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ms DEVOTIONS.
(From Our Continent.]
Ttic crgiin g ain, (he choir is singing;
I wonder if she knows I'm here V
Err thoughts, no doubt, arc upward winging,
While mine sink, clogged with doubt and
fear.
*T>* (die. of course; there's no mistaking
Her crowded, glossy braids of brown,
And that's the bonnet she w as making;
I sat and watched tier bead tbe crown.
Sow deft her fingers are, how busy!
Ah t happy man within whose home—
Bnt, Stay! such thoughts they make me dizzy,
And have no place beneath this dome.
Par better should I ponder gnrnly
My faults committed, duties missed,
flow neat her glove is, and how trimly
It buttons round her slender wrist!
Ah! vain and poor is earthly pleasure;
No wonder that otir sad hearts yearn
To some more high arid lasting treasure—
They're sitting down; perhaps she’ll turn—
Thank Heaven, hJk: urea me ! She in flinging
A »woet reproachful glance my way.
y<!«, dear, indeed I have teen Hinging,
And now, my saint, I mean to pray.
M. Brujoks.
OVER THE SEA FOR PATSY.
A HTony OK llllHII I.IFB.
There was a young man living on the
Hath Estate named Patrick McDermot,
nr “Patsy,” as he was generally idle, called iu
the country. He waa an rollick¬
ing, pleasant and fellow, remarkably favorite good
looking, a general amongst
the girls. held smalt His parents until their death
had a attached plot of ground, and n
house or cabin ; but not having
been of an industrious disposition, they
sank fct once—as did thousands of others
-—when “the hungry year” came upon
them. When a firm demand was made,
»nd a clear understanding come to, that
the rent must be paid or the land sur¬
rendered, jKior Patsy “lost his presence
of mind," as he expressed it, anil frankly
confi'ssed lie did not know what to do.
‘‘Well, McDermot,” said I, ns he aji
•peared one day "what in reply to a summons
from iny office, are you going to
do? You owe four years’ rent. Are you
going to settle the amount?”
“Couldn't your honor call me
•Patsy?' " replied ho, evading kindly my ques¬
tion with adroitness ; “it’s a sort
of name the neighbors lias for me, and
I’d know fur better how to spake to your
honor if you was to use it yourself.
“ I have no objection,” I answered,
“and shall be happy to call you I’atsy
in future; but that does not affect my
question, and 1 must know at once what
your intentions are, ns I cannot allow
yon to remain in possession of your land
sinless yon come to some settlement
ml tout your rent.’'
“Well, well, now," observed Pat v,
ttcriitehing bis head iu a puzzled manner.
“ I have no money to ‘pay tip,’ ns you
call it, and a* I don’t want to put your
honor to any trouble, T suppose I roust
only (U.(i cross thrsnyH like the America. rest of them,
seek ray fortune in And
yet,” he continued, in an altered tone,
1 think there is one girl, and only one,
who would fret in earnest after me. Bui
it can't lie helped, she I’m must put able up with
fuuue other boy, for not to pay
nor stay; and I’d never ax her to boar
w»o hardship of coming ont with me even
if she were willin' to do it—which in
troth I doubt she would lie; for the
iprl* likes them wind—why best ns can wouldn’t always they, sail
with a fair
poor things? Ho when will your honor
worn! me out? I have no money to pay
for my passage, nor to buy a ha'porlU
for the journey; so I will give yon up
my little place freely, and I only goutio- hope
your honor w ill net by mo like wor.” a
Kimii, as no doubt you always
I told him that Lord Bath always his
wished those who emigrated from es¬
tate to go out comfortably, and that 1
wotil i provide for him as well ns I could;
that he should have a free passage to any
jsirl in America he pleuvd, a respectable
outfit, and a sovereign in his hand on
1 .iiulinq.
"Well, your lion or," observed Patsy,
on learning wlmt could lie done for him,
“it's all very fair, and as much as I could
eel; mill the world will go harder
•with me than ever it’s done yet, it I don't
Joiock ns good a living did out of ouhl tin Ireland; m elnqis
in Vnevhu as ever 1 in
yui 1 will give you up my little place
*v!uni'vei' your honor wishes it, and—
wlmt is better I'll give you my blessing
nlong with it. You may put luo down
for Boston.”
