe it ae
a duty to protest stoutly against such
printed matter, and, if possible, to re
fuse to buy or tolerate it in any form
more than absolutely necessary. Print
ed matter ought to be leaded. A size
smaller type with this extra space be
tween the lines is easier to read than the
size larger set without it. As the leaded
smaller size will contain fully as much
matter to a given space, there is rio rea
son why publishers should not adopt it,
because it is quite as cheap. —Literary
Journal.
Carriages Without Horses.
A Hartford gentleman has nearly com
pleted a carriage for use on ordinary
roads, to be propelled solely by com
pressed air. The shafts, of course, are
omitted, but otherwise the carriage will
resemble in the main, those commonly
used. The machinery, in very compact
form, is under the rear axle, and the air
will be taken into it from a resorvoir in
sufficient quantity to furnish motive
power for a run of many miles.
Aoookding to the London Times, the
Sunday-schools of Great Britain are
lacking in discipliijSi and are noted for
the irregularity in" which the children
attend them. schools are also de
ficient in the picnic : ind festival element
which makes some American Sunday
schools attractive.
Hamilton JontNAL
LAMAR & DENNIS, Publishers.
VOL. Vlll.-NO. n.
fIAUAU IST rill; XVII.ItF.IINKSS.
BY J. W. HATTON.
Alone and frleudleaa; doomed to die.
With never a no 111 to hoar ih\ cry ;
Nor fond, nor drink, nor ahade of tree;
liuuUlu and I—how cruel it aeema to thee!
Death-meaning and heartless the decreo:
Depart, forever, tho child and thee!
of want, und die unbioaoed,
With the boa u toon a boy pressed to thy breaft!
tJneecn the hand that leads tho way
From Uiw h iuo of plenty, far away.
To a world <>i Banda, all parched and baro,
To die of hunger and despair!
Hunger and thirst, and tho maddening moan
Of the dying boy, no plaint!vo grown
That Ilagar fleer, klio knows not whore,
Crazed with hunger and dazed with care.
lint a mother's love, grown strong in death,
Constrains her heart, while life and breath
Ntil! animates the form of one—
The lmauteous form of her darling son.
Only n bo'w-shot could she go
From sight and sound of Ishmaol’s woe;
There sat she down and prayod to die—
How sad und piteous was the cry 1
Her eyes. Ixuliinnied with scalding tears,
Are ope’a at Inst; she listoiiß, hears
A voice speaking, a from afar:
“Behold a well of water near!
Bine, drink, refresh thyself and child,
And Journey jrot a little while,
For I w ill make, in future years,
A Prince of him thy heart reveres—
A father of Kings shall Inhume] be, (
And source of cucllchs Jov to theo.” \
„ - 5 1
Jekmfs Rohjiik.
BY AEIOU.
“ You don’t pretend to say so ! ”
“But I do, really.”
“ True?”
‘ ‘ Just. as true as you live and breathe! ”
“ Well, I never i When are you go
ing ? ”
"In the morning stage as far as
Springfield, and then in the cars.”
“ Won’t that be nice ? ”
“ Yon can just believe so I ”
“Remember and tell me all about
Boston.”
“Oh, I will.”
“ Wish I was going.”
’‘Wish you was, too.”
Those wore the words of a bit of con
versation between two young ladies one
Sunday morning, as they stood in tho
Congregational Church of Perryville,
and pretended to be singing “ Corona
tion. ’
Jennie Jones had confidentially told
Ellen White, when they arose to join in
the singing that she was going to Bos
ton, nud Ellen had expressed herself as
perfectly surprised.
In Perry ville, it wac a great and im
portant event for one of the citizens to
go as far away as Boston. Once in a
long while some adventurous Perry
villian visited Greenfield or North
Adams, and the village merchant went
twice a year to Springfield, but no one,
excepting perhaps Rev. Mr. Profounde,
‘icut to Buskin. Perry viilo was an
isolated town in the backwoods of North
ern Massachusetts, out of hearing of fin
ished civilization, and a little world in
itself. Tho people wore Yankees of the
purest stamp and quality, and as con
ceited as they chose to be.
Among the good people of Perryville
Mr. Thomas Jones was the magnate—
and to be the great man of a Yankee
town is to be a person of consequence.
