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CLISBY & REID, Proprietors.
The Family Journal.—News—Politics—Literature—-Agriculture—Domestio Affairs.
GEORGIA TELEGRAPH BUILDING.
ESTABLISHED 1826.}
MACON, FRIDAY, DECEMBER 4, 1868.
YOL. ILIII.—NO. 3;
THE FACE IN THE CLASS.
BY- JULIA BACON.
[The following beautiful poem is from the
pen of one of Georgia’s most gifted daughters—i
resident of Talbotton.—Ed.]
The night without was bitter and chill,
And the wind blew cold and whistled shrill,
And the rain began to fall;
But within a cottage close and tight,
And cosy and clean and warm and bright,
Where the blazing pine-knot’s cheerful light
Threw shadows upon the walL;
A maiden fair as ever was seen,
With dark brown eyes and innocent mien, '
Sat waiting for twelve o’clock;
To try her fortune and see, she said,
The face of the man whom she would wed;
But, 0, she thought if his hair was red
’Twould be a terrible shock 1
For that was the hue of Jamie’s hair,
She never loved him, she could declare,
He only wished to deceive;
Hadn’t she seen him walking of late
Talking and laughing, flirting with Kate ?
And kissed her, perhaps, down at the gate,
That very all Hallow’s eve.
These vexing thoughts filled the maiden’s
mind;
The rain beat hard ’gainst the window blind,
The clock was ticking its best:
Then she arose and unbarred the door,
That fairy or elf might enter before
The charm’d hour passed; she longed more
and more
Its magic power to test.
Taking an apple mellow and sound,
Which she must eat in silence profound,
While standing before a glass:
For if she but smiled, or moved, or spoke,
A raven unseen would surely croak,
And the mystic spell would then be broke,
And nothing would come to pass.
Trembling in every nerve she stood,
Eating the tipple mellow and good,
But scarcely noticed she that,
When the last stroke of twelve was o’er,
And something tipping across the floor;
Was it a miry or- cat?
Her heart stood still, and her blood ran cold;
She closed her eyes, and dared not behold
Whatever Fate might reveal -
Footsteps creptnear; she heard a low sigh,
And soft, low breathings very close by
Thrilled her with horror; something was
nigh—
Was it for woe or for weal?
Her eyes unclosed, in the glass she gazed,
Startled was she and truly amazed,
But saw no spirit or elf;
The smiling face of a man was there,
A well-known face, unwrinkled by care—
The fire-light shone on his bright red hair,
She knew t?was Jamie himself 1
“Waiting and watching, wishing to see
Whose little wife you’re destined to be ?
Ah, Nannie, I am the man!”
She laughed and blush’d, she pouted and
frown’d,
But ere All Hallows again came ’round,
In Hymen’s bonds together were bound,
Gentle young Jamie and Nan.
Beethoven’s Bast Sours.
The Grazer Tagepost contains a letter
by the hands of the famous composer,
Anselm Huttenbrenner (communicated
by his son, Col. Peter Huttenbrenner,)
which the former had addressed to the
United States Consul, A. W. Thayer, in
Vienna, -on Beethoven’s last moments,
so differently related by so many differ
ent biographers. The following form the
principal portions of this most interesting
epistle; “When on the 26th of March,
1827, about three o’clock in the afternoon,
I entered Beethoven’s bedroom, I found
there Hofrath Brenning, his son, and
Mrs. van Beethoven, the wife of Johann
van Beethoven, landed proprietor and
apothecary of Linz, and besides, my
friend, the portrait painter, Joseph Telt-
scher. I believe that Prof. Schindler was
also present. These gentlemen, after a
while, left the composer in his death
struggle, and had little hopes of finding
him yet alive on their return. During
the last moments of Beethoven there was
no one in the room except Mrs. van
Beethoven and myself. After Beethoven
had Iain from three o’clock in the after
noon, when I came, breathing hard in his
agonies, yet without consciousness, till
about five, a'flash of lightning, accompa
nied by a violent clap of thunder, came
•down and lighted up the death chamber,
(there lay snow in front of Beethoven’s
house,) with a dazzling glare. After this
unexpected phenomenon, Beethoven
opened his eyes, lifted up his right hand,
and for several seconds looked upwards,
his fist clenched, and with a very serious,
threatening countenance, as if he meant
to say, ‘I defy you, you hostile powers!
