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W. F. SMITH, Publisher. VOLUME VIII. YEARS AGO. 8b was Boated cpae boaldo me. On a May day, 'T™ wu'iSSaAjr ioc 1 * . jaaASliyli&A This lock of hair, it I did steal I was bnt a boy, you know. Was Bbe pretty ? Did I lc#e her? Heart of mine, ’twaa year* ago; And that pang of bliss is over, I was but a boy, you know. “ Was she rich?”—now that la funny, Heart of mine, ’twas long ago; What cared I for lands or jnoney ? 1 was but a boy, you know. " And you parted—how you missed her”— Heart of mine, ’twaa years ago: “And yon preened her hand and kissed her,” I was but a boy, you know. Do I love her yet7—o olden, Precious past, thou heart of mine; Hee, this lock of hair is golden. And the head that wore it—thine. THE LOVE LETTER. “Well, whoever heard the like,” cried Fanny Harper, as she entered the parlor and threw herself on the sofa. “ Guess, mamma, if you can, what has just hap pened. ” “I’m sure I don’t know. Perhaps Sam and Tom have been quarreling. Hear mo, what torments those children are!” “No; they aroboth at school. Guess again, mamma.” “Well, then, I dare say that odious Mrs. Sharp has been hinting that I wear false hair. False hair, indeed! then, why—” “ No such thing,” interrupted Fanny; “ten times worse!” “Ten times worse!” cried Mrs. Harper, turning pale. “Oh Fanny, tell me.” “Well,” said Fanny, sobbing, “Julia Somers is engaged.” “ Engaged? Well I wonder what peo ple will come to next!” “Yes, really engaged. If there was a girl in whom I thought I could place perfect confidence, it was Julia Somers. Only a month ago she joined our auti matrimonial society. Oil, mamma, how can girls be so foolish! Poor Julia!” “ Why, what can you moan, Fanny?” asked a lady who happened to be present. “Is it possible that Julia is about to marry a man unworthy of her?" Who is the dreadful creature to whom she is engaged?” “ His name is George something— Thornton, I believe.” “Is ho internporato?’’ “ Mercy, no! How could yon think of such a thing? ITis morals are good enough.” “Perhaps he is an ignoramus, then, or—” “No, no, no; he is a vory line young man, as rich as Croesus, very sensible, and so handsome! Half the girls in town are doing for him.” 44 1 ndeed! Then why is Julia so much to l>e pitied?” “Why, because she is to bo married,” said Fanny, impatiently (she had turned an old maid’s corner). “I confess I cannot see fcho groat hard ship, after all, suggested Mrs. Harper. “But there’s the dinner bell.” Fanny declared, however, that she had no appetite for dinner, so to her own room she went to write a long letter to •Lilia, in which she pointed out the trials of married life, and warned her agaiust the fatal step. What did Mrs. Somers do with this letter? She read it to George, and George twisted it iuto twenty lamp-lighters, and the twonty lamp lighters were in requisition on a certain evening of tho next week, when Julia ceased to be Julia Somers. Mouths passed away and Fanny, at Julia's earnest desire, came to spend a few days with the youthful bride. The bright color and tho playful smile still dwelt upon her cheek and lip as of yore, and Fanny might have forgotten that this was not the Julia Somers of her early love had not the apparition of a man’s hat and coat in the hall recalled her to her senses. “Well,” thought Fanny, “I'm deter mined to have as little to do with her husband as possible.' Not a word will I speak except when he asks a question, for lam determined to hate him with all my heart.” To hate George Thornton—the man who adored her Julia, who was so hand some, so sensible, so brimful of love and kindness for every living tiling! Bash resolve! In the space of one hour Fanny had o}>ened out her heart to the influence of his thousand-and-one good qualities, and he understood her. The week passed pleasantly, and Fanny went home and wrote verses. It was very odd. she thought, and my reader, you must think as she did that certain persons of the masculine gender *ere constantly interfering with her private reflections. If she walked she feared meeting some among the num ber; if 6he remained at home she was sure they would be there to torment her; u she read, the hero of the novelist or historian would take the shape of the Ah'. Thompsons, the Mr. Smiths and me Mr. Jones of her acquaintance; if s ue visited, what if Mr. So-and-so •nould be there? Poor Fannv! The years of the life of Fanuy Harper many. Her younger brothers and sisters wondered that she had never had an offer, and Fanny herself wondered, R nd rejoiced—at least she said so. One morning Mrs. Harper and her five daughters were seated together in the b, ar^“r > when a violer* ring was heard at lit1 it was not me for papa’s ro rn * that was not papa's ring, they en * all sure. Great, therefore, was their irprise when Mr. Harper, puffing and L oh m ?' ru |led into the room, bearing rji Bh6 * daie “ erwith, ‘ reßt HiMk tfjwtp “A letter from a gentleman, as I know by the flourish he has made on that great M,” cried Kate, standing on tip-toe and trving to read the address written on the letter. “A love letter, did you say?” cried Matilda. “Oh. its for me then,” said Fanny, decidedly. “For me, you mean,” cried Lucy, who boro the only pretty face of the family. “Isn’t it for me?” asked Ann, as she re membered that Mr. Gustavus Thorp had walked home with her the last time she was caught in a shower. The matter was speedily settled, how ever, by Kate, who had contrived to gain possession of the letter, and was reading “Miss Francis Harper” in no gentle voice. “Give it to me directly, and don’t tease me so, Kate,” cried Fanny. 