About three or four days after my in¬
terview with Patsy, a young woman eiimA
into niv office; a:id nuking if she could
s,‘e me alone, slie addressed mo ill aqilick
and abrupt umuner.
“Has Patsy McDcnuot got a ticket?”
“1 don’t know what you mean, " I an
awered.
“llus vouv honor given Patsy MeDei
niot a tieki t for America ?’’ asked the
Rill. tickets,” said T; "but
“I never {.’ivt i
Me Dor mot has expressed liis intention
tc* emigrate, nml I hare entered his name
on the list. He is to have a five passage
to Boston w henever he chooses girl; to go.”
“To Boston !” exclaimed the “to
Boston 1 and why to Boston?”
*T don't know,'’ replied L "I gave
liim his choice of any jvn t he w ished t»>
SH‘hvt, and I think he uunnsl Boston os
the one; but I would as srhiu send him
anywhere else. I suppose you are his
sister from your likeness to him?"
"It would to 1 better for both of us may
tie if l was," observed the girl, “bnt I’m
not, though the neighbors often said we
'•was like.”
When first the girl came into the room
elie had kept her face jautly eoncaltxl,
by jwessmg her shawl «p to her mouth;
liiit iu her anxiety to obtain information
omstvmiug Putsv she had gradually
lowered her hand, so that her full features
•were now before me. She was a pure
“Celt, both in her appearance and man¬
ner. Her hair was Mack a* jet, her eyes
dark and flashing, and as rapid as light¬
ning in motion.
It struck me at once, from the exces¬
sive anxiety of the voting woman to ob¬
tain information concerning Patsy, that
as she was not his sister, she was prob¬
ably the girl te whom he had alluded as
’“only one who without would fret in earneet
lor him.” So appearing to take
any peculiar r interest is the case, l merely
waked her name.
“Catherine Fuman,” answered the girl;
“why does your honor want to know it?”
“You told me,” McDennot’s I replied, “that and you I
were not Patsy sister,
specially wanted merely interested to inquire in ascertaining why you what are
port he goes to. If you have any good
reason for wishing to know this, and if
Patsy won’t tell you himself, come to me,
and I will tell you where and when ho
goes. ”
“Your honor called hifn 'Patsy,’ ob¬
served the girl; “did you ever know him
la-fore now ?”
“No,” replied knowledge I; “that until is, I never saw
him to my he came be¬
fore me the other day when sent for; I
u a a fo bring hirn to some settle¬
ment, as he owed four years’ rent, and T
could not get him to pay anything; but J
hear he is always is such Patsy in the and country,
because he a favorite, espe¬
cially amongst the girls.
Her countenance changed a little as I
said this; but she was silent for a few
moments. Hlie then said firmly, but
with a strange, might suppressed nice energy— and
“He have a place,
plenty in it of the tost as long as he
lived, if he would only once spake the
word; but lie didn't spake it yet, and
now I suppose he never will. Well, let
lnm k“; I’d die sooner than I’d tell
him t
Passion was in her countenance arid
resolution in her manner as she said
and, unot her word, or even
motion to me, she suddenly
h ft, the rooW^
I could not but see exactly how how mat
ters stood; but 1 did not know to
remedy lady’s the case feelings unless by revealing object her the
young to the of
affections. J resolved, on my next inter¬
view with Patsy, to try if 1 could give
him a hint as to how accordingly, matters really about were.
1 made inquiries, the
girl, and found that her father was owner
of some eight or nine acres of land, on
which In' had a comfortable house; that
ho was comparatively rich, the and whole, had saved
some money, and was. on well
to-do in the world. Ho had only one child,
Catherine. Her mother had died soon
after her birth, and lie, having been
much attach? d to his wife, had never
married again. Catherine, establishment. accordingly,
waa sole mistress of the
Her father dearly loved her, anb in some
respects she was a spoilt child. But she
also dearly loved her father; and though
wayward and quick-tempered kind and toward gentle
others, she was always
toward him. She felt lie lmd no female
companion but herself; and that perhaps
it was partly for her sake in after lifo—
when his grief for liis wife had worn off
lie hiul not married another, lest he
should bring in one who must necessarily
lie put over her in the house. Accordingly,
with the quick wit of her race—mainly
on her father’s account, and in repay¬
ment of his self-denial, and partly in on her
own ueeonnt, lest, lie should come lone
.-onio and supersede her—she did her ut¬
most to render her father happy; and
when tliis is truly done toward man,
what woman call ever fail?
