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THE STANDARD AND EXPRESS.
W.'a. "Ik“*HALK,} Edltor * *“ d Proprietor..
NEWS OF THE WEEK
EAST.
Gov. Hartranft, of Pennsylvania,
lias issued warrants for the execution of Wm.
E. Udderzook, Harrell O’Mara and Patrick
Irwin, on November 12.
SOUTH.
The yellow fever is about over with at
Pensacola.
There arq now in Louisiana twenty
eight companies of regular troops.
Within the last few weeks over sixty
mules have been stolen from plantations be
tween Austin and Hernando, Mississippi.
The resignation of Richard W. Bus
teed, United States judge of Alabama, has
been received and accepted by the president.
His successor has not been named.
A freight train on the Memphis rail
road fell through a trestle near Blackfish
Bayou, Saturday night, fatally injuring the
engineer and one or two other persons.
At Newcastle, Henry county, Ken
tucky, Saturday evening last, a difiiculty was
sprung between Mr. Thomas Buford, brother
of Gen. Buford, and Mr. Polk, sheriff of the
county, which erded by the former receiving
two shots from a pistol in the hands of the
latter. The lirst shot took effect in the left
breast and ranged to the right shoulder blade,
and the second took effect in the left hand.
The wounds were not of a dangerous char
acter.
A train loaded with five companies of
the 13th infantry, on their way from the west
ern department to New Orleaus, ran ofT the
track between Trenton and Dyer, on the Mo
bile A Ohio ra lroa-1. The accident was caused
by the breaking of a flange on one of the en
gine wheels. The fireman, John Jordan, was
nstantly killed, and the engineer was badly
bruised. Two of the soldiers, Wm. McLingsey
and T. Far man, were killed, and four wounded,
two it is supposed fatally.
Heavy frosts fell on the 13th, through
out Kentucky and northern Tennessee, over
the great tobacco region. Well informed men
from the country say great damage has been
done tho growii g crop, estimating that from
one-half to three-quarters of the entire crop
has been killed. Specials to the Courier-Jour
nal corroborate accounts of great damago all
along the Nashville road. The market has
been excited in consequence, the advance
prices ranging from to lc per pound.
The condition of the cotton crop is
ndicated by the following state of averages
deduced from the October returns of the de
partment of agriculture. The crop of Vir
ginia is too small to influence perceptibly in
the general result. North Carolina 85, a de
cline of two per cent, during September.
South Carolina 82, a decline of four per cent.
Georgia 80, an improvement of three per cent
Florida 81, an improvement of four per cent.
Alabama 75, a decline of six per cent. Missis
sippi 74, no change. Louisiana 62, no change.
Texas 70, an increase of five per cent. Ar
kansas 55, an increase of eight per cent.
Tennesseo 56, an increaso of four per ceut.
The above averages refer to only the condition
of the crops on the Ist of October, including
its state of development, vitality and health
fnlness. This is but one element in the cal
culation of the yield in quantify, which has
not yet been completed.
foreign.
The duchess of Edinburg has been
delivered of a son.
Important dispatches have been re- j
ceived from Madrid in relation to negotiations
for the surrender of Don Carlos’ army.
Dispatches have been received from
Para reporting a conflict between the Por
tuguese and the Brazilians. Several were
killed and ten wounded.
Don Carlos has returned to Tolosa.
Boporte continue to be received of the defeat
of the Carlists and of the arrival of insur
gents in the government camps.
Von Arnim’s son has written a letter
denying that his father has any hand in the !
publication of the ultramontane pamphlet
enti:led "Revolution from Above,” in which j
the foreign office feard the missing documents ]
would be published.
A London dispatch says the compen
sation paid England by the Madrid government
amounts to $75,000, $40,000 of which is paid
on account of the Virgiuius butchery, and the
remainder covers outstanding claims. Eng
land would not recognize the present govern
ment until all the claims were admitted.
The members of the Austrian Polar
expedition declare that explorations in the
direction of the north pole are hopeless of a
satisfactory result, and that the reports of the
existence of an open Polar sea are untrue. xV
similar opinion has also been arrived at by
nearly all the leading geographies and scien
tific bodies.
MISCELLANEOUS.
Ex-Senator Cattell, who has been ap
pointed a special treasury agent to negotiate
the new loan, willbe assigned to duty in Lon
don.
The October returns of the depart
ment of agaiculture indicate the average con
dition of the cotton crop as 86 per cent, against
83 per cent, in September.
It is ascertained on inquiry of the
United States arbitrator, of the commission
for the adjudication of claims of American
citizens for damages resulting from the pres
ent rebellion in Cuba, that at least twelve
cases, with proofs, have been presented, and
the commission only awaits the preparation of
briefs before formally considering them.
The notice heretofore given by Secre
tary Bristow, that it was his inteniion to re
move one of any two of a family in the employ
of the treasury, was in a partial measure put
into execution to-dav by notifications sent to
twenty-five clerks that their services would be
no longer required after the Ist proximo. The
blow feU particularly heavy in Treasurer Spin
ner's bureau.
The police of Washington have ar
rested a gang of book thieves that have been
making extensive depredations on the com
mittee rooms of the capitol. One thousand
three hundred and fifty pounds of documents
have been recovered. Most of them are val
uable volumes and cannot be replaced.
Thieves systematically entered the rooms and
carried away their plunder.
No official information has been re
ceived by our government or by the represent
atives of foreign governments at Washington,
confirmatory of the newspaper accounts that
Spain has paid indemnity to Great Britain in
satisfaction of damages in tho Virginius case.
The correspondence between the United States
and Spain continues, but with no prospect of
*!ement by this means. Therefore, it is
i&ble that our claims for indemnity will
become a subject of arbitratiou according to
the terms of the Fish-Pole protocol.
Sohe curious statistics respecting the
duration of patents have been recently
published in England. It is found that
above 79 per cent, of the patents are
allowed to elapse at the end of the third
year, and 90 per cent, at the end of the
seventh. There are, therefore, only 10
per cent, which, in the opinion of the
inventors, are worth £IOO at the end of
seven years’ trial. If these figures
all .rd anything like a fair indication of
tho ieal use of patents either to inven
tors or the public, then the record is a
melancholy one, and is marked by long
lines of failure and disappointment,
only relieved at wide intervals by occa
sional doubtfal successes.
After a Kansas City man has sat by
his chamber window and fiddled “ Old
Dog Tray ” eighty or ninety times pa
tience ceases to Vie a virtue and bricks
begin to lodge in his hair,
tackixg ship.
The weather leech of the topsail ehiverr..
The bowlines strain and the lee shrouds slacken.
The braces are taut, the lithe boom quivers,
And the wave3 with the coming squall-cloud
blacken.;
Open one point on the weather bow,
Is the light-house tall on Fire Island head ;
There’s a shade of doubt on the captain’s brow,
And the pilot watches the heaving lead.
The ship bends lower before the breeze,
And as her broadside fair to the blast she lays ;|
And swifter springs on the rising seas,
As the pilot calls, “ Stand by for stays! ”
Then “ silence all! ”as each in his place.
With the gathered coil in his hardened hands
By tack and bowline, by sheet and brace.
Waiting the watchword, impatient stands.
And the light on Fire Island head draws near,
As trumpet-winged, the pilot’s shout,
From bis post on the bowsprit heel, I hear.
With the welcome call of, “ Beady about! ”
No time to spare—it is touch and go,
And the captain growls, “ Down helm! Hard
down!”
As my weight on the whirling spokes I throw,
While the heavens grow black with the storm
cloud’s frown.