4 4 Wait a minute till I’ve found out who it’s from,” said Kate, peeping under the seal. “Let me see—Thom—Thomas 1 There, do take it.” My dear reader did you ever write, re ceive or read a love letter? “Not I, thank fortune,” growls tha cross old bachelor. “Nor I,” sighs poor Aunt Nabby. “That’s a secret,” whispers pretty El len. Well, then to you who know nothing oi such matters, an explanation or even a sight of Fanny’s letter would bo unin telligible; and as for you who have al ready dozens of your own, you can, of course, feel little curiosity respecting this one. Besides, what right have Ito read you Fanny’s secret? Fanny came down to dinner with an air of dignity quite unusual to her. “Do tell us who the letter was from?” asked Lucy. “Shall you say yes?” called Sam, from the end of the table. “Of course she will, and wo will be uncles and aunts,” roared Tom. “Thomas, leave the table, directly,” cried Mrs. Harper. “les, mamma,” said Tom, encouraged by the blushes and titters of the four sisters; “but is it for* saying that Fanny would say yes, or that wo should bo uncles and aunts?” “Go away, you naughty boy!” and Tom w r as gone. When dinner was over, Fanny took her mother aside and begged her to read the letter. “Well,” Aaid Mrs. Harper, after a si lence of thirty-five minutes, “a very pretty letter, I must say—but who is this Thomas Somerby?” “Why, mamma,” replied Fanny, “I don’t exactly remember ever seeing him, but—” “Ah, well, that’s of no consequence. You shall answer this letter directly— just the situation for you. Let me see lives in the country during the summer months. La, we can take the children and spend at least four out of the year with you every season.” “Dear mamma, you forget that I am at the head bf the Anti-Matrimonial So ciety.” 4 ‘But that’s of no consequence. Only think of your friend Julia—such a nice house—such elegant furniture— such a sweet baby as she lias!” “Yes, Julia seems very happy; and, do you know, mamma, she has really urged me of late to be more charitable in my opinions of gentlemen. After all, I have possibly been to severe.” Fanny retired to her own room to meditate upon Mr. Somerby. A tap at her door aroused her from the reverie iuto which she had fallen, and Kate, with an air of great importance, made her appearance. “And so, Fanny, you are reall ingoing to take this Mr. What’6-his-name? You needn't blush, for mamma has told us all about it, and we have planned out about the dresses anti everything; and after you are married you know I shall have your room, for papa says I may. And there’s another thing which I must tell you. Oh, Fanny, I hope I shall have a love letter some of these days.” Fanny hardly knew whether to laugh or cry, but in spite of the grave face which she found it expedient to put on, several little smiles twinkled in her eyes, smiles that said: “Kate, you are a dar ling, but I musn’t let you know I think SO, “Well,” continued Kate, “have you written the answer? Let me see it, do. Come now, I shan’t tell the girls what pretty things you say to him. ” “Katy,” said Fanny, solemnly “you must not talk any more about the matter. I confess that it is very hard to disap point you all and to distress him, but it must bo done.” Now’, if there was anything that Kate particularly disliked it was to see tears shed by anybody for any reason; there fore, as she began to suspect that Fanny meditated some such act, she lost no time in retreating. When Fanuy came to tea she was as sailed by a host of questions, congratu lations, and kisses from papa, mamma, her four sisters and three brothers. “How d’ye do, Mrs. Somerby?” asked one. “Now for the wedding cake,” shouted Tom. “You’ll let me be bridesmaid, won’t you?” urged Ann. “And if Mr. S. giveeyou a gold watch won’t you give me your old one?” asked Matilda. After tea no one seemed inclined to set about any regular employment. Papa held his newspaper before his eyes as usual, but it was at last discovered by Kate that it had been upside down for an hour. Mamma’s knitting work lay quietly in her lap, while her thoughts wandered off to a certain fine house in the country, where several children ran Devoted to Industrial Interest, the Diffiuioß of Truth, the Establishment of Justife* and the Preservation of a People’s Government. INDIAN SPRINGS, GEORGIA. about, bearing