Thomas Jones had the best farm
in town, was the thriftiest of
the citizens, and held all of
the most important town offices. Jennie
was liis only child, and from her birth
had been reared to believe her father
the ono bright star in Perryville. It
had dawned on the magnate’s mind that
his daughter might become a talented
lady if she could only be educated, and he
determined that she should have the best
educational advantages that money could
buy. And so she was going to Boston—
thore to bo transformed from a red
haired, milk-and-water country beauty
into a cultured lady.
Ellen White hastened to impart the
important news to her next neighbor,
Mrs. Phipps, and long before Bev. Mr.
Profounde completed his sermon nearl"
all of the congregation knew of it. They
gathered about Jennie when the services
were over, and the poor girl was com
pletely overwhelmed by their congratu
lations.
George Harrison came that Sunday
evening, as he always did, to “sot up’’
with Jennie. The young man was
bowed down with the great sorrow of
parting, and was full of sober thoughts.
“I want you to remember me, Jen
nie,” be sadly said.
“ Of course I will !” Jennie replied.
And George went home at 11, fully
persuaded that Jennie was the best
woman ever created, and apprehensive
that some Boston gentleman might en
tertain the same opinion.
Monday morning came to Jennie, not
as other Monday mornings usually came.
There was no washing to do, no cream
to churn. She was free to act her own
pleasure, and she moved about the old
■arm house sublimely sensible that a
grand era in her life was about to begin.
Her mother was tearful and sad, and
George, hiding behind the rail fence,
shed great, briny tears. Her father
alone was confident.
“I’ll resk Jennie,” be said; “ she's
jest like me, an’ she’ll git along.”
As proof of his confidence he placed
in the girl’s hands a purse of SIOO.
“ Put it right inter yer bosom,” he
said ; “ they say that pickpockets can't
git at it there.”
Jennie obeyed, and firmly resolved
that no pickpocket could get at her
treasure.
The stage came at 9 o’clock, and Jen
nie took leave of her parents. The old
black trunk that had bean her grand
mother’s was lashed on the boot, and
tiie journey for Boston began. At the
postoilice, Jennie’s boon friends hail met,
and, while the stage-driver was waiting
for the mail bags, there was an oscilla
tory leave-taking. Then the lumbering
coach drove off, and the happy girl left
Perryville behind her
The sun had shown its noonday to the
city of .Springfield when the fair traveler
reached there, and was set down at the
depot. There never was a 17-year-old
maiden before who saw Springfield in
such a brilliant light as she Baw it. To
the country girl it was something like
paradise, but it was not lioeton
The eastern-bound train came in, and
Jennie dutifully obeyed her father’s m
stmetious to take tho rear ear tho mo
ment that the train stopped at the depot.
There were but two or throe vacant seats,
and she chose the one nearest the door.
A multitude of forebodings nud woniler
ings tilled her mind. She thought of
tho possibility of au aceident, of tho rate
of speed that the train would run, of the
route, tho great Boston beyond, and lit
tle Perryville left behind. Mentally she
ran over her father’s many injunctions
in regard to board bills, oar fare, extor
tionate hackmen, and especially about
pickpockets.
Once on a time she had read in the
Weekly Gazette a story of a lady’s ad
venture with a pickpocket, wherein that
personage was described as a modern
Claude Duval, handsome, black-whis
kered, and wearing an immaculate suit
of black and a silk beaver. The story
recurred to her mind, and instinctively
she looked about tile car for one who
should have the appearance that tho sto
ry had named. She started tire next
moment. In tho seat directly Indore,
her sat a gentleman, tail, noble looking,
and dressed iu faultless black. A long
and heavy black beard hid his mouth,
and from beneath his hat a curly wealth
ot raven hair was thrown carelessly back.
Jennie lost no time iu arriving at con
clusions. Nothing could havo been more
confident than her decision. Undenia
bly the gentleman filled her ideal. With
out doubt he was a knight of the road, a
wolf seeking whom ho might devour.
Jennie trembled just a little, and began
to hope that tho gentleman would not
notice her. Sho felt of her pocket-book,
and resolved that she should koep it at
all hazards.
The train started, and Jennie felt a
little less perturbed. The dark gentle
man took from his pocket a copy of tho
morning’s Republican, and began to
read.
“Just like a pickpocket!” Joimio
thought. “Perhaps," sho added, “he
thinks I’ll get sleepy by and by and
then lie’ll give mo chloroform. But I
guess I’m smart enough lor him!”
The summer scenery of dusty Hampden
county lost its charms to the country
girl, who, utterly regardless of the
changing view of hill anil vale, kept
her eyes fixed nervously on the very
suspicious-looking gentleman in the seat
before her.