High o’er the knight-heads dies the spray,
As she meets the shock of the plunging sea;
And my shoulder stiff to tho wheel I lay,
As I answer, “ Aye, aye sir! Hard a lee ! ”
With the swerving leap of a startled steed,
The ship flies fast in the eye of the wind ;
The dangerous shoals on the lee recede,
And the headlands white we leave behind.
The topsails flutter, the jibs collapse,
And belly and tug at the groaning cleats;
The spanker slats, and the mainsail flaps.
And thunders the order, “ Tacks and sheets ! ”
’Mid the rattle of blocks and the tramp of the crew’
Hisses the rain of the rushing squall;
The sails are aback from clew to clew.
And now is the moment for “ Mainsail haul! ”
And the heavy yards, like a baby’s toy,
By fifty strong arms arc- swiftly swung;
She holds her way, and I look with joy,
For the first white spray o’er the bulwarks flung.
“ Let go and haul ’lis the last command,
And the head-sails fill to the blast once more;
Astern and to leeward lies the land,
With its breakers white on the shingly shore.
What matters the reef, or the rain, or the squall,
I steady the helm for the open sea—
The hrst mate clamors, “ Belay there all! ”
And the’eaptain’s breath once more comes free.
And so off shore let the good ship fly—
Little care I how the gust may blow,
In my forecastle bunk in a jacket dry—
Eight bells have struck and my watch is below.
PUT YOURSELF IN MY PLACE.
“ I cannot wait any longer. I must
have my money, and if yon cannot pay
it I must foreclose the mortgage and
sell the place,” said Mr. Merton.
“ In that case,” said Mr. Bishop, “it
will of course be told at a great sacri
fice, and, after all the struggles I have
made, my family will again be home
less. It is very hard. I only wish yon
had to earn your money as I do mine ;
yon might then know something of th
hard life of a poor man. If yon could
only in imagination put yourself in my
place, I think you would have a little
mercy on me.”
“It is useless talking; I extended
this one year, and I can do so no long
er,” replied Mr. Merton, as he turned
to his desk and continued writing.
The poor man rose from his seat and
walked sadly out of Mr. Merton’s office;
his last hope was gone. He had just
recovered from a long fit of illness,
which had swallowed up the means with
which he had intended to make the last
payment on biß house. True, that gen
tleman had waited one year, when he
had failed to meet the demand, owing
to illness in his family, and he had felt
very much obliged to him for doing so.
This year ho bad been laid up for
several months, during which he could
earn nothing, and all his savings were
then needed for the support of himself
and family. Again he had failed, and
now he would again be homeless, and
have to begin the world anew. Had
heaven forsaken him an * given him over
to the tender mercies of the wicked ?
After he had left the office, Mr. Mer
ton could not drive away from his
thoughts that remark to which the poor
man in his grief had given utterance,
“I wish you had to earn your money as
I do mine.”
In the midst of a row of figures, “ Put
yourself in my place” intruded.
Once after it had crossed his mind,
he laid down his pen, saying, “ Well, I
think I should find it rather hard. I
have a mind to drop in there this after
noon, and see how it fares with his
family; that man has roused my curi
osity.”
About five o’clock he put on a gray wig
and some old, cast-off clothes, walked to
the residence of Mr. Bishop, and knocked
at the door. Mrs. Bbliop, a pale, weary
looking woman, opened it; the poor old
man requested permission to enter and
rest awhile, saying he was very tired
with his long journey, for he had walked
many miles that day.
Mrs. Bishop cordially invited him in,
and gave him the best seat tho room af
forded. She then began to make prep
arations for tea. The old gentleman
watched her attentively. He saw there
was no elasticity iu her step, no hope in
her movements; and pity for her began
to steal into his heart. When her hus
band entered, her features relaxed into
a smile, and she forced a cheerfulness
into her manner. The traveler noted it
all; and he felt himself forced to ad
mire this woman who could assume a
cheerfulness she did not feel for her
husband’s sake. After the table was
prepared, there was nothing upon it but
bread, butter and tea. They invited
the stranger to eat with them, saying,
“We have not much to offer you, but a
cup of tea will refresh you after your
long journey.”
He accepted their hospitality, and as
they discussed the frugal meal, he led
them, without seeming to do so, to talk
of their affairs.
“I bought this piece of land,” said
Mr. Bishop, “at a very low price, aud
instead of waiting, as I ought to have
done, nntil I had saved the money to
build, I thought I would borrow two
hundred dollars. The interest on the
money would not be nearly as much as
the rent I was paying, and I would be
saving something by doing it. I did
not think there wouid be any difficult
in paying back the borrowed money.
But the first year my wife and ene of
my children were ill, and the expenses
left me without the means to pay the
debt. Mr. Merton agreed to wait an
other year, if I would pay the interest.
I did that. This year I was for seven
months unable to work at my trade and
earn anything ; and of course when pay
day comes around, and this is very soon,
I shall again be unable to meet the de
mand.”
“ But,” said the stranger, “ will not
Mr. Merton wait another year, if you
make all the circumstances known to
him ?”
“No, sir,” replied Mr. Bishop, “I
saw him this morning, and he said he
must have the money, and should be
obliged to foreclose.”
“ He must be very hard hearted,” re
plied the traveler.
“ Not necessarily so,” said Mr. Bish
op. “ The fact is, these rich men know
nothing of the struggles of the poor.
They are men just like the rest of man
kind, and I am sure if they but had the
faintest idea of what the poor have to
pass through, their hearts and their
purses would open. Yon know it has
passed into a proverb, * When a poor
man needs assistance, he should apply
to the poor.’ The reason is obvious.
The poor only know the ourse of pover
ty. They know how heavily it falls,
crushing the spirit out of a man; and,
to nse my favorite expression, they can
at once put themselves in the unfortu
nate one’s place and appreciate his diffi
culties, and are therefore always ready
to render assistance as far as they are
able; and if Mr. Merton had the least
idea of what I aDd my family had to
pass through, I think he would be will
ing to wait several years for his money,
rathe* than distress ns. ”
With what emotion the stranger lis-
I tened may be imagined. Anew world
was being opened to him. He was pass
ing through an experience that had
never been his before. Shortly after
the conclusion of tho meal, he rose to
take his leave, thanking Mr. and Mrs.
Bishop for their kind hospitality. They
invited him to stay all night, telling
him he was welcome to what they had.
He thanked them and said, “ I will
trespass on your kindness no longer. I
think I can reach the next village be
fore dark, and be so much fnrthor on
my journey.”
Mr. Mer ton did not sleep much that
night. B'e lay awake thinking. He
had received anew revelation. The
poor had always been associated in his
mind with stupidity and ignorance, and
the first poor family he had visited he
had found far in advance, in intelligent
sympathy and real politeness, of tho ex
quisites and fashionable butterflies of
the day.
The next day a boy called at the cot
tage, and left a package in a large blue
envelope, addressed to Mr. Bishop.
Mrs. Bishop was very much alarmed
when she took it; for large blue envel
opes were associated in her mind with
law and lawyers, and thought that it
boded no good. She put it away until
her husband came home from his work,
when she handed it to him.
He opened it in silence, read its con
tents, and said frequently, “ Thank
heaven!”
“ What is it, John ?” inquired his anx
ious wife.
“ Good news,” replied John ; “ such
news that I had never hoped for, or even
dreamed of.”
“ What is it—what is it? Tell me
quick—l want to hear if it is anything
good.”