Hut Catherine soon began to have other
objects, hopes, and aspirations besides
those of attending on her father. Kho
nevi r neglected iiie hue or his household for
a moment, and latter was well-known
as a model of neatness, comfort and thrift;
but, as she grew up to womanhood, and
her beauty and engaging qualities l>o
(■aine developed, site naturally attracted
many suitors amongst the young men of
flie dimtri-.-t, Sti® nnn considered ill the
country as an heiress of some wealth ;
and happy would the “boy" be con¬
sidered who could secure her aflocti«*s
and her farm.
Aimmgst t lie wanderers after Catherine,
Patsy used sometimes to come. But lie
did not wire to lie so often with her as
others. Tlie fact was, Patsy was not a
marrying man. He found liis course of
had lire so pleasant as a bachelor, that lie
just then no inclination to change
:t. lie was known to have a “nice
little place of his own,” and Patsy pm
dently kept paid liis own counsel the about not
having any vent, mid oonse
qin ut aeetinmlnfion of arrears. lie was
hands, my and always pleasant; and like
many n bachelor in high life, under not
very dissimilar financial circumstances,
in' was a capital diner-out in his own
more humble way; and hi' lived most
joyously on the fruits of his good looks.
Under these jH'culisr cireunistitnees, and
for private reasons besides, which Patsy
d‘d not choose to disclose, lie had no de
snv whatever to lay siege to the affee
bens of the heiress, but eontanted lnm
self with such a modest amount, ofutten
non as would secure him a welcome when
« ver nnv was on foot aiOath
< vine s iiospitaMc liiiiiK'. that those
Bui it sometimes happens Imiress
who show least attention to au
uttract her particular attention; and
Catherine, lieiug naturally of a quick and
jealous nature became quite annoyed at
the easy way in which the chief bean
amongst the vouug men of the country
tivstixl her. She ket herself acoordSngly task of
to win him. Iu. undertaking a
tlie kind—whichm the tiret instance was
done purely from beyond pique—she what soon she had lie
c line interesteHl
originally intended ; and oliserving the
: <luamuM*, quiot deportment, «ud
.knitted good looks of Patsy McDermot,
she was unintentionally whom she had caught .intend,ri by the to
v vy man
iquim*. isaw all this, and knen
it quite as well, or far better, than she
,:id. With all las apparently careless
habits, he was a shrewd and thoughtful
follow ; and, in truth, he was rather
afraid that Catherine would lie too many
for him if he were bound to her m mat
riuiouiid links. He admitted the beauty
and attractions toitli of her person and
her place; bnt her temper was high,
and her wit quick, so that-aa Patsy ac
knviwlodged—" he would be afeared of
his life to vex her.” And aecordiugly,
though he perfectly saw, from her man
ner toward him, how matters really
stood, yet he kept a respectful accompanied distance by
-always gome there
others, aid taking care to avoid any- of
thing which could lead to a disclosure
her Affairs filings. this state when my m
were in
terview with ratsv occurred ; and, if the
truth must be told, I believe mid his readi
ness te give ur> his place emigrate
was accelerwtea by an undefined fertmg
which came over him occasionally, that
have V marrf Catherine whether h*
liked it or not; as every one ttod him
she was such s self-willed giri that
I and " Fair do she’d what marTyany^man she liked with shepherd, him aftc*
ward r
Under (Lose discaraging circum
stances, Patsy thong'd prudence the
1 letter part of valor, tad ne was by no
moans unwilling to toe tin opportun¬
ity now afforded liim telly. Catherine
For about a fortnight after exit from s
appearance and abruf ray
<>f'lice, I neither saw n<.' heard anything
! .f either party; but art the end of that
period Patsy came tone, and told me
lie was prepared to?” to I go. asled. “Are
“Where you be¬
going to Boston, as y>u told me
fore ?”