a decided resemblance to her daughter Fanny. Matilda, Ann and Lucy withdrawn into a snug comer, debated the questions whether he were handsome or otherwise; if he had dark hair or light, if he had not several broth ers, etc. Dreams, such as had never visited them before, came this night to the members of the Harper family. A tall, melancholy man, with black whiskers and black coat, disturbed the slumbers of the gentle Fanny; mamma talked in her sleep of “fine establishment—just the thing for Fan; don’t you think so, pa?” And Mr. H. answered -without waking: “Yes, my dear, he’ll put his name on my notes, I dare say.” Pretty little young men, brothers of Mr. Som erby, flitted around the apartments of Lucy and of Ann, while visions of plum cake danced temptingly before the eye of Tom and Sam. Poor Fanny was in sad perplexity. Her mamma had expressed it as her opinion that the match was a desirable one, she had even hinted that her daughter might never have “another chance,” and that for her part she could depart in peace should she see her fam ily comfortably settled for life. And Fanny’s filial affection conquered all her scrapples, and she resolved to see, to accept Mr. Somerby. “Yes,” said she to herself, as she again dwelt upon the tenderness of the prec ious letters, “the sacrifice must be made. I must gratify my dear mother, even though it be at the expense of my own happiness. I will be Mrs. Somerby.” Fanny looked out upon the quiet sky, the moon and stars, and thought, “How fine a tale could be made from this—a daugh&r sacrificing herself for the sake of her mother!” It was time to write her answer to the letter; but how should she begin? Must it be with “Mr. Somerby, sir?” Oh, no, that was too formal. With “My dear sir?” That was too affectionate. And when the matter had been settled and the letter fairly written, the equally im portant question remained how she should subscribe herself. Was she to be “Yours, respectfully,” or “truly,” or “sincerely,” or “affectionately?” A diffi cult problem! But all things have an end, and the letter was sent. Then it was that Fanny’s heart began to quake. What if Mr. S. should not fancy her handwriting? Perhaps her note was too cold, maybe too hot; he might not expect an answer so soon and would be shocked at her haste. But all these heart-quakings were in vain—the letter was gone. To pass away the time, which now hung heavily upon her hands, Fanny called to tell Julia the whole story. The kind friend was in raptures. “Just the man for you, my dear,” she cried. “So he says he has met you in your walks and at church. Well,’ I can imagine how he looks; he’s the very image of my husband, I’ve no doubt.” Fanny next called upon the second di rectress of the Anti-Matrimonial Society, a young lady of an uncertain age, and informed her that for private reasons she must resign her own office, begging her friend to make this resolution known to the society at their next meeting. Meanwhile the four sisters ran to tml the news. Each one had her own par ticular friend who must not be forgotten, aud in the course of two days, it was kno-wn to all Fanny’s acquaintances that the fair damsel had been wooed and won. The third day passed, and there had come no letter from the impatient lover. Fanny resolved not to sleep a wink that night. “What will become of me,” thought she; “I must be in love!” Iu the midst of her despair she fell asleep. The next morning a little note, sealed with “Forgive and forget!” was brought from the office. Fanny ran to her own room to read it at her ease, pressing it to her lips all the way up stairs. Behold the note opened: “Dear Fanny” —(“Why, how bold!” thought she) —“We have been amusing ourselves at your expense by writing you a letter signed‘Thomas Somerby.’ We are afraid that we have carried the mat ter too far, and must now beg you to think of this imaginary person no longer. Now don’t be angry, Fanny dear, for we are both quite sorry, and are ready to hunt up for you a real Mr. S., who will write better letters than the pretended one. Affectionately, “JuiiiA and George.” Fanny sat like one petrified. At last she slowly rose, looked in the glass to know if she were pale, tried to faint away, and called her mamma. Mrs. Harper’s indignation knew no bounds. “And so we shall have no wedding, after all,” said Ann. “And we shan’t have our new dresses,” sighed Matilda. “And there’ll be no wedding cake,” screamed Tom. “It was that horrid George Thomp son, ” suggested Fanny. “What an impertinent fellow,” cried Kate. And everybody, vexed and disap pointed, turned away to fret, to wander aud to scold. Ann and Lucy ran to bum up the verses which they had written about wedded bliss; Kate descended to the kitchen to tell the story there, mid Bam. and Tom, having vented their dis appointment in bestowing upon Mr. George Thompson the name of “weak sister,” departed for schooL “I thought it was a hoax all the time,” said Fanny, the next time she met