Presently the train reached Palmer,
and among the passengers who entered
was one gentleman who stopped beside
Jennie’s seat, and in a pleasant, manly
tone of voice asked “ if it was engaged?”
It was slightly unfortunate that the
train was just starting, and the ques
tioner’s words were mode indistinct to
the young lady. She understood the
word “engaged,” but tho rest of the
query was inaudible to her.
“What if I am?” she retorted, quick,
petulantly', and only os a Yankee girl cau.
“I would like to sit down if it is not,”
the gentleman smilingly persisted.
"Bit down for all I carol” Jennie
responded.
He took the seat by her side.
‘ ‘ Warm day, ” he began.
Jennie looked poutingly out of the
window.
“Yes,” she simply said.
“I hope I do not crowd you,” the
stranger said apologetically, and in such
a pleasant voice that Jennie turned and
looked forgivingly on him.
The gentleman’s faro was full ntul
ruddy, and a pair of black eyes smiled
in rivalry with the frank lips. He was
dressed in a light summer suit, very lie
coming to the breezy nature that lie
showed. Jennie had never seen such a
captivating man, and sho was ashamed
ot herself for showing ho much petu
lance. She thought that perhaps she
w s niis’uken, and tlint he had not asked
if slio was engaged. Of course lie
wouldn’t, sncli a fine-appearing roan !
Something about him entranced her, and
it seemed precisely as it did when sho
and George Harrison sat on the parlor
sofa of an evening.
“ No, sir, you do not crowd me,” she
answered, hesitatingly.
“ It is tiresome to ride, is it not?” the
gentleman remarked.
“ Yes, sir,” was the demure answer.
“You are from the West, perhaps ?”
“ I am from Perryville, sir.”
“ That is in this State ?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I beg your pardon, but you have
eyes like a Western lady’s—gentle, dove
like and calm.”
Jennie felt flattered.
“The Western ladies are very pret
ty,” the gentleman said. “I have trav
eled extensively in the West, and I have
yet to see a lady in Now England so
fresh and fair as the Western flowers. I
always feel so cold here in Massachu
setts, where fair ladies are so rare. You
may doubt me, but no fairer face than
yours have I seen here.”
“Thank you,” Jenmo guilelessly an
swered.
The stranger sighed, and continued :
“ Now, I am going to Boston, and ex
pect to die of ennui, for fair women are
at a discount there.”
“ I am also on my way to Boston,
sir,” the girl said.
“Indeed! Are you going quite
through on this train ?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That is too bad. I stoji over in
Worcester one train. You are traveling
alone ?”
‘ ‘ Yes, sir. ”
“If I were only going through, now,
I flatter myself I could be of service to
you. ”
" You might, sir. lam a stranger to
Boston, arid I should like to be directed.
Pa told me perhaps I might fall in with
some kind person who would help me
along.”
“Too bail, madam, that duty is duty.
I should be pleased to help yon. Tt is
no pleasure to travel alone and know no
one. ”
“ I think so, sir. And it is ’specially
for a lady. There are pickpockets, you
know. ”
The last words were uttered in a
whisper, and Jennie looked harder than
ever on the gentleman in the seat be
fore her.
“Yes, there are pickpockets,” her
voluble companion answered, “but I
hardly think there are any in this oar.”
“O, sir,” Jennie whisperer], “ I am
sure that that gentleman ahead of us is
nothing else.”
“He has a very indifferent link, cer
tain! v,” the affable man said “ But of
“DUM SPIRO, SPERO.”
HAMILTON. (!A.. NOVEMBER IS. 1880.
course you do not carry money with you
to any amount ?”
“ f have 8100, sir.”
“ All! Let me advise you not to
carry it in your pocket. ’Thieves are
too adept, aiid would not fail to find it
there.”.
“So pa said, sir, and I put it here in
my bosom.”
“ A good place to carry it, madam.”
“l)o you think be could find it
thoio?”
"No, I presume not. My sister de
clares that her purse i' safe there, hut
mother carries hers in her hat. Either
place is safe. My sister would agroe
with you, Miss •"
“My name is Jones, sir.”