“ Mr. Merton has canceled the mort
gage, release I me from debt, both the
interest and principal, and says any
time I need any further assistance, if I
will let him know I shall have it,”
“ I am so glad, it puts new life into
me,” said the now happy wife. “ But
what can have come over Mr. Merton ?”
“I do not know. It seems strange
after the way he talked to me yesterday
morning. I will go right over to his
office and tell him how happy he has
made us.”
He found Mr. Merton in, and expres
sed his’gratitude in glowiDg terms.
“ What could have induced you,” he
asked, “ to show us so much kindness ?”
“I followed your suggestions,” re
plied Mr. Merton, ‘ ‘ and put myself in
your place. I expect that it would sur
prise you very much to learn that the
strange traveler to whom you showed so
much kindness yesterday was myself.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Mr. Bishop,
“can that be true ? How did you dis
guise yourself so well ?”
“I was not so much disguised after
all, but you could not very readily asso
ciate Mr. Merton, the lawyer, with a
poor wayfaring man—ha ! ha ! ha !”
laughed Mr, Merton.
’ “ Well, it is a good joke,” said Mr.
Bishop; “ good in more senses than
one. It has terminated very pleasantly
for me.”
“I was surprised,” said Mr. Merton,
“ at the broad and liberal views you ex
pressed of men and their actions gener
ally. I supposed I had greatly the ad
vantage over you in means, education
and culture ; yet how cramped and nar
row-minded have been my views beside
yours! That wife of yours is an esti
mable woman, and that boy of yours
will be an honor to any man. I tell
you, Bishop,” said the lawyer, becom
ing animated, “ you are rich—rich be
yond what money can make you. You
have treasures that gold will not buy.
I tell you, you owe me no thanks.
Somehow, I seem to have lived years
since yesterday morning. I have got
into anew world. What I learned at
your house is worth more than you owe
me, and I am. your debtor yet. Here
after, I shall take as my motto, ‘Put
yourself in his place,’ and try to regu
late my actions by it.”
Wild Geese in the West.
Much cunning is exhibited by these
birds in localities where they are fre
quently disturbed. We have often
seen them in the great swamps of the
Bureau Valley along the Illinois come
in about dark, when it was just too late
to draw a sight, noiselessly stealing
along, so as to evade the random shot
of the hunter returning to camp after a
long day’s work. So attached are they
to their old grounds, and liable to be
pursued at night by reckless adventur
ers, that after a few warnings they baffle
ilie most intelligent. Should their line
of entry be discovered to-night as they
come across the marsh from the south,
to morrow night, if you watch, you may
hear the vibration of their wings as
they pass over the timber to the north,
in their appioach to the old rice pond,
or open water of the big slough. Upon
all other occasions, and al o when dis
turbed, they exhibit their usual pro
pensity to indulge in gabble and goose
talk.
The most prominent among the varie
ties iu the west is the Canada goose.
The next, and existing in great num
bers, is the white-fronted or laughing
goose, called by many “brant.” Of
the regular brent-goose we have but
few. We killed one out of a flock in
the Illinois river, in 1860, on a sand
bar, and believe it is the only flock we
ever saw in that valley. The brent
goose is about half the size of the Can
ada variety, and is about two-thirds as
large as the white-fronted, mottled, or
laughing-goose. But in the absence of
the regular brent-goose, the mottled
bird known as the laughing-goose car
ries the name of brant. And brant it
is, so far as the average shooter is in
formed ; for few of them have ever seen
a brent-goose—and this is the only bird
which, to their knowledge, ever bore
the name. These same fellows call a
partridge a pheasant, and an English
snipe a woodcock.
It is amusing to watch a flock of
laughing geese as they approach a fa
vorite feeding ground or a resting place.
They come first in the regular acute
aDgle line of flight. Suddenly they
break ranks, and with one accord the
whole flock begins a series of evolu
tions. tumbling and turning high in air,
and then descending in a most comical
and irregular manner, to the amuse
ment of the observer, all the while in
dulging in jabber more resembling the
merry laughing of a bevy of school
girls than any thing else, from which
peculiarity they receive their name. As
a table bird it is highly esteemed, and
is generally preferred to the Canada
goose. In point of numbers it exceeds
the latter in this locality, while in other
parts the ratio is reversed.
They visit the west in March and
April, on their regular migrations to
the lakes and bays of northern Minne
sota, the British possessions, aud Labra
dor, remaining with us sometimes as
late as May in small detachments.
Many are killed before they reach their
northern breeding grounds. After rais
ing the usual brood, and replenishing
their thinne ' ranks, they gather for the
autumnal return flight, and in October
we see them wending their way to their
old and favorite haunts, until the cold
weather drives them southward to tho
great marshes of Arkansas and the
lower Mississippi. As they pass north
in March, generally before a southerly
gale, which carries them along with lit
tle apparent effort, their coming is wel
comed as a harbinger of returning
spring. They come, too, in large num
bers, accompanied by all the usual va
rieties of water-fowl in even greater
profusion.— Harper's Magazine.
In Paris they call gray haira a “lit
tle dust from the road of life,”
CARTERS VILLE, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 28, 1874.
THE SAVAGES.
Statistics of Hostile and Friendly In*
dians-Official Figures.
Correspondence of New York Herald.
Little is known by the general public
of the amount of our Indian population.
I send you reliable data upon the sub
ject, gathered from official sources. Of
course no Indian census can be perfectly
reliable. The strength of tribes is
generally computed by the number of
their lodges or wigwams, and six souls
are allowed to every lodge. The num
ber of warriors, or fighting men, to a
tribe is usually counted at one to every
lodge, though in some bands the pro
portion is greater, rising, in exceptional
instances, to an average of two and a
half warriors to a lodge. The general
rule is to count one warrior for every
six Indians—men, women and children.
Where the census is taken at some
agencies, by families or individuals, the
number present is counted, and the ab
sentees are accounted for by the head
of each family bringing to the agent a
bundle of twigs, each twig representing
an absentee. Where annuities in money
or presents are given it is the interest of
the head of each family to make it
large to increase his proportion of re
ceipts, and thus the census by twigs is
uot a reliable one. East of the Rocky
mountains there is an Indiau population
of 188,415. Of these 17,937 are in
Nebraska and Dakota territory, as fol
lows :
Winnefcagoes, 1,512 ; Omahas, 1,002 ;
O toes and Missonrias, 417; Pawm es,
2,831; Santee Sioux, 1,394; Sacs and
Foxes of Missouri. 82; lowns, 246;
Brule and Ogallala Sioux, 7,885 ; Chey
ennes, 1,800; Arapahoes, 750. Of these
the Brule and Ogallala Sioux, and the
Cheyennes and Arapahoes are hostile.
Tney inhabit the country north of Ne
braska, and from the Missouri river
on the east to the Powder river on the
west.
In addition to these there are in Da
kota 28,034, as follows; Lower Brule
Sioux, 1,600 : Lower Yanktonnais Sioux,
2,250 ; Two Kettle Sioux, 750; Black
feet Sioux, 1,200; Minneconjoux Sioux,
3,060; Sans Arc Sioux, 720; Upper
Yanktonnais Sioux, 2,400 ; Ponca Sioux,
977; Oncpapa Sioux, 3,000; Ogallala
Sioux, 3,000; Yankton Sioux, 2,500;
Wappeton and Sisseton Sioux, 1,637 ;
Arickarees, 1,500; Gros Ventres, 400;
Mandans, 400; Assinnaboines, 2,640.
Of these the Brules, Blackfeet, Sans
Arc, Oucpapas, Arickarees, Gros Ven
tres, Maudans and Assinnaboines are
hostile.