Avaunt, God is with me I’ When his
raised hand fell back upon his bed, his
eyes half closed. My right hand lay
under his head, my left rested on his
chest. No more breath, no more motion
of the heart! It is not true that I had
asked Beethoven to take the dying sac
raments, hut I did, at the request of the
wife of the late musical publisher, Thom
as Haslinger, cause Beethoven to be
asked in the most delicate manner by
Jenger and the landed proprietress, Mrs.
van Beethoven, to fortify himself by tbe
taking of the Lord’s Supper. That
Beethoven said to me, (who was not even
present on March 24,1827, in the fore
noon, when he took the Viaticum,) the
words, ‘Plaudite, amici, comcedia finita
*st,’ is pure invention. Nor did Beetho-
Via > I am sure, make use of such an ex-
piession, so utterly contrary to his
straightforward character, to any one
else. On the other hand, neither did
Mrs. van Beethoven relate to me on the
dying day of her brother-in-law, that af
ter he had taken the Viaticum he had
said to the priest, ‘I thank your reverence,
you have brought me comfort.’ ”
The Irish Judge, Day, was a remarka
bly tall man, and an intimate friend of
j lr Arthur Clarke, who was almost a
dwarf. It was a standing joke with the
wags of Dublin to liken the colossal
J udge a nd his diminutive companion to
e twenty-first of June, inasmuch as
they jomriy constituted the longest Day
: i] and the shortest Knight
/i j- °? N ®Y LL > conversing with an In-
> 1 sT A if , he kne » sun never
A Si H ? UeeD 8 Unions. “No,”
jj| said the Indian. “Do you know the
' p 68 ^ 01 ? "-hy ?” asked JoL. “Because
m SSj 18 , a N aid trust &n Englishman m
■ the dark > was the savage’s reply.
L M
I
The Moose in Maine.
We find the following account of the
moose from that excellent agricultural
and farming journal, the Maine Parmer,
published at Augusta, which we are sure
will be read with interest; _
This noble animal is an inhabitant of
this State, but its native location is much
more extensive than is generally sup
posed. North of 49 degrees they are
round across the entire continent, being
very numerous in tbe northern Rocky
Mountains. Maine, New Brunswick,
and Lower Canada, are among its favor
ite places of abode. They are the largest
of the deer tribe. Few persons in Maine
realize what a noble animal ranges our
forests, some of which vie almost with the
horse in size. Like all the deer family
they are ruminating animals, and in sum
mer, when their hair is short, and glossy,
they appear very handsome ; though their
head has a heavy look, which is disfigured
by a clumsy upper lip, approaching in
appearance that of the horse. They are
exceedingly timid. We saw one partial
ly tamed several years since, and though
he had been kept for months in a stable
with a horse, yet when taken into the
street he seemed terribly frightened as he
saw a horse walking through the streets.
Hence the moose hunter finds it necessa
ry to approach them against the wind.
The breaking of a twig will arouse them.
In winter the hair 13 long and coarse,
within which is a fine, thick coat of wool.
An old moose has a long, bushy tuft un
der the jaws.
The most remarkable object of atten
tion in the moose is his huge antlers, which
seem to be a great inconvenience to the
progress of the animal among trees, but
he turns them back upon his shoulders,
and trots along with a stately gait and
great speed among the trees. They nev
er gallop nor leap, but practice a long
trot.
Hunters think much of moose meat.
The steak is usually coarse, though when
in good condition it is quite juicy. . The
nose and tongue are considered great
delicacies. The Indians who lived in the
vicinity of the whites considered it a
most desirable present to their white
neighbors, when they could bring in a
nose and tongue ofa moose.
The age of the moose is generally
reckoned by the number of points on his
horns, some of which have as many
as twenty-three, which indicate their age
in years. Their antlers weigh some
times as high as seventy pounds. They
shed these every year, usually commenc
ing in December. It is astonishing with
what rapidity these antlers will grow.
In the winter season they retire to the
more mountainous region, when they are
said to “yard.” An abundance of hard
wood trees furnisli them with food, and
they do not leave their yard unless dis
turbed, so long as food is abundant.
Moose hunting when the snow is deep
and covered with crust, is very exciting.
When started from their yard, the male
goes first, and the others follow in his
tracks so exactly that a stranger would
suppose there was only one moose. It is
said that they sometimes in their flight
ro through other yards, when they all
all in and travel in single file. Its speed
is so great that an Indian has pursued
one three hundred miles before overtaking
him. Generally, if hotly pursued and
not overtaken the first day, they lay
down after running a short distance, and
are so stiff the next day that they are
easily brought to bay by small dogs.
Various attempts have been made to
domesticate them. They have been har
nessed into a sleigh and driven with great
speed, but there are times when they are
perfectly unmanageable. Their timid
nature forbids their general use.
The destruction of moose and deer in
this State has heen most wanton within
a few years. A law is needed, for
bidding their slaughter for ten or fifteen
years," when they would again rapidly in-
A Fellow who came by the railroad,
being a stranger, strolled about for some
time on the outskirts of a town, in search
of a barber. He finally discovered one,
and requested the operator to take off a
shilling’s worth of hair. The barber
trimmed his locks very neatly, soaped
up the remainder very handsomely, and
then combed and brushed him up till his
head looked as if it belonged to some
other person than himself. “Are you
done?” asked the stranger, as the barber
removed the napkin from his neck. “Yes,
sir, there’s a glass; you can look for
yourself.” “Well,” said the stranger,
“if you think you have taken a shilling’s
worth off, I don’t know as I have got any
change, so you may just take the hair for
your trouble.” On hearing this, the bar
ber made a jump for the man, whereupon
the man made a jump for the door, which
not being bolted, he bolted himself.