"Avery poetic namo 1 Mine is Law
rence—Alexander Lawrence. I have no
cards with. me ; but I am a cuiro-aereial
traveler from I) k 00., New York. ”
Conversation continued. Mr. Law
rence showed himself more and more
agreeable, and Jennie was completely
won by the charming address of the
stranger. Although she was a blushing
and sensitive girl, sho hod some of her
father’s common sense, and she saw iu
tho tone and style of her new acquain
tance a man altogether different from
any one she lmd ever before met. His
refined ease and deference made nil im
mediate impression on her. She was
fascinate'], and felt that she had found
au atmosphere where her lightest, words
might safely float. There are men who
may well l>e styled male flirts, who trifle
with au artless maiden till they read her
soul, mul then leave its book unclosed.
The drummer was such a man. Before
the train reached Worcester, Jennie felt
that she hud known him for a life-time.
She told him of her own history, of
Perryvillo, of her father’s wealth., of her
purpose in visiting Boston. With rapt
attention Mr. Lawrence listened, per
fectly satisfied to find that he had opened
the girl's heart, and encouraging her
confidence by attentive flattery.
“ Yon must favor me with your ad
dress while you are in Boston,” he said,
“ for I shall do myself tho honor of call
ing on you. ”
Jennie promised that she would, und
fondly imagined her pride at having
such a gentlemanly admirer. In her
heart she determined upon writing to
George Harrison tho next day, and ask
ing to bo released from her engagement,
Wouldn’t it be nice to astonish Perry
villo by announcing her engagement to
such a nice gentleman as Mr. Lawreuee!
In her mind she murriod the words,
“Mrs. Alexander Lawrence.” What
would Ellen White say ? Wouldn’t all
the good people of Perryville bo aston
ished ?
All too soon Worcester was reached.
Jennie’s foolish little heart boat rapidly
when Mr. Lawrence took her hand and
bade her good-by, with a trader ex
pression of tho hope that he .-night meet
her again in Boston.
Then ho went out, and Jennie felt
very lonoly. She caught ono last
glimpse of him from the cor window,
and then the cars wont on, and tlm
dream was over.
So agreeable had been tho companion
ship with Mr. Lawrence that Jennie had
for a whole hour forgotten all about her
fear of pickpockets. Now the thoughts
came again. There was tho (lark
bearded gentleman still in the seat be
fore her. There was-—no, there was
not 1 She put her hand to her bosom.
lh r pocket-book wan gone,. Sho made
the discovery, and announced it with
a little scream, and then a succes
sion of shrieks.
The attention of all the passengers
was excited, and tho gallant conductor
came running to the rescue, expecting
to find the lady in au epileptic; fit,.
“Oh, oh! It is gone! Ho lias got
it!” sho cried, in perfect agony.
“Wliat is it, madam?” (The con
ductor did not ask the question very
pleasantly.)
“He has stolen my pocket-book 1”
she cried.
“Who, madam?”
“ He—that follow—that pickpocket!”
indicating tho astonished gentleman,
who had leaned over the seat, looking
mildly at the young lady.
“ Which gentleman ?” asked the con
ductor, not at all pleased with tho ilis
tu rl lanee.
“That man I” Jennie cried. “Don’t
let him get off I He has got my money I
I had it in my bosom, and he stole it I
Search liirn 1 Get it 1”
“Madam,” tho conductor said, “it is
impossible—”
“ He’s got it, an’ you know it 1” the
girl remonstrated. “ You’re in league
with him, I know 1 Oh, dear; won’t
somebody help mo ?”
And poor Jennie burst into a paroxysm
of tears.
The conductor looked doubtfully at
the accused gentleman, who immediate
ly said :
“ If the lady thinks 1 have her pock
et-book, lam willing that you should
search me, conductor.”
The search followed. The gentleman
regarded the conductor with a quizzical
expression on his face, as he emptied
first one pocket, then another. The
passengers regarded the proceeding with
amused faces. Jennie anxiously
watched every movement. The pocket
book wus not found.
“ O dear, dear!” Jennie cried. “ What
shall I do?”
“Madam,” tho conductor said, “it
was, no doubt., tin young man who oc
cupied a part of this seat that deprived
you of your pocket-book !
“What!” Jennie exclaimed, looking
up through her tears “ What] .you do
not think he stole it ? No, sir ; that was
Mr. Alexander Lawrence, from New
York.”
“Indeed!” the conductor returned.
“Arid who is he?”
Jennie was nettled.
“ He is one of the nicest of men,” she
answered.
“ Did you ever see him before ?”
“Wliat if I didn’t?”
“Madam, you will find him to be the
thief. By the way, do you know who
this gentleman is that yon have accused
of theft ?”