In Kansas, eastern Colorado and
western Indian territory are the Pofcto
watomies, Sacs and Foxes of Missouri,
Shawnees, Delawares, Seuecas,. Kinsas
or Kaws, Kickapoos, Ottawas, Kiowas
and Comanches, Chippewas and Man
sees, and Quapawa, making a total of
17,412. Of these the Kiowas and Co
manches, Arapahoes and Apaches are
hostile.
In the Indian territory are the Creeks,
Cherokees. Choctaws, Chickasaws, Sem
inoles, Wichitas, Delawares and a few
other tribes, all friendly, amounting to
47,804. -
In New Mexico are the Navajoes,
some small bands of Utes, Apaches,
and Apaches and Miembres, and tho
Pneblas, amounting to 20,059.
In Colorado there are 5,000 Utes.
In Montana there are the Flatheads,
Pend d’Oreilles and Kootenays, Black
feet, Piegans, Blood, Gros Ventres and
Crows, amounting to 19,360. Of these
the Crows are friendly.
In Utah and Wyoming are the Sho
shones or Snakes, the Utahs, a few Utes
and mixed Shoshones and Bannocks, in
all 25,250. These Indians are generally
friendly.
In audition to these there are in Min
nesota the Chippewap, in detached
bands, numbering 5,879; in lowa a
wandering baud of Sacs -nd Foxes,
numbering 264 ; in Wisconsin wander
ing bands of Winnebagoes, 700, and
the Pottowatomies. numbering 650.
The Pawnees, Utes, Shoshones or
Snakes, Arickarees and Crows are the
euemies of the Sioux. The Northern
Cheyennes and Arapahoes are the allies
of the Sioux, by association and inter
marriage with them. Four or five years
ago apparent differences arose between
the Sioux and the Cheyennes and Ara
pahoee, and the latter made overtures
to the Shoshones to join them against
the Sioux. Washakie, the chief of the
Shoshones, placing no reliance in the
good faith of the Cheyennes and Ara
pahoes, declined to entertain the propo
sition made by them, and the alliance
was not. effected.
In 1832 a severe battle took place on
the Chug river, a few miles south of the
present site of Fort Laramie, between
the Sioux and Cheyennes and Arapa
hoes, for possession of the territory. A
treaty of peace was then made, when it
was agreed that the territory north of
the Platte river should belong to the
Sioux, and that south of it to the Chey
ennes and Arapahoes. In 1811 a feud
arose iu the Sioux camp, and a consid
erable number of the tribe left, went
south and ranged with the Cheyennes
in the Republican river country. The
seceders were given the name of the
“ Cut-off bands,” and now number for
ty lodges. In 1844 a social feud arose
in the camp of the Cheyennes and Ara
pahoes and 140 lodges of the Cheyennes
and sixty lodges of Arapahoes went
north and joined the Sioux. They con
stitute what is now known as the North
ern Cheyennes and Arapahoes. The
chief man among the Sioux is Red
Cloud. He is not a hereditary chief,
but a successful soldier, who, followed
at first by a few adventurous spirits,
has now, by success at arms, a retinue of
100 lodges of Ogallalas and 130 of
Brules. Spotted Tail is a Brule, with a
following of 200 lodges. Iron Shell
and Man-Afraid-of-His-Horses are minor
chiefs, respectively of the Brules and
Ogallalas. The principal chief of the
Arapahoes and Cheyennes is Medicine
Man.
The Sioux, Arapahoes and Cheypnues
hunt in the Powder river country, and
winter in the Black hills; a portion of
the Brules and Cut Off bands hunt on
the Republican river. The Republican
valley will, however, soon cease to be a
hunting-ground. It is already occupied
by great numbers of white men, who
make a business of killing the buffalo,
not for robes, but for the leather to be
obtained from tanning the hides. The
buffalo leather is superior to the leather
made from the hides of domestic cattle
for all belting for machinery.
West of the Rocky mountains there is
an Indian population of 143,705. Of
these there are in Oregon, cut up into
small bands, 7,040, all friendly. In
Idaho there are 6,044, ill friendlv. Of
these the largest tribe is the Nez Perces,
numbering 3,200 souls. In Washington
territory there are 15,494 Indians, most
ly in small bands, peaceable or well
disposed. In Nevada there are numer
ous small tribes, numbering in all 12,-
720, and all friendly and peaceable, ex
cept the Goshrites, indefinite bands to
the number of 800 Indians, reported
wild and treacherous.
In California there are 23.807 Indians
of various bands, all friendly except the
Piutcs, who number 4,000, and the Ser
ranos, a small tribe of 115, both of
which are hostile.
In Arizona are the Yumas, Cheme
huevis. New River Indians, Cocopas,
Pah-Utes, Mnjaves, Hualopais, Pimas,
Maricopas, Papagoes, Mogins, Casinos,
Tonto Apaches, Pinals, and Coyoteros
and Sierra Bianoos. The strength of
some of these is unknown. As far as
ascertained they number 16,200 persons.
The Hualapais, Yarapals, Tonto Apach
es, Pinals, and Coyoteros and Sierra
Bianoos are hostile—the rest are friend
ly or peaceable.
In Alaska there are 62,400 Indians, of
whom 20,000 are Esquimaux. The Hy-
das, Kakes and Awks are the hostile
tribes in this territory, and number in
all 2,600.
To recapitulate, there are :
East cf the Rocky mountains 188.415
West of the Rocky mountains 143,705
Grand total 332,120
Herding on the Plains.
A correspondent of the Chicago Trib
une, writing from Wyoming, describes
the system of cattle-herding there, and
the habits of the animals : A herd of
cattle, left to itself, forms a sort of or
ganization, and is governed by set rules.
In approaching the herd, first we see a
few stragglers on the hills, that look
like Indians, and which are the sentinels
for the great body quietly feeding under
their protection. If these warders or
sentinels are alarmed, tho whole herd
rushes together and prepares for flight
or battle. The hulls command, and
the dams and calves render them a
cheerful obedience. The cattle graze
in families of two, four and six head;
then groups of a dozen ; and lastly we
come upon the great body of bulls,
steers, oxen and cows mixed promiscu
ously together. I visited a herd on the
Laramie plains and observed them close
ly. I saw their warders, or sentinels,
their families, and next the mass of the
her,!. We drove for miles and miles—
young bulls bellowing around us, heif
ers kicking up their heels and scamper
ing away, and old dams hastening to
their young, as if fearful we came to
rob them of their pretty calves. It was
a grand sight, this herd of fifty bulls
and three thousand cows, with their
eighteen hundred calves. It seemed a
mountain of beef and a large fortune
for one man to possess ; yet I was told
the gentleman who owned this herd had
three others larger still.
If pasturing on high ground, about
the middle of the day, the cattle leave
the hills and go to the bottoms for
water. About four o’clook they go back
to graze in the high grounds, on the
rich gramma and bunch grasses. Here
they remain until nightfall, when they
lie down on the warm, sandy soil, and
sleep until morning.
The little family herds of four, six,
eight and ten, stick close together, and
seem to have interests in common, de
fending each other, and exhibiting con
siderable signs of ooneern and affection
if one of their number gets lost or falls
into trouble. In traveling back and
forth to water they march in single file,
and follow the same path, like the buf
falo, wearing deep ruts into the earth.
The oattle frequently go four or five
miles to water, and, having slaked their
thirst, nearly always return to the place
from which they started out.