“ Whisht, your hour, spake ’asy!”
replied Patsy, droppin* his voice to i
low kev; “ that was our umake-believe;
it’s to New York your hfior must send
me. 1 never intended 0 go to Boston
ai
“ And why did yon name inquired. Boston to
me in the first instance ” I
t . Why, ye see,” repll-d Patsy, a little
confused, “I didn’t watt the neighbors
to know anything at all ,bout it. When
a ]>oor boy goes out to <-»ek his fortune
anew, it’s better no om should know
anything about him beforehand.”
“That depends on vhet sort of a
‘ fKior boy’ he has been, ’ said I. “But
do you know, leaving Patsy, I doubt if yon all; are
wise in the coitatry at a
good-looking, might have likely plli . f such girls as glad you to
aro,
take him; and if you got anything of a
fortune it would be east# I !ee, i* clear off the
debt upon the little f and yon
Anigh t Jiv? well eno ugh wthe old court
tryyeC*’ watched , afWpvt-.T ---- all the
Patsy i speaking, mo said,
while was aiuMt last he
r/ith a sly look, hut will put moving a
muscle of his face— L‘
I heard tell silo was v#h your honor
since I saw you.” L
“ I could hardly keep found ngeountenance,
as 1 felt that I was out. I kept
it, however, and replied
“ You heard who was me?”
“ It’s your honor’s e hat knows
well what I mean,” said yqi^ I \y; r “ for all
you look so gravo, ns if is ' going to
a burying; but in troth ii’s no go this
time neither. I’ll tell ycur honor a se¬
cret—whisper I”—and he put his hand
to the side of his month, as if to prevent
some imaginary person fro® hearing the
announcement of his solemn bnt secret
conviction—“ whisper ! your honor, I’m
ashamed to confess it to ,uiv one but
yourself, afeared but by 1” this andjby that, I’m
of her I,
I could not help laughing outright as
he committed this awful secret to my
keej ling.
“Well, perhaps you are right; away
with you to New York, or wherever you
please, and no one shall know your des¬
tination from me until you are gone six
months at all events. After that j ou
must look out for yourself.”
“ All right, much your honor,” replied Patsy, give
apparently relieved; “only she
mo six months’ start of her ; and if
ever blame.” ketches mu after, it’s not yourself
I’ll
Patsy left accordingly with an ord«
for New York, telling wasAiSWestination, eveiwonc-, as lie
did so, that Boston
as he had often heard bis mother say
tlmt a sister’s husband lived there, and
“got mighty rich hoped by keeping a grand
hotel, where bo to have free quar¬
ters for the remainder of his life, and die
there eatiu’ and drinkin', and no one to
hinder him.” '%Psy
About, a year after \
have v—luteJ, and ldug am.
his affairs had complehpy presented escaped her¬ my
memory, iny a young woman dr
self iu office. Her 'ss was unusu¬
ally good, for one evidently of'the peas¬
ant class; her countenance w’.is intelli¬
gent, and her manner and Mipearanee it
far beyond the ordinary type, jilt thought
I recognized her features; I had
been in communication i many
thousands of people since had seen
her, that I could not rememwr w ho slio
was. Shi' addressed me in a quiet jnan
ner :
“Perhaps you don’t remember me,,
air?”
-j am nshamed have’seen to say I do not,” re
plied I; “I know I your face
before, but I don’t recollect where, or
under what circumstances,”
“p) 0 yon remember Catherine Far¬
nan ?» and
ITe whole affair between Patsy in
] 1(>r ru sl lo d back upon my memory rather’ a
moment, and I exclaimed, sud
denly_
,< Qh ! ves I know all about you now.
j s there ai,ything I cun know do for about you?” me?”
, Xlu ] what j,, Ton
askt , d tll0 , rl , k ra ising her handsome and.
t j liw iuug eyes, and'looking mo straight
jj was- rny turn now to look a little
col ,f ll8<H j ; however, I merely said—
,, y lv ,’ ot VOT1 the young woman that I
m ; 8 h K >k for' Patsy 'e McDermot’s sister,
wlunl Ton , wket i m where he was going,
, ^ 8nrprige< j when I told you its
to Boston?” me,” observed
j 8( , e yon remember
t i, e cirl ’ quietly, her suspicions being
, 1(V mv reply. “But did lm go
t 0 °.* jtoston*?” >
ij 0 Jid not.”