“No.”
“ It is no other than Rev. Dr. B——,
of New York.”
Jennie turned deadly pale. What lmd
she done? The name of Rev. Dr. 8
bail often met her eye, and she had
thought of him ns ono of the grout men
of the United States. Confusion pos
sessed her soul, but her natural frank
ness camo to her rescue. The conduc
tor had gone on down the aisle, and,
acting on an impulse of her better
nature, sho leaned forward.
“ Dr. S sho said, quietly, “
beg your pardon for what I did.”
Tho reveretied gentleman smiled
blandly.
“ l am glad that you are satisfied of
my innocence," he mischievously said,
and added: “Did yon lose a large
sum ?"
“ Ono hundred dollars, sir.”
“That is, indeed, a great loss,” Dr.
S remarked, courteously, “ but 1
think if you act on the conductor’s ad
vice vou may recover it.”
“ Do you think Mr. Lawrenoo took
it ?”
A nameless fear seized Jennie’s mind.
“ I think it probable, madam,” Dr.
H answered. “ Just think it all
over and make your conclusions.”
His manner was so kindly that Jennie
felt herself ashamed. Gradually there
dawned on her mind the idea that Alex
ander Lawrence was not only a fraud
but a flirt and a hypocrite. It is easy
for a New England girl to arrive at a
conclusion. The fire flashed to her eyes,
and with the rushing of the blood came
a sense of hatred for the man in whom
she lunl so foolishly confided, and whom
sho now regarded as an impostor. A
feeling of faintness camo over her.
“ O dear, what shall I do?” was all
she could say.
The kind heart of Dr. H was
touched, and he interested himself in tho
young lady, inquiring into all of tho par
ticulars. When Jennie spoke of her par
ents and her home a tender chord was
touched in the clergyman’s heart. Ho
advised her to leave the cars at tho next
station, return to Worcester, and there
Sait the ease in the hands of tho police.
ennio consented to the plan, uml, great
ly to her surprise and pleasure, Dr. 8
volunteered to accompany and assist
her.
Fortunately the up-train was met, at
the next station, and Jennie, with Dr.
H , left the one train to take the
other. Tho excited girl felt ashamed of
her position, and divided her anger be
tween Alexander Lawrence and the au
thor who had dared picture a pick
pocket ue a man with u black beard,
wearing a suit of conventional black.
No longer did she distrust Dr. 8 .
When they reached Worcester Dr.
8 sought tho chief of police, and the
result of tho matter was that Mr. Alex
ander Lawrence was soon in the hands
of the law. Tho missing pocket-book
was not found on his person, but an In
dictment was procured against, him, uml
after an examination he was admitted to
bail. In the strongest terms ho depre
cated the accusation, alleging that he
was “only tlii ling.”
Dr. B— felt confident that the thief
had been scoured, and was equally sure
that, with the conductor’s evidence, lie
would lie convicted. He took Jennie to
a hotel, and, with assurances of hope,
bade her good-night.
Tho poor affrighted girl threw herself
into a chair, and gave vent to her grief
in an outburst of tears. She felt that
her money was lout, Boston an impossi
bility, anil a disgraceful return to Perry
vilie a certainty. In the agony of her
sorrow she frantically pulled off her bat
and threw it from her—when out rolled
the lost pocket-hook 1
Jennie now remembered indistinctly
that she had slipped it from her bosom
into her hat that morning when Mr.
Lawrence had stepped out for a gloss of
water, thinking that it would be safer
there. Who had been so fascinated by
tho flatterer that the act had been for
g< itten.
Dr. S received tho explanatory
confession with a merry laugh. Mr.
Lawrence was released. In tho morn
ing Jennie went on to Boston with Dr.
S , and by him was introduced to a
ladies’ seminary. The SIOO did good
work, and Jennie returned to Perryville
a “finished” young ludj. Of course,
Rev. Dr. 8-—married her and George
Harrison, and Jennie tells her children
of her romance.
What A llod Jones.
Brown and Jones used to bo friends—
•real good friends—but there is a chasm
between thorn now. Jones didn’t know
of it until Brown had passed him several
times without saluting, and then he de
termined to know what v. wrong.
Halting him on the street, lie began :
“ Bee here, Brown, what's come over
you all of a sudden ?”
“ Sir,” replied Brown, with freezing
dignity, as ho drew himself up an extra
inch.
“ What have I said or done to break
our friendship ?” continued Jones.