Not more than two-thirds of the men
who try stock-raising on the plains suc
ceed. With one it is bad luck; another’s
stock is stolen ; another is lazy ; another
drinks ; and a fifth gambles off not only
tho profits, but sometimes the whole
herd. A man, to raise stock, must be
not only sober, but industrious; and,
when the storms come, he must be
brave, and keep his cattle together, and
feed them, even at the risk of his life.
In time of peril or danger, the herder
must never let go his grip ; if he does,
the herd is ruined, and the labor of
years lost.
Enropean Capitalists to Pay Sonthern
State Debts*
N. O. Special to Louisville Courier-Jourual.
In July last there arrived in this
country tho duly commissioned repre
sentative of European capitalists hold
ing upwards of $200,000,000 of bonds
of the southern states, armed with the
power to effect with such states a
settlement of their indebtedness, ac
cording to the terms to be hereinafter
set forth. This gentleman is now here,
and as a partial result of his mission he
has effected settlements with the follow
ing states in the sums given :
Virginia $34,000,000
South Carolina 10,000,000
North Carolina 20,000 000
Alabama 8,000,000
Arkansas (extra debt) 3,500,000
Total $75,500,000
The eight million fraudulent debt of
South Carolina has not been settled, but
negotiations looking to an adjustment
are in progress. The terms of settle
ment in all the states are in the main
similar. The general features of the
agreement are simply that in the con
sideration of these states entering into
a contraot and ratifying it by state leg
islation, the foreign bondholders agree
to fund the debt, principal and interest,
and extend the time of payment of the
principal for thirty years at four to five
per cent, interest, as may be agreed.
His visit to this city is for the purpose
of eff?cting the same arrangements as
to our state debt, and he has been in
conference with Gov. McEnery and
other gentlemen; but, owing to the un
settled condition of our affairs, he has
not yet attempted to give the matter,
in this state, official shape. The draft
of a bill, to be submitted to the state
legislatures in ratification of the con
tract, has been approved by the execu
tives of the states that have already
agreed to a settlement, and its passage
will be urged by the respective govern
ments. This gentleman states that he
has authority to settle with Louisiana
for her entire debt, foreign and domes
tic, principal and interest, and to extend
the debt thirty years, and will accept
new funded bonds at four per cent., but
is only deterred for the reasons al
ready alluded to. The act whose rati
fication by the states effecting the set
tlement is indicated, provides a sinking
fund for the positive redemption of the
principal, and vests in the holders and
owners of suoh new bonds absolute
power and authority to enforce the levy
and collection of taxes as authorized by
the act to pay the interest and to pfo
vide the sinking fund to pay the prin
cipal. _____
Level of the Great Salt Lake.
Silliman’s Journal for September
gives, on the authority of the Utah
Mining Journal, some very remarkable
statements in regard to the level of the
Great Salt Lake. The valley was set
tled in 1847. The level of the lake is
now twelve or fourteen feet higher than
it was then. From 1847 to 1852 there
was no noticeable change. From 1852
to 1856 there was a rise to the extent
of abont six feet above the lowest level
of the first-mentioned year. From 1856
to 1861 a gradual subsidence took place,
until, in the fall of 1861, the level was
two feet below the lowest mark of 1852,
and the lak9 was contracted to about
three-fourths of its area in that year.
But from the spring of 1861 there went
on a s'eady rise, the lake extended to
once and a half its area in 1861, and its
surface stood twelve feet above the ear
lier level. Since that time the rise and
fall have been about equal, the tenden
cy being on the whole to gain, the fluc
tuations not exceeding two feet. As to
the prospects for the futur-, it is stated
that the humidity of the atmosphfre
annually increases as the area of culti
vation becomes greater, and, as a conse
quence, the evaporation becomes less.
On the other hand, the mountain streams
are steadily enlarging. Thousands of
acres of farming, meadow and pasture
lands have been submerged along tho
eastern and northern shores of the lake,
and many square miles of valuable
lands still occupi and by the farmers will
be completely inundated should the
waters rise but a few inches above the
level of the past five years, unless pro
tected by levees. A monument has bqen
recently placed near the shore of the
lake to indicate the fluctuations of its
level. This will be watched with great
| interest for the next few years.
ARCTIC DISCOVERY.
A Claim that Americans Have Found
Land Higher than tlie Austrians.
Dr. Hayes, in a letter to the New
York Tribune respecting the Arctic dis
covery, says :
The route to the pole by way of
Smith’s sound wa3 first tried by Dr.
Kane and its practicability was first
demonstrated bv myself. Crossing
Smith’s sound with dog-sledges over
the ice from Dr, Kane’s winter-quarters,
I discovered and reached Grinnell Land,
finding everything near it a smooth belt
of ice of the last winter’s freezing,
proving that while the center and east
ern sides of the sound were choked
with heavy and almost impassable hum
mocks, the west coast was entirely free
when the previous winter had set in.
This fact I reported to Dr. Kane, and
upon my return to tho United States
from that expedition, I published the
opinion that by hugging the west
oo&st a free passage ;could be had
through the sounds. Upon thestrength
of this argument my expedition of 1860
was organized ; but not having (by rea
son of lack of means) the steam power
which I desired, I was unable to reach
the west coast in the teeth of heavy
gales and drifting ice-fields, and was
forced into winter quarters, with my
little schooner badly crippled, on the
east side, in latitude 78 deg. 17 min.
In this respect my fortune was exactly
that of Dr. Kane, neither of us having
steam power. From winter quarters I
traveled north with dog sledges over
the ice nearly three hundred miles,
measured as the erow flies, until I was
arrested by open water a little below
latitude 82 deg., my highest determined
position by solar latitude beii g 81 deg.
37 min., on Grinnell Land. Beyond
this I made a good pull northward, but
having no solar altitude I could not fix
my position beyond 81 deg. 37 min.
with accuracy. Capt. Hall traversed
Smith sound in the steamer Polaris
without difficulty, as I bad long before
predicted oould bo done, and passing
over the route which I had passed over
with dog-sledges, he reached the open
water which I sighted. His highest
latitude was 82 degrees 16 minutes—
some twenty-five or thirty miles nearer
tho pole than mine. But he was there
iu August, a most open month, while I
was there in May, before thawing had
fairly set in. He was in a ship, and I
in a dog-sledge ; but the open 6ea was
to both our eyes the same, and, as I be
lieve, in both cases illimitable, except
as here and there obstructed by loose,
drifting fields of ice. The highway to
the pole was, I believe, open to
Captain Hall, and, had he lived,
I believe he would have reach
ed it. I believe the. same thing
could have been done by my old com
mander, Dr. Kane, in August, 1853,
aud by myself in had either of us
been blessed with steam; and I believe,
ns I have repeatedly assertod publicly,
that the sound can be navigated with
steam power any year, and in proof of
this we may cite the fact that Capt,
Hall experienced no difficulty whatever*
in the Polaris, which, as if it were but
a pleasure voyage, steamed in six days
from Upernavik to the highest point
ever leached by any vessel; and even
the land he sighted beyond must, I
think, have been something further
north than latitude 83 degrees which
seems to have been the northernmost
point—Cape Vienna-seen by the gal
lant officers of the Tegetthoff. For in
1861 I traced the outline of the land,
which I named Cape Union, on the vest
side (imperfectly traced, it is true,
owing to the great difficulties of the
situation), to latitude 82 degrees 45
minutes, and Capt. Hall must have seen
land beyond this.
So I must think the American Grin
nell Land must have been sighted a little
further north than the Francis Joseph*
Land of Messrs. Payer & Weyprecht.