Julia. “Oh, did you? Well, lam glad of it. We were afraid that vou did not suspect it,” “La, as if I should ever marry!” re turned Fanny. NEWS GLEANINGS. Twelve hundred cars of lumber and shingles were shipped from Beaumont, Texas, during April. Fishermen recently from the gulf stream report having seen schools of Spanish mackerel which were unprece dented in number. Maine capitalists have formed a com pany, wit*i stock fixed at $200,000, bought property opposite the City Hall at Hot Springs, Ark., and will erect a mammoth hotel. Haynesville (Ala.) Examiner: We notice th£ millions of locusts all over this section of the county. They eat the leaves of trees, grass, etc., but have not bothered the crops as yet. The late Dr. Hemry Hull, who was born in Wilkes county, Ga., in 1798, and died May 10, 1881, was professor of mathematics and astronomy in the State University at Athens, Ga., 1829-1846. He was associated with General Andrew Jackson in concluding the treaty with the Cherokee Indians. Certain colored military companies have applied for admission into the State militia of Louisiana. These or ganization will be mustered in when properly perfected and uniformed, if they pass inspection. The New Orleans States says that one of these companies, the Attacks Guards, called after the first colored man killed on the battle field during the civil war, has existed, in an independent condition, for some time, and bears a fair character for instruc tion and dicipline. Dr. W. C. Capeheart, who owns two fisheries on Albemarle sound, in North Carolina, told a Herald reporter that he thought the spawning ground of the striped b*ss or rock fish has been found. If it can be defiinitely located he thinks that the results will be beyond compu tation, and the rock will rapidly become the mb-'* important fish in Southern waters. V A*4erson (S. C.) Intelligencer: There is some talk —in fact, a strong probabil ity—that;ai effort will be made in An derson this summer to elect a dry ticket, and in view of this movement we are informed that the wholesale liquor deal ers residing outside of the State have, by their salesmen, promised to contri bute from two to six barrels of whisky towards controlling tne vote in favor of a continuance of license. * * * We will not submit to outside interference in oui elections, and those engaged , in the liquor business, either within or without the town, had better not umkortake to control those elections by contributions of free whisky by parties outside of the State. (Ga.) Dispatch: In Dodge tounty last week the editor of this psjuer talked with the tax receiver of that county. He gave us figures shower, that the taxable property of that county had increased in 1880 over 1879 to'4he amount of over SIIB,OOO, or about twenty per cent. On Saturday last tb? late tax receiver of Pulaski county informed us that the taxable property of this county had increased during *“he last four years nearly a half million dollars, Or frem $1,125,000 to $1,160X00. In Telfair county the in crease ii one year was about $150,000, and ifi ‘ Coffee county the increase was about $135,000. Minden, La., correspondence New Or leans democrat: Webster parish is noted for an abundance of fish and game. Hundreds, we might say thous ands of persons, make it convenient to spend jt few days during the spring or summer on the banks of the Dorchete catching fish. The bayou is at these seasons literally filled with cat, buffalo, trout, black and striped bass, white or speckled perch, red perch and goggle eye, pike, gar, turtle, etc. Deer, wild turkey, etc. are so numerous in the flats west of the Dorchete, as to seriously annoy farmers, in the winter season an immense number of wild fowl are found in Lake Briteneau—the various kinds of duck, brant, geese and occa sionally a swan. The parish is indeed a hunters paradise. Doty and Inclination. Ton never see the struggle between duty and inclination more strongly marked in the respectful attitude of a dog sitting on the sidewalk, head bent' back, and one foot aimed at the back of his ear, undecided whether to SDriiur ud and answer the imperative 3? hi. master, or sit sffll and shoot the flea fie has just got the exact range and elevation on. Effect of Dynamite in a Boston Man’s Stomach. Mr. Meatmarket deserved sympathy. The assassination of the Gear caused much discussion of the power of dyna mite, and in a beer saloon one day Mr. M. expressed the belief that if a dog were to swallow a teaspoonful of the stuff and then be thrown from a fourth-story win dow he would blow up with a concussion that would loosen all the plastering within a quarter of a mile. The proposi tion seemed absurb to Mr. Gallagher. He resolved to test the sincerity of Meatmarket’s belief. Going behind the bar he mixed a drink, and after the lat ter had swallowed the drink Gallagher informed him that there was something like five spoonfuls of dynamite in it. The horror that took possession of Meat market was