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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.”