Talking of Costume.—The following
conversation is said to have taken place
the other day: Judge—(who is a lover of
the high order of the drama)—met a well-
known theatrical manager, and thus ad
dressed him. Judge—“Well, my old
Thespian friend, I hope you’ll favor us
with the legitimate, the coming season.”
Manager—“It won’t pay, Judge. Sensa
tion and limbs are still the rage. I have
in preparation a Russian spectacle, with
the crushing snow device from Paris, and
real sables for the actors; but the ballet
troubles me; I want to outstrip all, pre
vious efforts, and still preserve the unity
of the piece.” Judge (sarcastically)
“All you have to do is to bring ’em out
in bearskins.”
Answering Precisely.—A witness in
court who had been cautioned to give a
precise answer to every question, and not
talk about what he might think the
question meant, was interrogated as fol
lows : “You drive a wagon ?” “No, sir,
I do not.” “Why, man, did you not tell
my learned friend so this moment ?”
“No, sir, I did not.” “Now, sir, I put it
to you on your oath, do you not drive a
wagon?” “No, sir.” “What is your oc
cupation, then r “I drive a horse, sir”
Fifty Tears Bence.
The London Spectator, in some specu
lations on the changes that may possibly
occur in the next half century in conse
quence of new discoveries, regards emi
gration as one of the things which is
awAUowBra ait
auvi.
A SUCKER—his first oyster—swal
lowing IT ALIVE—TERRIBLE SITUA
TION—THE RESCUE—DISAPPEARANCE.
quite as likely to be affected as any other.
Should a new impetus be given to this,
the consequence to Europe would be very
serious. The writer says:
“Suppose it true, as so many men of
mark in science believe, that the next
great step may be in sea-going steamers,
that international communication may
be accelerated, as internal communication
has been, that we
At a late hour the other night, the
door of an oyster-house in our city was
thrust open, and in stalked a hero from
the Sucker State. He is quite six feet in
height, spare somewhat, stooped, with a
hungry, anxious countenance, and bis
hands pushed clear down to the bottom
of his pantaloon pockets. His outer cov
ering was hard to define, but after sur
veying it minutely, we came to the con
clusion that .his suit had been made in
his boyhood, of a dingy yellow linsey
wolsey, and that, having .spouted up
may vet see New
York brought within two day’s journey
of Liverpool; the probability is that in ... - - . ...
ten years every social condition now ex- astonishing rapidity, he had been
isting in Europe would have ceased to
exist; that the millions who toil for oth
ers, and on whose toil modern society is
built, would chose to toil for themselves,
would precipitate themselves in a rush to
which all the movements of mankind
have been trifles upon the new world.
Suppose tbe population of Britain and
Germany reduced to 10,000,000 each—a
change less in magnitude than that which
has occurred in many countries—and
those 10,000,000 only retained by advan
tages as great as the new world could of
fer, what would all the changes of the
past half century be to that? This may
happen, even without any application of
Stephenson’s great idea, the one idea he
never worked out, that if engineers, in
stead, of increasing the power applicable
to driving ships, were to reduce the fric
tion which retards ships, the world would
speedily be one great parish. This writer,
who has seen many countries and lived
among many races, seriously believes
that of all the dangers to which Europe
and European society are exposed, none
is so formidable as the passion for emi
gration ; seriously doubts whether, if ed
ucation spreads in Europe, it will be pos
sible to retain its population cooped up in
their narrow and half-exhausted corner of
the world. We think, we English, that
we knowwhatemigration is, but we know
nothing about it; have no idea of the
changes it would involve if aided by the
whole force of the masses then in posses
sion of the supreme political power. Sup
pose those five-sixths of Englishmen who
now work for others, chose to go else
where and work for themselves. The
change between Waterloo and Sadowa
would be very slight compared with the
change between 1868 and 1818, and there
is not a sensible man in England who
will declare that alteration beyond the
reach of thought. Why should not emi
gration in England and Germany attain
the height it has reached in Ireland, and
the masses insist on aiding it through the
national fleets ? The Irish would, if they
had the power, and the British have this
year the power conferred on them. We
say nothing of a discovery which, if it is
ever made, will remould all human soci
ety, slowly pulverize all differences among
nations, fusing the world into one peo
ple, ana immediately destroy all existing
political arrangements—the discovery of
a means of maintaining and guiding a
raft ten feet or so in the air, for we can
not resist a totally unreasonable impres
sion that the discovery will not be made,
that progress will not, in our time, make
that astounding leap. Apart altogether
from that, there are physical forces now
at work strong enough to change the
whole face of the world, by shifting its
population.”
An Eccentric Nobleman.