I take some pride in thinking this, as it
is not only an American discovery, but
my own, and has been traversed by no
other white man, except my one compan
ion in 1854, and my three companions
in 1861. I think I may still, therefore,
claim the discovery of the most north
ern known body of land on the globe,
for on the Greenland side Capt. Hall
did not extend the surveys of Dr. Kane
(which terminated about latitude eighty
degrees fifty so far north as he
sighted beyond my own surveys on the
opposite side. I have said this much
in order that I might show some grounds
for asserting my belief with you that
Smith’s sound is “ the most, or only,
available route to the pole.”
Ladies and Vinegar.
Taken in moderation there is no
doubt that vinegar is beneficial, but in
excess it impairs the digestive organs.
Experiments on artificial digestion show
that if the quantity of acid be dimin
ished, digestion is retarded; if incieased
beyond a certain point, digestion is ar
rested. There is reason, therefore, in
the vulgar notion—unhappily too often
relied on—that vinegar helps to keep
down any alarming adiposity, and that
ladies who dread the disappearance of
their graceful outlines in curves of
plumpness expanding into “fat” may
arrest so dreadful a result by liberal
potations of vinegar, but they can only
so arrest it at the far more dreadful ex
pense of their health. The amount of
acid which will keep them thi will de
stroy their digestive powers. Portal
gives a case which should be a warning:
“ A few years ago a young lady in easy
circustances enjoyed good health ; she
was very plump, had a good appetite
and a complexion blooming with roses
and lilies. She began to look upon her
plumpness with suspicion, for her
mother wa3 very fat, and she was afraid
of becoming like her. Accordingly she
consulted a woman who advised he to
drink a glass of vinegar daily. The
young lady followed the advice, and her
plumpness diminished. She was de
lighted with the success of the experi
ment, and continued it for more than a
month. She began to have a cough;
but it was dly at its commencement,
and was considered as a slight celd
which would go off. Meantime, from
dry it became moist, a slow fever came
on, and a difficulty of breathing; her
body became lean and wasted away,
night-sweats, swelling of the feet and
of the legs succeeded, and a diarrhea
terminated her life.” Therefore, young
ladies, be boldly fat ! Never pine for
graceful slimness and romamic pallor ;
but if nature means you to be ruddy
and rotund, accept it with a laughing
grace, which will captivate more hearts
than all the paleness ol a circulating
library.
The Taste of Blood.
That strange and almost brutal sen
timent which delights, for instance, in
watching an actor feign death by poi
son with horrible contort ons, reached
its extremity in England the other even
ing. At the Theater Royal, Cambridge,
the stage was ■ ccupied by a raving sort
of tragedy, in which a murderer is
brought to justice. The actor tak
ing this character refused to do more in
the death scene than appear on the scaf
fold, and make his last confession un
der the dangling rope. There the cur
tain dropped, but the peculiar British
audience would not be satisfied, It
roared, it hissed, it deolined to leave
the theater, and the manager solemnly
came out and apolog zed Tor being una
ble to gratify his patrons by actually
hanging the actor unless with his own
consent, wbich ho was hardly likely to
give. “Bring him out with the rope
round his neck,” shouted these pleasant
people, and their demand not being
granted they growlinglyjand reluctantly
left the house. A curious story is this
for the student of ethics. We doubt if
the theater-goers in a Nevada mining
town would ever attain equal sublimity
of brutality.— New York Tribune.
Naming the Baby.
A paying hoax was played a few days
since, says a Clarksville coirespondent
of the Louisville Courier-Jour cal, upon
the family relatives of one of our young
married men who had the good fortune
(or bad fortune, whichever way the
reader construes it) of having an addi
tion to his family in the shape of a boy
weighing nine pounds avoirdupois. A
friend of the parents directed a postal
card to each one of the uncles and aunts
of the little chap, bearing upon the
back there few lines :
“ G has anew baby at liis lieuse
named after you.”
In a few days letters of congratula
tion began to pour in. A gentleman
from our city, one of the uncles, sent
by express a beautiful silver enp, ac
companied by these words : “ I thank
you for an honor that my finances will
not permit mo to accept very often from
my numerous relatives;” another, writ
ing from Paducah, feels “ highly grat
ified that you should name your boy
after me, and if it bears in reality my
name, and is not named just forty-five
years after me, you can draw upon me
for his first boots and I will honor his
draft.” He “smells a mice.” An
aunt to the infant, writing from Hop
kinsville, Ky., says : “Yon know not
how gratified I am that you have named
your little girl after me. lam not well
now, but as soon as I am able to ven
ture out upon the streets I shall ac
knowledge the honor in a more becom
ing manner.” An uncle at Erin, Tenn.,
writes : “Kiss the baby for me. I do
not know how to thank you. As soon as
I can find time to dig several pounds of
ginseng I will send my little namesake
a present.” And thus they continued
to come from all sections, as the family
is quite numerous. The baby is yet
unnamed, and if it receives the name of
each one who has sent a present there is
a slim show for its future existence.
Chinese Typography.
Printing a book in China is done as
follows : Two pages are written by
one trained to the business, on a sheet
of thin paper, divided into columns by
black lines, and in the space between
the two pages are written the title of
the work and the number of the chap
ter and page ; when the sheet has
been printed it is folded down through
this space, so as to bring the title, etc.,
partly en each page. The sheet, when
ready for printing, is pasted face down
ward on a smooth block of wood, made
usually from tho pear or plnm tree.
As soon as it is dry the paper is rubbed
off with great care, leaving behind an
inverted impression of the cbarac ers.
Another workman now cuts away the
blank space, by means of a sharp graver,
and the block, with the characters in
high relief, passes to the printer, who
performs his work by hand. The two
points that he has to be most careful
about are, to ink the characters equally
with his brush and to avoid tearing the
paper when taking the impression.
From a good wooden block some fifteen
thousand copies may be printed, and
when the characters have been shar
pened up a little it is possible to obtain
eight or ten thousand more impressions.
Remarkable Well.
Some well borers near Odell, Illinois,
are profane enough to report that they
have tapped hell, and are getting the full
benefit of tho leak. Gas was discov
ered forty feet below the surface, and
at eighty feet a veiu of water was
struck which spouted two hundred feet
in the air, carrying up gravel as big as
hens’ eggs, and sending everybody fly
ing hundreds of feet away. This per
formance continued until the sand and
gravel were six inches deep within a
radius of one hundred feet of the hole.
When the jet of water ceased, the aper
ture was found rrnch widened, with
quicksand at the bottom, and a stream
of gas had taken the place of water.
A match was applied to it, and flames
leaped into the air, producing a sound
like thunder. The workmen think they
have struck the gate of the evil doom,
or brought foith a youug volcano, they
don’t know which. The gas they are
getting now causes a blue color in the
vegetation for miles around, and the
people are flocking from all quarters to
see the strange phenomenon.
Ancieut Weapons.
An exhibition of ancient and modern
weapons has been opened at Birming
ham. They date from the fourteenth
century. Among them is a breech load
ing air-gun, made by Nook, an English
man, somewhere about 1360, which has
seven barrels, all of which explode with
one blow of the hammer. There is
also a beautiful breech-loader, bearing
the name of Aquafresca Borgia, 1694.
There are many exquisite breech-load
ing pistols of ancient dates, with in
genious mechanism, and the first at
tempt at the revolving principle, in the
sbajie of a double barreled gun, the
barrels turning on a pivot. Many of
the guns have reservoirs in the stock for
ammunition. One curiosity is a single
barreled gun to hold two charges. One
charge was rammed home and several
wads inserted,’after which the second
charge was placed in the barrel. The
top charge was exploded by a hammer
about a third of the wav up the barrel,
and a hammer at the breech then dis
charges the second.