„ di<l he go?” York,” I arswered,
,, it., wont to New
^’ h ’f TL f u u v absolved from my
mouths’ y Putsv.
1 «'
, T mid
monunitK* sho then said ealmlv_
week." '
1 buried * father last
Indeed! I did not know he W
(1omk j suppoBt “ . then, vou have come
u , cousult as to what vou bad tost
do about the farm May I ask have
, married since I saw vou ?”
" •• No ” ^ replied the girl f “ if or I won’t
mftrry 00UIltrv . have made up
( mind to sell all i have here—for aU
fa her biu i he left to me-and I’ll go out
to New York at once ”
“ New York 1” I exclaimed- “why to
jfew ' York? You don’t mean—”
.. l do ni eaii,’’ said the girl, interrupt- let
me .. thoU gh vour hononlid not on
a Kmt it even tomVself—and I am obliged
to {oT that'some; vet sure enough
XO u know all about it just as well as I
Jo. Whether Patsv ever cared for me
’ ^ I know
or not j aoB>t kuo but
j neTer eaml for anv one bnt Patsv . I m
il8tpmined to see tam in New York, for
j ll( , ar oth ^ „ wefl as from your
^ 1( ^ he i, there. I am not going gold
<mt f for | at her had a bag of
the
then he’d hive some money hundred to
l<saTe the country. I have two
„ ^ veK>igM Wi, h me now , ^ plenty
( j beside* st home, which I can
sell. So, as I said, I won’t go out poor.
If Patsy is married when I go out, why
then I can set up some business for
myself, or perhaps I’ll come back to the myself old
country again—for never share else.
or the gold sovereigns with any one
But if Patsy is of the tarn'- mind as I am
now, why I’ll take care and let him know
it some way or other. What’s the use of
two people being shame unhappy for tried life on that ac¬
count of a false ? I
long enough, but I’ve got more sense
now. ”
“I think your resolution an excellent
one,” said I, “ sound common sense;
and I have no doubt it will be ap
light-headed predated by Patsy. fellow, He was who always liked a
young and amusing
living among his friends,
himself up and down in preference to
steady indust ry. I hope, if you meet
him in New York, and if matters turn
out as you and all of us must wish, that
you will cure him of those idie habits.”
“May be I won’t be able to find him
after all!” exclaimed the girl, with a
look of intense pain, as if the idea had
suddenly shot across her mind. “May
be I’ll never see him again ! Oh ! what
would I do if, after my long weary jour¬
ney, I’d never see Patsy again ?” al¬
She sat silent for a noment as if
most stupefied at her the previous reflection; and of
then recovering rapidity yri^jj^al- train
thought with a and
most marvelous, she burst y
ous ‘ ‘ and But triumphant if once I do tone ketch^i^^^^K : ^L M
it to him ? Well, well, nommer
But if I won’t give it to Patsy iu earnest,
when once I ketch him, you may say my
name isn’t Catherine Farnan 1”
She rose, held out her hand to me;
and half crying at the possibility of being
unable to find liim, and laughing almost
hysterically at the idea of w hat she would
do to him if she did “ketch him,” she
left the apartment.
Her uncle came in next day to make
some arrangements about her farm.
“Catherine seems quite determined
upon going,” I remarked to him when
we were alone.
“Sheis, sir. She lias had her mind made
Up to it this long time, and nothing but
unwillingness to leave the old man kept
her here until now.”