The Duke of Portland is in his sixty-
ninth year. He is the eldest brother of
the late George Bentinck, and owner of
magnificent estates in England and Scot
land. After what the French delicately
term a “stormy youth,” he became, in his
lather’s life time a recluse. It was the
late Duke’s fancy that therj was going
to be a scarcity of oak—he did not foresee
the iron age—and he planted a tree
wherever he could, until his park at
Wellbeck Abbey, Nottinghamshire, was
almost a plantation when he died, in
1854. The present Duke took up his
residence at Wellbeck, denied himself to
almost every one, and proceeded to im
prove the estate, cut down the superflu
ous timber, and laid out the park on the
most improved principles of landscape
gardening; constructed one of the most
perfect series of kitchen gardens in the
kingdom, with hot, fruit and forcing
houses on a magnificent scale; built sta
bles and coach houses fit for a prince,
and much finer than any English prince
possesses. In fact, the Duke devoted and
devotes his time and a large part of his
income to putting his seat in the most
perfect order of receiving and entertain
ing in ducal style. But he does not keep
any company, gives no entertainments on
any occasion, and, in fact, lived and lives
the life of a monk of La Trappe. He
has for some time been endeavoring to
convert a stream through his park into
a lake six miles long. Hundreds of la-
borers are employed on this and other' inquired:
forced to piece it out with all colors, in
order to keep pace with his body. In
spite of his exertions, however, he had
fallen in arrears about a foot of the
necessary length, and, consequently, stuck
that far through his inexpressibles. His
crop of hair was surmounted by the
funniest little seal skin cap imaginable.
After taking a position, he indulged in a
long stare at the man opening bivalves,
and slowly ejaculated—“Isters ?”
“Yes, sir,” responded the attentive op
erator—“and fine ones they are too.”
“Well, I’vehearn of Isters afore,” says
he, “but this is the fust time I’ve seed
’em, and perhaps I’ll know what their
made of afore I git out of town.”
Having expressed this desperate inten
tion, he cautiously approached the plate
and scrutinized the uncased shell fish,
with a gravity and interest which should
have done honor to the most illustri
ous searcher into the hidden mysteries of
nature. At length he began to solilo
quise on the difficulty of getting them
out, and how queer they looked when
out.
“I never seed anythin’ hold on so—
takes an amazin site of screwin’, hoss, to
get ’em out, and ain’t they slick and slip-
’ry when they does come ? Smooth as an
eel. I’ve a good mind to give the feller
lodging, just to realize the effects, as Uncle
Jess used to say about speckalation.”
“Well, sir,” was the reply, “down
with two bite, and you can Have a dozen.”
“Two bits!” exclaimed the Sucker,
“now come, that’s sticking it on right
strong, hoss, for isters. A dozen on ’em
ain’t nothing to a chicken, and there’s
no gettin’ more’n a picayune apiece for
’em. I’ve only realized forty-five pica
yunes on my fust venture to St. Louis.
I’ll tell you what, I’ll gin you two chick
ens for a dozen, if you’ll conclude to
deal.”
A wag, who was standing by indulging
in a dozen, winked to the attendant to
shell out, and the offer was accepted.
“Now mind,” repeated the Sucker, “all
fair—two chickens for a dozen—two chick
ens for a dozen—you’re a witness, mister,”
turning at the same time to the wag,
“none of your tricks, for I’ve heard that
you city fellers are mity slip’ry coons.”
The bargain being fairly understood,
our Sucker squared himself for the onset,
deliberately put off his seal skin, tucked
up his sleeves, and, fork in hand, awaited
the appearance of No. 1. It came—he
saw—and quickly it was bolted! A mo
ment’s dreadful pause ensued. The wag
dropped his knife and fork with a look of
mingled amazement and horror—some
thing akin to Shakspeare’s Hamlet on
seeing his daddy’s ghost—while he burst
into the exclamation:
“Swallowed alive as I am a Christian!”
Our Sucker hero had opened his mouth
with pleasure a moment before, but now
it stood open. Fear—a horrid dread of
he didn’t know what—a consciousness
that all wasn’t right, and ignorant of the
extent of the wrong—the uncertainty of
the moment was terrible. Urged to des
peration, be faltered out—
“What on earth’s the row ?”
“Did you swallow it alive’?” inquired
the wag.
“I swallowed it jest as begin itto me!”
shouted the Sucker.
“You’re a dead man I” exclaimed his
anxious friend; “the creature is alive, and
will eat right through you,” added he, in,
a most hopeless tone.
“Get a pizen pump and pump it out!”
screamed the Sucker in a frensy, his
eyes fairly starting from their sockets.
“O, gracious! what ’ill I do?—it’s got
hold of my innards already, already, and
I’m dead as a chicken.! do something for
me, do—don’t let the infernal sea toad eat
me afore your eyes!”
“Why don’t you put some of this on it?”
inquired the wag, pointing to a bottle of
strong pepper-sauce.