“ Mr. Jones, you are not the sort of
man 1 supposed yen to be,” unswerod
Brown.
“In what respect ?”
“ Sir, you were a delegate to our coun
ty convention ?”
“ Yes, I was.”
“ For the past seven years you have
professed to be my friend, political and
otherwise ?”
“ So I have— bo I have."
“ Do you remember, sir, of our hav
ing a talk about a week before the con
vention? Do you remember that I said
—that is—l hinted—that is—”
“ Oh, yes, you said that perhaps you
could be induced to accept the nomina
tion of County Treasurer.”
“ Yes, sir. I. said that I was in the
hands of my friends.”
“ I remember it now.”
“And I didn't get a vote, sir—not
even a complimentary vote I”
“ No, I guess you didn't, and now yon
blame me for it. Alas ! Brown, how lit
tle 1 you know about our local politics.
Why, sir, every man who attended a
wani caucus over three times knows that
when u candidate puts himself in the
hands of his friends they at once pro
ceed to hold a funeral ami bury the re
mains ton feet deep I”
Jones made a motion as if to shake
hands and forgive all, but suddenly
changed his mind and walked on, care
fully placing each heel with a thud, aid
keeping ills spinal column as stiff as a
poker.—Free
Am hour’s conversation was easily cur
ried ori between Albany and Lyons, N.
Y., a distance of UO7 miles, by means of
the telephone.
J. L. DENNIS, Editor.
SI.OO a Year.
Matrimony in Russia.
If we may judge from an onoodote in
the SmoUmtleer Rote, saysn London pa
per, there are parts of tho Russian
empire iu which it is no easy matter to
get, married, owing to the autocratic
willfulness of the Russian clergy. A
schoolmaster in the district of Jacknow
was engaged to wed the daughter of a
landowner in the neighborhood, whose
wealth was not at all proportionate to
his acres. The bridegroom, bride, and
the parents of the latter called on the
priest of the lady’s village, in order to
settle tho amount of the wedding fee.
The clergyman fixed it at twenty-five
rubles. . Unhappily tho bride’s hither
was determined to make a show more in
accordance with his ancestral dignity
than with his impoverished condition,
and invited ail his kinsfolk and acquaint
ance from far and neat to attend the oer
omony. Tho result, was that tho pro
cession to the church included no fewer
than eleven carriages, all full of wedding
guests.
When the priest saw this magnificent
preparation ho hurried to the bridegroom
and informed him that the foe for a mar
riage of such pretensions would not be
twenty-five but 100 rublds. When tho
man pleaded his poverty as a school
master, the pastor replied by pointing
to the signs of Ids father-in-law’s wealth.
The wedding party held a consultation,
and, indignant at the priest's conduct,
resolved that the whole procession
should drive off to the next village. The
priest outwitted, them, however. His
messenger arrived at his brother elerio's
door long before the lumbering coaches,
o that when they reached the church
and asked the price nf tho sacerdotal
function the parish priest was ready
with the reply —"One hundred rubles I"
The procession stinted again for a
further village, lint, the messenger lmd
get there before them, and tho priest of
the place could not marry them for less
than 100 rutiles. They experienced a
similar discomfiture, according to the
reports, at no loss than four village
churches, and it was only after a long
drive across the country that they suc
ceeded in finding u little fattier who
readily consented to bestow the sacra
mental benediction of matrimony for the
fee which the lady’s, own pastor had
originally asked.
Arc There Glaciers on Hie Surface of
the Moon 1
This is u question which had long
puzzled tho inhabitants, especially of
Northern countries ; lor the orb was al
ways regarded as a cold body. In fact,
Home of tlm more untutored of tho an
cients supposed tho moon to be an im
mense sheet or globe of transparent ioe
fixed in space, and only made visible by
the depart ure of the sun below the hori
zon. They supposed the surroundings
et I lie moon to be so oold as to previ nt it
from thawing tor ail time.
Now, if it. is true t,lmt, the moon iH a
dead star, as we are told, there are no
glaciers upon it. If, on the other hand,
the moon is not a dead star, it, may have
glaciers oil its surface. It Ims been
shown in n previous article that there is
ono side of the surface of the moon
which we never see, but the probability
is that the unseen side Inis the same con
formation and geological appearance
(such as extinct volcanoes, dried-tip
oceans, etc.) os the side which we can
sec amt which astronomers study through
powerful telescopes.