Use of Thermometers.
The differences in the ordinary mete
orological observations are not so much
owing to the thermometer, as a general
thing, as to the want of a proper care
in observation. To ascertain the true
temperature of the atmosphere the in
strument should never be huDg against
the walls of a building, as the heat ab
sorbed and radiated will cause a change
of several degrees, depending on the
nature of the material of the walls, and
the sides exposed to sun or wind, as al
so the radiation from the internal heat
of the building. The best place is un
der the shade of an open cover or tree,
away from any buildings, suspended a
few feet above the ground. The fact
that the air may be at rest or in motion,
will not affect the temperature. To as
certain the heat of the direct rays of
the sun, the instrument should be cov
ered with a coat of lamp-black and ex
posed to the direct rays of the sun in a
sheltered plaoe.
Don’t Scold.
For the sake of your children, don’t
do it. It is a great misforlune to have
children reared in the presence and un
der the influence of a sceld. The effect
of the everlasting complaining and
fault-finding of such persons is to make
the young who hear it unamiable, mali
cious, callous-hearted, and they often
learn to take pleasure in doing the very
things for which they receive such
tongue-lashings. As they are always
getting the blame of wrong-doing,
whether they deserve it or not, they
think they might as well do wrong as
right. They lose all ambition to strive
for the favorable opinion of the fault
finder, sinoe they see they always strive
in vain. Thus a scold is cot only a
nuisance, but a destroyer of the morals
of children. If these unloved, dreaded
people could only see themselves as
others see them tney would flee to the
mountains in very shame,
JOVIALTY.
The Jolly Fellow a Snbject fir PHy
Rather than Envy.
Despite a general opinion to the con
trary, the most miserable and misery
creating of men*upon earth is the jovial
man. We remember him at school ; his
expressive arch lips, his handsome ever
changing face, his bright swift eye al
ways seeking for the applause they
were so sure to win. A merry dog, a
sad dog from his mother's knee, he led
us upon all those jolly truant rambles
which afterward oost so dear ; Le pro
duced and fostered that oontenpt for
earnest plodding industry which has
oost too many of us dearer still. Cold
fidelity and patience and ambition
melted like snow under the hot sun
beams of his genial raillery. The yonth
was as the boy. His glorious, lealth
brimming presence, the readme ss and
versatility of his talents, made him the
pride and envy of his fellows in the col
lege or in the office, and the petted darl
ing of all girls fortunate enough to
know him. Conquering and to conquer,
like anew Apollo, he lashed forward
his horees of the sun; so generous, so
open-hearted, there was no one but
wished him God-speed, no one but gave
him the hearty cheer he looked b ick for
over the dust of his whirling whee s. Too
many leaped up beside him to en. oy his
triumph and be in with him at ti e goal
—and his goal is generally the goal of
Phaeton. For it is about now that the
first crash must come, not always, not
even often, an immediately fatal one—
sometimes, thank God, it is even his
nltimate worldly salvation, and, with a
right eye plucked out, or a right arm
cut off, he enters heaven. But this is a
thing so sadly rare as to b* not worth
talking of; the fatal gift of pleasing
and dazzling easily can not be parted
with, and its possessor haring lost the
respect of his fellows, picks himself up
from the dust, and begins his race again.
Woe now for all that are connected with
the dazzling fellow by ties of blood or
marriage; seven woes for her whose
bond is the latter ! He, he loves her
well —he hates none but him he can not
make laugh ; he loves her with a big
hearted love, as he all the world •
he only loves her a little less than he
loves his ease, and the laughter and ap
plau eof his admirers. And who does
not still admire—ay, love him—beauti
ful and kind and radiant as he is ? Who
does not help again and again and again
to drag him out of the sloughs into
which his fascinating carelessness of all
earthly things and duties beguiies him ?
Gods ! what a hard and bitter world it
is, that this bright creature, who is a joy
to us all, should also become slowly a
nuisance and a thing that we can not
away with, aud to himself and those
nearest to him a shame and a cause of
reproach. For the end approi.ches
slowly and surely, and the earnest piti
less laws of the universe grind into his
soul. The laugh becomes more and
more infrequent: lines of care, care- that
will not be mocked away, begin tc mar
that genial face. The indecision about
the mouth gives place to a fixed weari
ness and even bitterness. Harlequin
becomes Pantaloon. His occupation’s
gone. He begins to be pitied; and then
—then, the sooner he shuffles of! the
stage, the better, God help him ! for
himself and the world.— Overland
Monthly.
The Footprints of Time.
Wrinkles are the first tell-tales of a
lost youth, and the wrinkles make their
way in a very stealthy manner. At first
there comes the faint marking of one
little line about the corner of the eye,
and one at each side of the mouth. As
suredly it is the sign of approaching
age, we say complacently, looking at
ourselves in the glass, conscious of our
attractions in the perfection of ‘heir
maturity. That little line, indicative
of the furrowed future, is no more age
than the one scarlet leaf of the n aple
in the midst of the green wood is au
tumn. It is the shadow of the herald,
if you will; but it is not the real tiling.
And so on with all the rest. But it is
not so with our friends. The gap made
between the past and present by years
of absence is abrupt, unexpected. You
left a blooming, sleek-haired, slim
waisted girl; you find a faded, hollow
eyed, gray-headed woman, the mother
of children, afflicted with bad hjalth
and tired of her life. Or you encoun
ter a stout and florid matron whose
bulk is a burden to herself and a mat
ter not for admiration to her friends ;
whose early shyness has worn off and
given place to a free-and-easy good
nature that may be genial but is vul
gar ; whose girlish sentimentality has
gone with her blushes, and who now
openly proclaims her devotion to cham
pagne and lobster salad as among the
few things in life worth taking trouble
for, and talks of the pleasures oi the
palate as superior to every other enjoy
ment. To be sure, paring away iu your
mind’s eye those superfluous laye *s of
flesh, you can make out the nose of the
past, and the lips have the same c urve
as hers had in the days when you w ould
have giveD a month’s salary for a ass ;
the eyes are the same color, but what
bus become of their sparkle ? YSTiere
is that roguish twinkle that made your
heart leap when it flashed npon yon,
giving point to a girlish sauciness that
was so innocent and she thought was so
naughty? Where is that dtwy,
downcast look that was so con
scious whee there was nothing
to blush for ? Is it that ugly leer
which tells of less tenderness of senti
ment than you would like to see eve n in
a man ? You must accept this as the
“ survival; ”it is all you will have of
the sweetness, the bashfnlness that
once seemed to you the most exquisite
grace on earth.
“Johnson’s Jump.”
The Loudon correspondent of the
Buffalo Commercial Advertiser writes :
“ ‘Johnson’s jump 1’ Do you know wLy
these two words always call np a smile
this side of the herring-pond ? 3 lost
likely some good-natured friend of J.
B. Johns n has already made American
readers familiar with the most noted
performance of the English chami ion
swimmer, who was walking over lon
do' Bridge some two years ago (the
day before a swimming race for the
championship of England, for which he
had entered;, when he suddenly saw a
man fall overboard from a steamtoat
just passing down the river. He boldly
plunged into the Thames from the
bridge, swam to the man struggling in
the water, rescued him, and the Daily
Telegraph sang his praises in one of its
most flowery leaders, lauding ‘Johnson’s
jump ’to the skies. J. B. Johnson von
the swim for the championship of Eng
land with great ease the next day, and
becan-e the theme of no end of heroic
writing till it came out that the fall in
to the river and the rescue were pre
arranged affairs, when the bubble burst,
and ‘Johnson’s jump’ became a sh-ck
joke. It is this plucky joker who has
been amusing the holiday-makers at
Long Branch by his wondrous com
mand over the water, and who beat
Trau'.z the other day in a swim for Ihe
championship of the states.”