The hint was enough—the Sucker upon
the instant seized the bottle, and, desper
ately pulling out the cork, swallowed
half the contents ata draught. Hefairly
squealed from its effects, and gasped and
blowed, and pitched, and twisted as if it
were coursing through, him. with electric
effect, while at the same time his eyes ran
a stream of tears. At length, becoming,
a little composed, his waggish adviser, al
most bursting with suppressed laughter,
work on the estate in hand, at good wa
ges, but on one condition—no man is to
speak to him or salute him. The man
who touches his hat is at once discharged.
The village doctor and the parson have
the same orders. The tenants are in
formed of the Duke’s wishes; if they
meet him they are to pass him as they
would a tree. Yet he is constantly about
bis domain, planning and superintending
improvements. He is a capital land
lord, both in England and Scotland—
drains, builds, andputs bis terms in first
rate condition.. He never shoots, and
never allows his English farmers to have
the game, even on payment. To every
useful county work and every charity
he is ready to subscribe. Roads, church
es, schools, all are in first rate order on
the Portland estates. He breeds horses,
and spares no expense in sires and mares;
but if the produoe does not come up to
bis ideal, he Bhoots them—never sells an
inferior horse. Sometimes a cart load of j
“How are you now, old fellow—did
you kill it?”
“Well, I did, hoss’; ugh, ugh, o-o-o—my
innards. If that ister critter’s dying ag
onies didn’t stir a ’ruption in me equal to
a small earthquake, then ’taint no use
sain’ it—it squirmed like a serpent when
that killin’ stuff touched it; huand
here, with a countenance made up of sup
pressed agony and present’determination,
he paused to give force to his words, and
slowly and deliberately remarked, “if you
get two chickens from me for that live an
imal I’m d—d! and seizing his seal skin
cap, he vanished.
The shout of laughter, and the contor
tions of this company at this finale would
have made a spectator helievc that they
had all been “swallowing oysters alive.”
Dentists are favored with more open
countenances than any other class.
w _ The paper having the largest areola-
well-bred colts and fillies are sent to feed ^ on * ke P®?®*" tobacco,
the Ruflord hounds. 1 London has 350,000 houses.
OTITBE BSFXOZfAOE.
THE french spy system,
The political police of Paris consists of
five hundred ana forty agents, from all
countries, and of both sexes. Many of
them are Corsicans, the inhabitants of
the little isle developing remarkable tal
ent'for intriguing in politics. The cor
dial hatred which every Parisian cher
ishes for the profession, makes it rather
necessary that foreigners should be en
couraged to enter into it. Their chief is
the Count de la Grange, who himself is
subject to the orders of the Prefect Pie-
tri, mentioned in a former article; He
is a witty, gracious, and treacherous man
of the world; of course of immense value
to the maintenance of any empire. Mem
bers of the corps are disseminated as
thoroughly over the globe’s face as the
Jesuites used to be, and are as minute
and faithful in their reports. They send
in at regular intervals accounts of the
opinions and doings of political refugees,
and of diplomats, north, south, east and
west.
In Paris no quarter is without at least
a dozen at all hours of the day or night,
and under-the guise of friendship they of
ten endeavor to gain one’s confidence,
only to deceive and have him arrested, if
necessary to their own aggrandizement,
or the Government’s fancied security.
Four o’clock in the morning is the popu
lar hour with these gentlemen for their
calls They open your bed-curtains, com
mand you to put on your clothes and go
with them, and you may have been lock
ed up for a month before you know that
you were arrested for some trivial remark
in a store or hotel. The pay of the sub
alterns is one handred dollars monthly in
gold, either in France or abroad. When
the Emperor has decided upon leaving
for any point outside of Paris or his em
pire, a number of these agents are sent
ahead to manufacture opinion, and to
prepare the way of demonstrations of en
thusiasm. In such cases all their extra
expenses are paid by the Government.
So it is no wonder that all the items of
one of Napoleon’s journeys foot up a
round some.
About fifty of these mouchards are sta
tioned at New York and Washington,
and some of them have access to the
best houses in the metropolis and the
capital. The Corsicans are soi disant
Italian music teachers, or linguistic pro
fessors. And these intrude for their
thievish purposes almost everywhere they
wish. They usually have a wife in al
most every city they have inhabited, and
are as irredeemably vicious as men can
be. Now and then one has entered the
business after a long course of crime in
bis own country. France is the Europe
an refuge for all such rubbish, and turns
it to the best account.
When the Paris exhibition opened in
1867j about a dozen of these mouchadrs
were recalled from New York to watch
the Americans in the French capital,
and to sometimes kindly warn them if
they expressed too loudly their opinions.
Napoleon did not fancy arresting ma
ny American sovereigns. But the poor
Prussians were often locked up without
hardlv the slightest provocation. To
praise Bismarck even, or malign the
.French reputation for military bearing,
was to introduce one’s self to a Gallic
mouchard. One Prussian who could not
speak a word of French, was locked up
for several days, simply because he jostled
a French army officer, who "would not
move out of his way. He could get no
interpreters near him to make an expla
nation, and his case seemed hopeless, until
he was at last brought before court, and
dismissed because be was so stupid as not
to speak French.