After all, however, the moon may lie
an orb of perpetual cold, and, even if it
contained glaciers on its surface
similar to those on tho earth, their ac
tion would not create beat. In this con
nection it may la; remarked tlmt I’ref.
Marks, of Philadelphia, stated at a re
cent meeting of the Franklin Institute
that he had made some calculation# of
the maximum speed at, which locomo
tives could be driven before the centri
fugal force on the tires of the driving
wheels would become so great as to
cause them to burn. These calculations,
which, however, were approximate only,
showed that the limit of speed was m
the neighborhood of 150 miles per hour.
Now, some of the glaciers move only
about iui inch iu a day, some even loss.
Dr. H. J. Klein, who two years
ago announced u new crater in tho
moon, has a brief article in Im Nature,
in which lie gave reasons for believing
that the moon is not dead. He has re
cently examined drawings of tho neigh
borhood of the new crater, which con
firm the theory of recent changes on tho
lunar surface, and cites also other draw
ings in further proof thereof. Prof.
Klein aihls that lie announced the now
depression near Ilygiuus as a crater,
from analogy. It is a crater funnel, anil
even ono of the largest. Toward the
south there is a shallow spoon-shaped
hollow, which terminates in a second
small crater. In full sunlight, when tho
interior of tho largo hollow of tho crater
is no longer in shadows tho spoon
shaped hollow may still be seen as a
gray spot. By the use of high telescopic
powers it is remarked that the environs
of the now orator appear to he fissured
in a bewildering manner. Two firm fur
rows, like clefts in the soil, which ex
tend from the north toward the Hnail
mountain, are the finest objects on the
moon.
A ( nrlous Piece or Ilorso Flesh.
A oomispondont. at Marion, Ohio, re
lates the following: A curious piece of
horse flesh was brought to town recently
by a farmer natnrxl Synder, living in tho
south part of this county. Tho animal
is destitute of hair, except the tail, which
is unusually black arid luxuriant. Last
winter the critter was afflicted with an
eruptive disease, known among country
farriers as “valler water,” but among
more scientific veterinary surgeons as
humid exanthema. This mulady caused
the complete destruction of the hair
bulbs, and the animal began rapidly to
shod, leaving the body as stated above.
The skin is remarkably smooth, glossy,
and of a leaden color. The horse was
originally a roan. He is sixteen humls
high, in good condition, and works rog
ulary on ids owner’s farm. Buytler be
came disgusted with tho appearance of
tho quadruped and brought him here to
dispose of him. Early in tho day lie
would havo taken SSO, out before night
ho returned to his home refusing S3OO.
Thk willow of the late Senator Morton,
of Indiana, is in Ban Francisco.
BREVITIES.
Turku are no sweets in family jars.
Could not the doctor's foo bo justly
lulled ill-gotten gains ?
A i'inr.l) of jute in Sampson county,
N. (!., averages twelve feet in height.
Bin Garnet Womuut, tho British
commander in South Africa, is a teeto
taler.
Mas. Prudsno* Lakin, of Newburgh
N. Y., died tho other day at tho ripe old
age of 100.
Mayor Whip, of I’aducah, was fined
I omit in the City Court for engaging in
a street disturbance.
Tire Sophomores of Bates College have
chosen as their orator a colored student,
the son of a former slave.
A without uf gold weighing two and a
half pounds has been taken out of the
Christian mine, in North Carolina.
An infant at Hickory, N. 0., was bap
tized Jesse Fido Riugtuil Fillmore Han
cock Jarvis Dowd ilariier, and is said to
still live.
Thk population of Florida is 271,764,
an iuereso of 84,016 in ten years. Tho
whites number 143,821, and tho colored
127,043.
A 6-year-old son of a prominent mer
chant at Grenada, Miss., attempted to
hang himself on aocount of disappoint
ment in lovo.
Unpbr the laws of Illinois what u j>er
soii moos through ft key-hole cannot be
accepted as evidence in court. But no
Mowing society in tho oountry would re
ject such testimony.
Senator Blaine wears a nickel-plated
wateli that cost him 87.50. Ho says he
refused to toko $lO for it, and that he
means to carry it to tho Bonato us a
product of American skill.
Mrs. Myra Clark Gaines, tho inde
fatigable, is living in retirement in
Washington. Although she is 78 years
old, she is still os brisk and chippor as a
young widow of 40.
An old man in Virginia jumped into
tho well to spite bis wife for running into
debt. She lot him stay thero in three
feet of cold water until ho agreed to
deed her tho wliolo farm.