indescribable. He evidently was sincere. He drew a pistol to shoot Gallagher, but didn’t dare to fire for fear the concussion would cause him to ex plode. And the crowd wanted him to be careful. And he begged them to move lightly, and took off his boots so as not to jar, and the streets were crowded and every body seemed to jostle him. H© had a horrible time getting home, and arrived there in a cold sweat and nearly exhausted. Just as he entered the house his wife rushed to embrace him. He warned her off. Then his son upset the irtoye and gave him a terrible scare. He retired to liis chamber and lay on a feather bed, and gave orders that nobody should walk, excepton tiptoe, and without shoes, in the house. He didn’t dare to take an emetic to remove the stuff, for fear it would be exploded in coming up. And the agonies of terror he suffered were awful. There was danger of his going mad. But the worst was to come. Some how his house got afire. It had got great headway when discovered, and his only escape was to jump from a second story window. Whether to die by burn ing or explosion was a terrible question to decide. His distress of mind was dreadful; but the hot flames drove him to the leap. He expected on alighting to blow himself and all the bystanders into eternity, and he yelled to them to stand away; but they didn’t, and he had to leap among them. To his amazement he didn’t fly into a thousand fragments. He only skinned his hands and knees. He rose up the happiest man in Boston. But when he began to tell of his marvel ous escape they informed him he was the victim of a joke. He hadn’t swallowed any dynamite. Then his wrath was greater than his terror, and it took four men to hold him till he calmed down a little. And he is only waiting to meet Gallagher to cut that gent’s throat.— Boston JPost. A Poet’s Study. A correspondent of the Louisville Courier-Journal, who has been visiting Mr. Longfellow’s home, writes: “If the influence of surroundings can be felt in conversation it surely might in that delightful apartment; the room where most of Mr. Longfellow’s poems have been written, and where many of his souvenirs are gathered from abroad and distant parts of this country. It is large and square and has several win dows in it. There are carved bock-cases (one of which is filled with his own works), portraits of his literary friends in their youth, and two of himself—one taken at the age of twenty, the other re cently—some venerable cabinets, plenty of easy-chairs, etc. In one corner, be tween two windows, eash having a wide and varied prospect, is his writing-desk, heaped with papers. I paused theis a moment and looked out on the hills and the trees, as if to catch some memento of the inspiration that has come to the poet in that particular place. In the center of the room is a large square table, laden with many objects. The inkstand used by Wordsworth (I think), some rare books, notably a copy of the first edition of Bryant’s poems, some Vene tian vases, filled with newly cut flowers, etc., etc. As Mr. Longfellow talked with me of Hawthorn and Emerson, he pointed to their portraits—and of many other authors and authoresses, English, German, Italian, and American—it was delightful to find that ho expressed himself so kindly of all. Of course, I was eager to hear him talk, and sug gested topics, if he paused with infinite courtesy for me to express an opinion. In speaking of Dante, he went to a carved oak box and unlocked it, from which he brought forth a little glass case, in which are some bits of the great Italian’s coffin. After a while he showed me the lower part of his house, the drawing-room, with its objects of art, and the stair-case, where a tall Dutch clock rests on the landing—not *The Clock on the Stair-case,’ but a more fanciful one that has taken the old clock’s place. It is a quaint house, not elegant, but more than that, it is charm ing, homelike, and telling, as everything in it gives one an idea of its unusual oc cupation. One would hardly believe it could be one hundred and fifty years old. Washington lived in it nine months. His office was the room used by Mr. Longfellow as his study. Most of the rooms are as Washington left them in shape, although some trifling alterations have been made. On the east side oi the house is a broad piazza, where the poet loves to walk. He still writes and works as though he was a young man. He is vigorous, and bids fair for many years to come to enjoy the honors which his talents and industry have created fot him. A German paper says that Carl Schurz speaks better English than any American does. We would reply to this foolish and prejudiced person in the language of Goethe: “Auchderchowder dowzen nichts mer zwei lager und der pretzel. Das ist ein campaign lie giedamt.”