“Bid her father know of her regard
for Patsy ?” I inquired. uncle;
“He knew it well,” replied her
“and good cause lie had too, as it was
that broke him down in the end, though
Katty did her best to satisfy him. He
was always bemoaning the fancy she
took for ‘that idle spalpeen,’ as he used
to call Patsy, and wanting her to marry
some of flic quiet dacent boys in the
neighborhood.” glad he his daughter his
“I am gave
blessing before he died. And so now
she is off to America to seek Patsy
McDermot, that has taken so strong a
hold upon her, though he hardly knew
it himself. ”
“Just that, sir,” replied the uncle,
“I did my best with her, bnt it was all
’ I told her at tlie wake
to no use. oven
that may be her father wouldn’t stay
’asy in his grave if she left the old conn
try. But it was all no use—she would
go. She said she had tus olessm , and
he was sure to lie asv enough. Hut: bid
me not sell the little place till shed
write herself from America; as may be,
if she failed to ketch Patsy, she d like to
come back and tlie here. Sp I hope
your honor win lot the li.tie farm rest
awhile in my name, and Ill pay the rent
regular, and' be a good tenant as ever her
father was before.
“Well, let it be so, saw! I. Tbe
ease is a singular one, and I would no,
wish to put it out of her power to come
back and live mid die here, if her mission
to America should turn out a failure.”
“God bless you, sir, replied he; it
anything would keep the old man lie 11 asy it
would be that. I don t think ever
walk when he hears that tha- little place
a sl ran S er -
Catherine Farnan left Ireland soon
after the above conversation and she
hasnever since returned. I heard that
she did “ketch Patsy m New York,
He was still a bachelor and living the
Bumc pleasant idle life that he loved to
puss in Ireland. Patsy, as- .-night have
been expected, succumbed to bis inevita
ble fate soon after the arrival of Gather
jne. And though some of his former
boon companions whispered: that “lie
was afcar.1 of her” still, vet she wielded
ner power well, and with a firm and
steady eve to the benefit of her hand
some, though somewhat frolicsome bus
taunt ,ini.
Her uncle announced to me with a
triumphant smile, the “she did ketch
Mm him in in the the end end sure sure enough.” enough.” And * ’
doubtless—to use her own expression—
“she gave it to him well.” She gave
him all she had to give; her “two hum
dredgoold guineas,” her handsome per
son, and her sweetest smile, and, above
all, the true, chaste, unbounded love of
a warm and faithful Irish heart. Patsy
still lives, a happy monument of what a
spirited Irish girl can do when she sets
herself in earnest about it.
The Fruit Garden.
Supports \ . for blackberries,
an,l vines, mav be made in
vnnler and kept in readiness. Forblack
berries, stakes about, six feet high are
needed. A wire trellis is made by set
ting stout post at each end of the row,
with a strong wire running between, to
winch the vines are tied. The same
kind of support with the wire placed
lower, is well suited for rows of raspber
ries. Wire may be used for supporting
grapevines. The posts are to be set
eight to ten feet apart with a strip
nailed on near the ground, and perpendreu- another
at the top ; the wires pass
larly between the two horizontal strips,
The arms of the vines are fastened to the
lower cross-piece, and the young shoot*
«re raised up along the wires. The sup
ports use,! for the fruit garden should painted be
made ready m advance, and if
beforehan d, much time is saved ,
JoraxAUumc recrnt *•, u-p.iv— Father Twf lwish v.
*o kve so as to show the world my eon
tempt for wealth, remarked young
philosopher who was recovering
from the effects o a hfty-eent cigar
j : That s easy enough, said the old man
: become an editor. —Brooklyn EagUs.
i A Wsstkhx for almost 805(1 *' valuable that
mine
i b® »kd ned know it was lode-ed. Phila
d
DRINK OR FIGHT.
An Anecdote about Ole Bull.
Going down the Mississippi, Ole Bull
met on the steamboat a party of half
savage men, colonists from the far West.
W hile reading his newspaper he was ac
costed by one of the men, who had been
sent as a spokesman by his companions
with the request that the fiddler would
take a dunk with them, offering him a
whisky flask at the same time
I thank you, said Ole Bull, but I
never dnnk whisky fellow
With a curse the asked lnm if
he was a tee-totaler.
“No, but whisky is like poison to me
‘If you eau l drink, come and fight
The man , s comrades , , had , gathered .
round bun meantime, and tney all cried:
“If you won t dnnk, you must fight,
You look dam strong; show us what you
are good for.
“A Norseman can fight as well as any
body when his blood is up. but I can t
fight when my blood is cold, and why
should I ?