A change is coming over Venice.
Travelers who wish to boo the old oity
of palaces, logs und 1 agisms, us it was
seen and Htmg of by Byron, must hie
there speedily. The gondolas and gon
doliers will soon havo passed away.
Thh venerable Lucretia Mott is re
ported in rapidly-failing health. Al
though confined to her room, her mind
is strong and bright. Bho resides with
lior son-in-law, Edward M. Davis, on
Oholton hills, Philadelphia, Pa.
A* length tho long history of the
United States, by Mr. George Bancroft,
is drawing toward completion. Tho au
thor set, to work upon thk opus mag
num so far hack as 1825, and has, with
little intermission, been laboring on it
vor since.
Mit. R. H. McDonald, of Ban Fran
cisco, offers SIOO,OOO toward an endow
ment for a Christian University, on con
dition that an equal sum shall be raised
by tlio Baptist, Presbyterian, Episco
palian, Congregational, and Methodist
denominations.
A I,'RimiTENKi) horse ran intoaorookery
ware store at Bangor, tho other day,
going tho whole length of the floor be
fore lie was captured, uml, although sur
rounded on all sides by orookory, lie
was led out without having broken a
single piece.
A nhw process of using up old stool
has been patented in England. By it a
new metal of extraordinary strength and
ductility is alleged to bo introduced,
which is expected to prove of great
value. Hteol remade on thin plan has
sold rapidly at $225 a ton.
Hik F. Roberts, tho conquering hero
of Cundoliar, and so-styled “Savior of
Afghanistan,” is the son of a clergyman
of the Established Church ill Waterford,
Ireland. His brother, Hammi U. Rob
erts, is one of tho OommisHii, icrs of tho
Board of Public Works in Ireland.
Ice for Teething Children.
The New York Run has the following
bit of good nows for worried mothers
and tortured babes:
The pain of teething may he almost
done away, and tho health of tho child
benefited, by giving it fine splin
ters of ice, picked off with a pin, to melt
in its mouth. The fragment is so
small that it is but a drop of warm water
before it can bo swallowed, and the child
has all the coolness for Its feverish gums
without tho slightest injniy. Tho avidity
with which tho little things taste tho
cooling morsel; the instant quiet which
succeeds hours of frotfulness, anil the
sleep which follows the relief are the
best witnesses to this magic remedy. Ice
may lie fed to a three-months’ child this
way, each splinter being no larger than
a common pin, for five or ten minutes,
the result being that it lias swallowed in
that time a teaspoonful of warm water,
which, so far from being a harm, is good
for it, and tho process may lie repeated
hourly as often os the fretting fits from
teething begin.
A Lump of Coal.
For years no one supposed that u
piece of soft coal, dug from its mini) or
lied in the earth, possessed any other
quality than being combustible, or was
vuluable for aiiy purpose than us fuel.
It wus next found that it would afford a
gas which is also combustible. A
chemical analysis proved it to be made
of hydrogen. In process of time, me
chanical and chemical ingenuity de
vised a mode of manufacturing this gas,
and applying it to tho lighting of build
ings and cities on a largo scale. In do
ing tliis, other products of distillation
were developed, until, step by step, tho
following ingredients or materials are
extracted from it:
1. An excellent oil to supply light
houses, equal to the best sperm oil, at
lower cost.
2. Benzole—ft light sort of etherial
fluid, which eva[x>rates easily, and, com
bined with vapor or moist uir, is used
for the purpose of portable gas-lamps,
so called.
8. Naphtha—a heavy {fluid, useful to
dissolve gutto-peroha, india-rubber, oto.
4. An oil excellent for lubricating
purposes.
5. Asphaltum, which is a black, solid
substance, used in making varnishes.
6. Puraifine, a white orystallino sub
stance, resembling white wax, which
can be made into beautiful wax candles;
it inelts at a temperature of 110 de
grees, und affords an excellent light.
All these substances are now made
'rom soft coal.
A Widower.
A Western man having lost his wife,
a sympathizing friend remarkod upon his
woe-begone appearance.
“ Well, I guess you would look thin,
too,” was the melancholy rejoinder, “ if
you hail to get up before daylight, make
1 the fires, draw water, split wood, and
: feed tho cattle before breakfast. I tell
!• you wliat it is, if T don’t got some ono to
j till poor, dear, sainted Maria’s place, I
shall be resting by her side before many
I weeks.”