During one of tbe visits of tbe Emper
or to the exhibition, an agent of a foreign
firm had occasion to.exmbit to Napoleon,
through the Chief of Police, de surete,
M. Elroy, a Remington shot cane. A
few days later the few samples remain
ing on the show-case were bought by M-
Pietri, and one of his special agents asked
the foreigner to order one hundred and
sixty-five of them, with which to arm
the Emperor’s civilian corps. As those
arms, as well as-small pocket pistols, are
forbidden to enter France, the foreign
agent inquired if the special had an or
der to allow the arms te enter Paris. He
exhibited a police card, and said they
should enter free of duty. But when they
came to the custom-house, they were
seized there, confiscated, and the unlucky
foreigner was fined, and paid a large sum
for breaking the custom laws, besides
losing the cost of the canes—five hundred
dollars. The confiscation was doubtless
a clever dodge of M. Pietri to get the
canes without paying for them.
The political spies who are stationed in
Paris go every morning at 10 o’clock to
the Bureau of the Prefecture of Po
lice, Place Jerusalem, to make their re
port of all they have seen and heard dur
ing. the preceding day.—Detectivesf Man
ual.
A Little Fellow in New York, who
had just commenced reading the pa
pers, asked his father if the word “Hon.,”
prefixed to the name of Fernando Wood,
the member of Congress, meant honest”
The parent shook his head,
It is a singular fact that ladies who
know how to preserve every thing else,
can’t preserve their tempers. Yet u may
easily be done on the self-sealing prineir
pie. It is only “to keep the mouth of
the vessel tightly closed. ’
A wealthy bishop congratulated a
poor priest on the good air which he
breathed in his parish, to which the lat
ter replied: “Yes, my lord, the air would
he good enough if I could only live on
it*’’
A sporting man remarked of a belle
in the habit of wearing low-necked dress
es, who carried off a matrim onialprize in
the shape of a rich did widower, that “she
won the race by a neck!”
To a bonnet—“Though lost to sight, to
memory dear.”
Whatever else you may chose to sip,
let alone gos-sip.
MEXICAN EXrSL
The whole life of a Mexican bears the
impress of “dolce far niente.” He never
hastens busily through the streets;' his
time is never taken up. They rise early ;
the ladies go in their thick veils to
church, the gentlemen begin their morn
ing ride. After the walk upon the Al-
zneda, every one goes home; they gener
ally take a bath, and there are good and
cleanly well-arranged public baths in all
the streets of the city, as well as bathing
rooms in all the private dwellings. Time
is dawdled away over the completion of
thetoilet; if there are children in- the
house their games are superintended, but
they are gentle and quiet as their pa
rents.
Tortillas” and “frijoles” taks a prom
inent .place at the tables of rich and
poor. The first are pastry, made of
ground maize, in the shape of a thin-disk,,
as large as a plate, white and -tasteless.
Among the lower orders this takes the
place of bread; they use it, too, slightly
rolled up, instead of spoons. . “Frijoles”
are little black beans, which thrive par
ticularly well in the neighborhood of-Ve-
ra Gruz; when they have been cooked
for some time, they take the color of choc
olate, and make a very good and tasty
food. A ragout of turkey (guejolote,)
prepared with chiles, a kind of pepper
and tomatoes, or apples of paradise, is a
favorite dish. Mixed with maize flower,
wrapped up in maize leaves, and steamed,
it makes the best national dish— the tama
les.
On the whole, the cookery of Mexico
is not very enticing to European, palates
and stomachs. Lard is used in great
^quantities in all the dishes, even in the
sweet ones. A good soup is almost an
unknown thing. Coffee, which grows
here of the best kind, is so badly prepared,
that it is almost impossible to drink: it.
Chocolate, highly spiced with cinamon,
is, on the contrary, very good, and much
drank. The afternoon hoars are spent
in receiving and returning visits. I nev
er saw a book in the hand of a lady, ex
cept the prayer-book, nor any work.
They write letters, for the most part,
with an Unpracticed hand. Their, igno
rance is complete; they have not.the
smallest idea of geography and history.
Europe to them, consists of Spain, from
whence they sprang; Rome, where the
Pope rules; and Paris, from whence come
their clothes. They have no conception
of other countries, or other nations, and
they could not comprehend that French
was not our native tongue. They have
themselves but very faint notions of this
language, hut have made a little progress
in it since the invasion of the French.
In many houses there is no-regular mid
day meal; a little chocolate, or some oth
er dish, is prepared; they lead a very
moderate life. Wine or- beer is rarely
drank, but there is no want of pulque at
tbe tables of tbe rich.
When guests are invited, there is no
end to the number of dishes.- In families
where regular meal times are observed,
plates are always laid for more than the
members of the house, as some relation or
friend is sure to drop in, who partakes of
the meal uninvited, and is received at it
with the greatest good will.