“You look like a strong fellow, and
dam it, you shall fight. ”
Seenig no way of escape, Ole Bull
quietly said: “Since you is insist on testing for
my strength, and there no # reason
fighting, I will tell you what I will do.
Let any one of you take hold of me m
any way lie likes, and I’ll wager that m
half a minute he shall lie on his back at
my feet.”
A big fellow was chosen, who stepped
forward and grasped the violinist round
the waist, but was instantly thrown over
his head by a sudden wrench, Ole and lay
senseless on the deck. Bull now
felt himself in a very uncomfortable
position, for he saw one of the man’s
oomrades draw a bowie knife, but wasre
lieved flask. when A good it was dose used only of its to contents open a
poured down his throat soon revived the
fainting man, and his question :
“How the deuce was I thrown down
liere ?” was answered by a shout of
laughter from his companions in which
lie himself joined. He sprang to his
feet, and after vainly trying to persuade
Ole Bull to show him how he had thrown
him, he said:
“Take this knife home with you; you
fight dam well; you areas quick as light
ning !”
The artist heard of the same fellow
later as having gone to an editor to call
him to an account for an adverse criti
cism on his playing, ready to fight for
for “tlie strongest fiddler he had ever
seen, anyhow.
Lost Babies,
A reporter in a New York paper thus
sketches one of liis encounters with tlie
little burden-bearing children who go
wandering cities. in incident the streets occurred of the last great Sep
Tlie
tember, but if September incidents of
the sorrows of poverty out of doors are
sari enough, winter time adds anguish to
the tragedy;
At the foot of the lamp-post at the
junction of Park Row ami Broadway sat
a givl,.not W!U1 ^ despondent group! A pale little
more than seven,held in her
ragged lap a baby on whose pallid brow
the sea j 0 f death seemed set. Just as the
r\:po»fo^»-.'.:.ied them a policeman caiie
along, and looking sharply the group,
exclaimed: j
“(qtt on „> that i”
“Hold on, little one. Officer, yon can
‘git’ yourself. Who are vou, little girl?”
name > 8 Mary Koppinger, and I
jj ve j u j ay 8tract ’ sir. »
. ‘ Brooklyn
“Yes, sir. Me madder's- sick, and I
cnme oner with tlie baby and I’ve lost
n)0 w;lv y>
“How did vou cross the ftuniy?”
“I dodged ’em sir”
Here the baby, £ ragged, dirt-v, began
to / The , itt girl cuddled. it to her
biva t aa(1 chil . ecl avvhiIe .
<‘ Baby sccmb sick.”
“Yes % sir ”
« Cau (lU tlie J home v
<<y- 0 ..
Now, no stage-driver woultl stop for
the ^ “likes of them,” and it was rather
embarrassing. To call a coupe was ab
surd; so., taking tlie little child by the
shoulder both her arms were full of
baby—the repoitor took her to the cor¬
of Beckman street and, put her m a
bobtau ear.
''ith two peaches m her poeket and a
q »—— n!U 'teE in —o—i- her grip the — little ------ matron —-■
almost smiled ns she said “good-by,
lalt hex sick and feeble charge cuddled
closer- as “ she ehn slept, olo ” f and «"’ 1 ' off they * w went
toward the City of Churches.
nulhon left > nia to r . very many,
ble„ ^ penniless Koppingers. Sink and in trou
and lost,, they roam the
' stlV( ' u S hungry and tired, until- -well,
wlmt ?
Rapiil Growth of a Colt.
A yearling colt of Mr. Robert Bonnet’s
celebrated breeding stud, in Westchester
County, New York, weighs 1,062 pounds,
yet is fine m all bis points, and .
to turn out a test trotter. Mr.