An undergraduate at Cambridge, who
found among the questions on his exam
ination paper this : “Why will no. a
pin stand on its point ?” elaborately ex
plained the point thus : “1. A pin will
not stand on its head ; much less is it
possible that it should stand on its
point. 2. A point, according to Euclid,
is that which has no parts and no mag
nitude, and therefore a pin cannot stand
on its point, 3. It will, if yon fit ok
it in.”
VOL. 15--NO. 44.
SAYINGS AND DOINGS.
An eastern paper thinks women ought
to be hotel clerks. Probably because
they part their hair in the middle.
Italy’s finances are in such a shape
that she can’t get out of debt for 200
years, even with good management.
There is a steam cremating estab
lishment in Virginia City. They put
up the ashes in yeast boxes, to aid the
resurrection.
Railroad employee in Nevada, from
the conductor to the fireman, carry fire
arms, for the purpose of putting gam
blers and other thieves off the trains.
The James Lick monument in honor
of Francis S. Key, author of the Star
Spangled Banner, will cost 8150,000. It
will be of bronze, and located in one of
San Francisco’s parks.
The grape crop of California was
never in a more promising condition,
both as regards quantity and quality,
than at present, the vintage being
placed at 10,000,000 gallons, against a
yield of 4,000,000 gallons in 1873 and
i '2,500,000 in 1872.
Staunton, Ya., has a man who eats
glass, not only without injury, but to
! the apparent benefit of his digestion.
He expresses a preference for wat< h
crystals, as they are more easily chewed,
but will eat window-glass or even thick
tumblers on a small wager. There is no
accounting for tastes.
Several years ago a hopeful young
minister left the shores for the Canni
bal islands as a missionary. On arriv
ing at the end of his journey the na
tives weighed him and cut a sliver off
his leg as a sample. He came home by
the next boat, and is now the traveling
agent of a circus.
The experiment of lighting railway
cars with gas has been brought to a
more successful solution in Prussia than
even in this more rapidly progressive
country. On one of the railways the
experiment has been so successful that
there is little doubt of the ultimate ex
clusion of all kinds of oil lamps on the
railways of Germany.
A Word for the Mother. —
Send the children to bed with a kiss and a
smile;
Sweet childhood will tarry at beat bnt a while
And soon they trill pass from the portals of
home,
The wilderness ways of their life-work to roam.
Yes, tuck them in bed with a gentle “ good
night!”
The mantle of shadows is veiling the light;
And maybe—God knows—on this sweet little
face,
May fall deeper shadows in life’s weary race.
Yes, say it: “ God bless my dear children. I
pray!”
It may be the last you will say it for aye!
The night may be long ere you see them again!
And motherless children may call you in vain;
Drop sweet benediction on each little head,
And fold them in prayer as thev nestle in bed;
A guard of bright angels around them invite.
The spirit may slip from the mooring to-night.
At the National Science Congress in
Breslau on September 22, a trial was
made of Dr. Reclain’s apparatus for the
cremation of the human body. The re
sult was that half an hour after the
corpse was placed in the furnace the
soft parts of the body were thoroughly
consumed, and in one hour the bones
were reduced to a fine white ash.
A correspondent describes anew
kind of table decoration that he wit
nessed in the honse of a Russian lady
in London. The table was entirely cov
ered with moss, and the only evidence
of a white tablecloth was seen in that
portion which hangs at the sides of the
table. Flowers were profusely intro
duced, and the effect, of course, was
unique.
Let not sleep fall npon yon eyes till
yon have thrice reviewed the transac
tions of the past day. Where have I
turned aside from rectitude ? What
have I beeu doing ? What have I left
undone which I ought to have done?
Be in thus from the first act, and pro
ceed ; and, in conclusion, at the ill
which you have done, be troubled, and
rejoice for the good.
Home is not a name, nor a form, nor
a rontine. It is a spirit, a presence, a
principle. Material and method will
not, and cannot make it. It must get
its light and sweetness from those who
inhabit it, from flowers and sunshine,
from the sympathetic natures which, in
their exercise of sympathy, can lay aside
the tyranny of the broom, and the awful
duty of endless serubbiag.
In a great city like London there are
always houses which, from some acci
dental cause, pass away from any re
sponsible ownership. Sometimes they
are occup : ed by tenants who, in the first
instance, pay no rents, and then gradu
ally assnme the rights of landlords. It
is said there is a company in London
organized solely to make a profit by
taking possession of such property and
either holding it or finding owners.
In view of the fact that Watt’s hymns
have been translated into the Choctaw
language, and have b come favorites of
the braves, an admirer of the noble red
men says it is very affecting to think of
a noble red man sitting upon a fenoe and
singing, “How doth the little busy
bee,” while he watches his wife carrying
home a couple of bushels of potatoes
upon each shoulder, and wondering if
he couldn’t swap that squaw for a jug
of robust rum.
The late Hon. Sam. Galloway, of Co
lumbus, Ohio, was a remarkably home
ly man. On one occasion, while dining
with a personal and political friend in
Chilliooth®, the six or seven year old
daughter of his host, who had been in
tently studying Galloway's face, said,
load enough to be beard by *ll at the
table : “ Ma, didn’t that man’s mamma
love children mighty well ?” “ Why so,
my dear?” asked her mother. “Oh,
just ’cause she raised him !”
Mbs. Thompson, of Mohawk, New
York, loves chivalrous men. She want
ed one for a son-in-law. She bad some
doubts about the young man who was
engaged to her daughter, so she dressed
in men’s clothes and picked a quarrel
with him. The prospective son-in-law
took ofl his coat, jammed the old lady’s
hat down over her eyes, tore her collar
off, broke her nose, and was about to
make carpet-rags of her pantaloons,
when he discovered that he was fighting
a woman. Mrs. Thompson thinks he
will do.
Recently two elderly Scotch maiden
ladies of a believing, faithful, and rather
superstitious turn, being from the Hee
lands, were startled out of their senses
owing to a revelation made to them by
an old gentleman traveling in the same
carriage, as to the history of an air
cushion wkich he carried on his lap
with the utmost anxiety lest any one
should touch it. “That air cushion,”
he said to his fellow-passengers, in a
voiee husky with emotion, “contains
the last bre th of my dead wife. She
expired in a fit immediately after blow
ing it out. I beg, ladies, that you will
not meddle with it."
We thought that everything it was
possible to Bay about “ hash” had been
said, but here is another contribution :
A certain hostess, whose table is noted
for its uniformity of dishes, has a brisk
daughter who electrifies her ma’s board
ers with the following parody sung to
an accompaniment on anew fifty-dollar
piano : “ While beefsteak and venison
costs lots of cash, be it ever so grisly,
there’s nothing like hash ; the set apings
and leavings ol no use elsewhere, when
mixed altogether make excellent fare.
Hash, hash, good meat hash ! Be it
ever so grisly, there’s nothing like hash!
A stranger from home, hotels dazzle in
vain ; O, give me cheap eating house
food that’s more plain ; the waiter who
gayly re-echoes my oall for a nice plate
'of hash or a single fishball. Hash*
1 hash,” etc.