After the hour at the Paseo, they- drive
to the theatre; if there happens to be an
opera. They usually remain there en
famille, and, joined by a few confidential
friends, they play cards, enjoy music, .or
chatter. The ladies take great delight
in music, and have great talent for it.
They often play very well on the piano,
and have harmonious voices. When the
young people assemble together they
dance, and these informal enjoyments are
called “tortulias.”
A Good Story for Lawyers.
It is probable that every lawyer-of any note
has heard of the celebrated - Luther .Martin, of
Maryland. His great effort in the case of Aaron
Burr, as well as his displays iu tie Senate of'
the United States, will never be. forgotten.
Trifles in the history of genius are important, as
we hope to show in the story.
Mr. Martin was on his way to Afmapolis, to
attend the Supreme Court of the .State. . A soli
tary passenger was in the stage with him, and,
as the weather was extremely cold; the passen
gers soon resorted to conversation .to divert
themselves from too much sensibility .to the in
clement weather. The young man knew Mar
tin by sight, and as he was also- a lawyer, the-
thread of talk soon began toepineitself out of le
gal matters.
“Mr. Martin,” said the. young man, “lam just:
entering on my career asa lawyer; can you tell
me the secret of your great success? Ifj sir, yottx
will give me from your experisasce the key to
distinction at the has, J will—**
“Will what f’ exclaimed Martin. .
“Why, sir, I will pay your, .expenses while
you are in Annapolis.
“Done. Stand to your bargain, now, and L
will furnish you with the secret of my*
success as a lawyer.”
The young man assented.
“Very well,” said Mr. Martin. “The whole-
secret of my success is continued tin ions little
maxim, which I laid down early to guide m*-
If you follow it you cannot fail to- succeed. It
is this, ‘Always be sure of your evidence.' ”
The listener was very attentive—smilcst—
threw himself back in a philosophical posture,
and gave his brain to the analysis with true
lawyer’s patience of “Always m sure of your
evidence.”
It. was too cold a night fc».. anything t*. be
made pecuniarily out of th&sikf man’s wisdom,
and so the promising adept in maxim learning
gave himself to stage dreams,ia which he. was
knocking and pushing his. way.through, the
world by the all powerfuli'.weraa, “Always be
sure of your evidence.”"
The morning came, andMavtin, with Us-stu
dent, took rooms at the hotel ia the city*. The
only thing peculiar to the- hotel -in the-eyes of
the young man was that wine bottles, and. the et
ceteras of the fine living seemed to recall vivid
ly the maxim about the evidence.
The young man watched.Mr. Martin... When
ever eating and drinking.was concerned, he Taa
indeed a man to be watehed, especially in the
latter,: as he was immensely fond of the after din
ner and after supper, after everythia&luxury of
wine. . A few days wen sufficient to.show the
incipient legalist that. he. would have to pay
dearly for his knowledge, as Mr. Mbrtin. seemed
resolved to -make the most of his part .of the con
tract.
Lawyers,-whether young, or. old, .havn legal
rights, and so the young man began to- think of
the study of self-protection. It was. certainly a
solemn duty. Common- to. aninrwln and men, it
was a-noble instinct not to.be-. ditobayed, partic
ularly where the hotel .bills of. a. lawyer were
concerned. The subject grew.- d&iljy on the
young man. It wasall-absorbihg to. the mind
and pocket. A week elapsed; Mr* Martin was
ready to return to Baltimore.. So woaUhe young
man, but not in the.sama stage with.kis illustri
ous teacher. Mr. Martin approached the coun
ter in the bar-room. The young* was an
anxious spectator near him.
“Mr. Clerk,” said Mr.. Martin^ “my young
friend, Mr. —, will settle my hill,, agreeable to
the engagement.”
The young man-said nothing, hut he looked
everythin*.
“He will attend to it Mr.. Clerk, as we have
already a definite understanding on the subject.
He is pledged, .professionaffiy pledged, to pay
the bill,” he hurriedly repeated.
“Where is jnur. evidence*?” asked the young
man.
“Evidence?? sneered Mr. Martin.
“Yes, sir,”- said the- young man demurely.
“Always he sure ofi your evidence, Mr. Martin.
Canyou prove the bargain?”
Mr. Martin saw the snore, and pulled out his
pocket-book, paid the hill, and with great good
humor assured the young naan—
“Yon.will.do, sir,.and get through the world
with your.profession, without any advice from
me.”
The Unpunctual..Guest.—He is asked, for
seren; at half-past seven or a quarter to eight,
in he comes, with a happy smile on his face,. as
if he had struck the. very point of time, and
knew hothing of such vulgar annoyances
chilled soup or sodden entrees. If he can say.
that he missed the train, he is quite at ease with
himself and all mankind; if he" can further say
that a man came in and kept him, that is reason
enough and to spare for being too late for Heav
en. It never seemed to occur to him. that it
was part of his duty, not to he too late for the
train—and that -if any man whatsoever came in,
his first obligation was to send him out again,
when the fitting moment for departure arrived.