— New York Commercial, SUBSCRIPTION-$1.50. NUMBER 41. GEMS OF THOUGHT. On every night thero lies repose. Imagination is the greatest despot. There is no real life but cheerful life. .Want of good sense is the worst kind of poverty. Impatience dries the blood sooner than age or sorrow. Love without return is like a question without an answer. Love; faith, patience—the three essen tials to a happy life. Pride hath two seasons—a forward spring and a early fall. It is best not to dispute where there is no possibility of convincing. Asa fire is discovered by its own light, so is virtue by •its own excellence. Ideas are like beards; men do not have them till they grow up— Voltaire. Pretty women are like sovereigns; one flatters them only through interest. There are three classes of'men; the ret rograde, the stationary, the progressive. Great souls by instinct to each other turn Demand alliance, and in friendship burn. —Addison. Suspicions among thoughts are like bats among birds; they ever fly by twi light. Always there is a black spot in our sunshine; it is the shadow of ourselves. — Carlyle. The wise man as well as the fool makes blunders. The wise man, however, never makes the same blunder twice. Appearnces are nothing, if you are in the right, but if you are in the wrong you must pay especial attention to them. No man knows what a ministering angel his wife is until he has gone with her through the fiery trials of this world. There’s not a heart, however rude, But hath some little flower, To brighten up its solitude. And scent the evening hour. Pleasure is seldom found where it is sought. Our highest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks. The best way to apologize is to do such a kindness to the offended one that he will forget that you ever attempted to injure him. As man is the wiser for his learning, it may administer matter to work in, or objects to work upon; but wit and wisdom are born with a man. Well, well the world must, turn upon its axis, And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails, And live and die, make love and pay our taxes, And as the veering mind shifts, shift our sails. The way to produce a smile on the face of nature is to plant it with seeds of flowers. Tickle naturo in that way and she will laugh with blossoms. The foundation of every good govern- * ment is the family. The best and most prosperous country is that which has the greatest number of happy firesides. Many a splendid genius was the despair of a good father when young. But all of a sudden he awoke and went into ac tion like a soldier into battle, and made a name that will live forever. The two most precious things on this side of the grave are our reputation and our life. But it is to be lamented that the most contemptible whisper may de prive us of one, and the weakest weapon of the other. Love ! what is it, and whence comes it? How much has been written about it, and how idly! Neither statement, comparison, nor analysis avails. Love is love, a thing like nothing else in the world—as real as a second sight. It alone bestows the power of seeing a hundred new truths otherwise invisible. — Michelet. A Very Funny Criticism. The pass to which foreigners may be led by mistaking so-called Americanisms for the normal and habitual speech of the country is well shown in the follow ing edifying paragraph from Karl Faul mann’s Illustrirte Cultur-Oeschichte , volume 1, page 134. The column headed “Amerikanisch” is given in all earnest ness as a specimen of the English spoken in America, while under it is placed what the author considers the correct English equivalent. The italics are ours: AM ERIK A NISH. I haf ron funny )eed!e poy Votgomee rchust to my knee, Der queerest schap, der createst rogue, As efer you dit see; He runs and schutups and schmasches dings In all barts off der hause— But rot off dot? he vas my son, Mine leedle Yawcob Strauss. nrouscH. I hare one funny little boy What game* just to my knee, The queerest iha)>e, the greatest rogue, A* ever you did see; He runs and jumps and smashes things In all parts of the house. But what of that? he mu my son, My little Jacob Strauss. A woxi)EKFuniiY gigantic scheme has been brought to the attention at the New York General Assembly, in the shape of a water route from New York to Chicago. It is proposed to util ize the Erie Canal by lining it through out its entire leDgth (352 miles) with a thick layer of hydraulic cement, at a cost of SIO,OOO a mile, or $3,500,000 for the entire length. The western part of the plan contemplates a canal of equal ca pacity with the Erie across Southern Michigan, by which it is estimated 1,000 miles of lake navigation can be saved. The capital is to be furnished by the Western capitalists, who will ask no re muneration from New York for the im provement to the Erie Canal until the whole canal debt is paid off, and are willing to trust their reimbursement then to the honor of the people, who must amend the State Constitution be fore a dollar can be paid for any such purpose. The canal will afford naviga tion for steam propellers of moderate size, which will average a speed of fif teen miles an hour.