He can give no valid reason why he should have
been late. His chief duty was to keep his din
ner engagement punctually, and all the rest is
merely excuse, of no real value to any one. I
have known .a man of this kind, asked for seven,
come in jauntily at nine. He had a patient,
timid hostess, who had counted on him as a
tower of strength, being a man with, a presence,
and a jovial manner, and an abundant atmos
phere, and a generous vitality, and who, there
fore, was of considerable value to the young din
ner giver-. She waited for her tower just one
hour and five minutes by the clock. When an
other half-hour had passed, he entered with, the
air of a prince coming to.his throne, and. coolly
accepted the offer of such meats and dishes as
had mng ago been relegated to the region of ac
complished facts. He said he bad been kept;
further, that he had missed the train ;, and ne
had not the shadow, of remorse so soon as he
had made his excuse. The distress of the young
hostess, her anxiety lest her dinner would be
spoilt and her guests set out of tune, the fiercer
annoyance of the host, careful of his bride, and
specially desirous that her trial dinner should
succeed, the discomfiture of the people whose
places he had already deranged, and now again
shifted—all this was of no more consequence to
that unpunctual guest than so many drops of
rain foiling gently on the back of a sailing
swan. I am bound to eonfeas that my friend is
notorious for this kind of thing. He is the best
fellow in the world, frank, warm and generous,
a faithful friend, and kind and noble hearted in
all his relations, hut he is unpunctual. You
must five him a margin of perhaps some hours
in all your appointments with him, and then
think yourself lucky if yon get him at the end.
He it a practice to begin to dress at the
hour of invitation, and he fives half a dosea
miles from everywhere.—AM As Year Bound.
To loose your watch interferes with
your pleasure, at least it prevents you.
from having a good time.
The object some wives have in blowing
up their husbands is doubtless to have
them come down.
The proof of the adage that time is
money is found in the lack that times
change.
Queen Victoria is unpretending
enough now, but no one can deny that
she has given hereof b.eyja,
be
What Bind off Land should
Ploughed to Autumn ?
We clip the following; from, the New York
Semi-Weekly Times;, f
There is nothing f^s ined, but a great loss
sustained, in many instances, by ploughing
land in autumn. For this reason, a farmer
should knov^.witboot experimenting, wheth
er it will be better V > speed the plough in the
fall than to defer it till spring. The follow
ing suggestions may be of some service to be
ginners, in aiding ‘.hem to determine when to
plough and whoa not to plough in autumn:
Light, sandy lor .ms which rest on a porous
subsoil shook! nr ver be ploughed in either
early or late, autu mn when grain is not to be
put in. There is nothing gained by plough
ing light lnnd of any kind in autumn. As a
general 1 role, ploughing such land in autumn
or winter doe s not exert any ameliorating
effect upon the productiveness of the land.
When there is so much sand ip the soil
that it may be ploughed, even when tbdtt
is an excess of water in it,; without any
fear that tho surface will bake and become
cloddy, the land should neVoefxr ploughed
in. autumn. On the contrary, when thd ecu
has only a limited proportion of elay and
lime in it, by ploughing in autumn the pro
ductiveness may be largely increased. In
many instances, if land' be ploughed up
neatly and deep in late autunm^tbe ameliora
ting influenceof the alternate Jeosta and rains
of winter will be so marked?, that tbe land
which was ploughed in late autumn will fre
quently produce quite aa la$ge a crop, with
out the application of any,fertilizer, as the
same ground would yield if a dressing of
manure were applied whflu the ground is
ploughed in the spj
be greatly impro
Vs the frost wilt bi
furrow slices and 1
land on the slopes
ploughed at any
freezes ojfopril) not seqi
ing next Axgpg, p»vi<
performed an a neat and
ner. If the land, is in
should be taken to cu t
deeper than the plough ha
hand will
laughing,
of the
heavy
fivers, u
ground
loogh-
liJm-tnan-
ruu,
il that
so as to turn op,a little of, ,,
has never been .brought to the anrfaoe. Speed
the plough.
A Gentleman, riding, came to tbe
edge of Ateoraea which he considered not
sate. Seeing, a peasant lad, he asked
whether the cog wap hard at the bottom.
“O, you, quite mard,” replied the youth.
The gentleman vodeoa, out the horse be
gan, to sink. “You rascal,” shouted he,
d»d; you not say it was hard at the bot
tom?’’ “So it is,” rejoined the rogue,
“but you’re not half way to it yet,”
An old lady, hearing of a pedestrian's
“great feat,” wondered why they didn’t
interfere with his fast walking.
It doesn’t follow that a man dislikes
his bed because he turns his back upon
ih
A Clock having struck the hour of
one, a tenderhearted woman exclaimed:
“O, what a cruel < - kF “Why so?”
asked a friend “BeoatMe ii sfcruek Ha
little oner
mother.
•*-
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/V