Bonner thinks he gets this early excep¬
tional size from an experiment the colt he tried
with his dam. Before was
weaned, he says he had the mother
brought up from pasture every night,
and fed six quarts of oats; and since the
eolt has learned to eat he also has been
fed abundantly with oats, iu addition to
goodjpasture in the summer and hay in
winter. Following up this system, North¬
ern horse breeders may get the same
size at as early an age as is now ob¬
tained in our Southern States and the
milder winters of California. In the lat¬
ter country there is good pasture all win¬
ter, and the colts receive no check in their
growth, as in common with all kinds of
stock unless they, receive extra care dur
ing the rigorous winters of the Northern
States. Mr. Bonner’s treatment of this
colt is the same as that pursued The by En
glish glisli breeders YireetieTs of ol race race horses. norsee. lneuamis dam is
not onlv fed an abundance of oats, but
the colt is also taught to eat them just as
goon as possible, which he learns to do
at an early age from the same trough as
hi« mother. At six months old—the
general age for weaning the colt—he has
1 earned to sustain himself well on grain,
grass, and bay, so that when weaned
there is no check in his the growth, bnt when he
keeps steadily along same as 1
sticking his dam.— Iiuraf New orfrer.
AN EMPRESS’S FANCY.
A Russian Ice Palace of a Century and a
Half Ago.
The construction of an ice palace carnival, at
Montreal ’ as a featU re of the
{akes us back to the time of the Em
f 8 Aun of Russia, who had one
jmU iu st Petersburg in 1739. From
an accoUDt of it published in 1741, the
following is extracted;
The manner of building was very
s i m ,,i e . the purest and most transparent
ice selected; it was cut from the
Neva iu large blocks, which were then
squared with rule and compass, and
carved out with all the regular architec
tural embellishments. When each block
was ready, it was raised to its destined
pj a< , e by cranes and pulleys, and an in¬
s t an t before letting it down upon the
block which was to support it, a little
water was thrown between the two, the
upper block was immediately lowered,
the water froze, and the two became lit—
eraUy one . Tke whole building, in fact,
appeared to be and really was all of one
single piece, “producing, without con
fradiction, an effect infinitely more the bean- most
tiful than if it had been built of
costly marble, its transparency and bluish
tint giving it rather the appearance of a
p rec ious stone.” The dimensions of the
building were, in English feet, measure, and
j height’ en „ tb feet . depth, roof, 18 21 feet. This
including the
js tke bod y c f the house ; the palisading width,
was 87 feet in length and 36 in
aTU | tlie actua i length of the front view,
including the pyramids at the comers,
was 114 feet. When the work was com
p j etc d the public were allowed an unre¬
sf r i c tfml passage through every part of
the building. This, at first, caused a
„ ood deal of confusion, which was, liow
ever obviated by surrounding the en
trance with a woollen railway and station
ing 1)0 i; ce officers, who allowed only a
cer tain number of persons in at one
time.
iphe facade was plain, being merely di
v ided into compartments by window, pilasters,
j u cacb division there was a the
framework of which was painted to rep
resen t green marble. It was, remarked
tb at the i ee , at the low temperature
which prevailed, took the paint perfectly
we j k The panes were formed of slabs of
j ce ns transparent and smooth as plate
glass. At night these windows were gen
era jjy lighted up, and most painted commonly
grotesque transparencies, the windows. on can- The
vas> were placed illumination in is said to have
effect of the
b een peculiarly fine, as the light ap
peared not only at the windows, but,
from the transparency of the materia],
the whole palace was filled with a deli¬
cate pearly light. The centre division
projected, and appeared to be a door;
but it was in fact a large window, and was
illuminated like the others. An orna¬
mental balustrade surrounded the facade
of the building, and behind wa» the
sloping roof with chimneys, in the usual
style of Russian architecture. A hand¬
some balustrade, nil of ice, ran round the
outside of the building. A large space
was left for a promenade between the
balustrade and the palace. There were
also two entrances behind, with gates
handsomely ornamented with orange
trees in feaf and flower, with binds
perched on She branches, all of ice.
turned, Six cannon, with their regularly xJheels and bored carriages-,' suu|
stood before the balustrade, three on
each side. These were of the calibre of
such as usually receive three pounds of
powder, but? being of so fragile a mate¬
rial, it was not considered safe to put in
more than a quarter of a pound ; the ball!
was of hard tow, well rammed in. Two
or three times- iron balls were fired from
these camion without bursting them.
The experiment was tried in the pres¬
ence of the Court, and the ball pierced
a strong plank, two inches thick, at a
distance of sixty paces. Two mortars
stood on each side of the entrance.
These were of the size of those which
carry a shell of eighty pounds. the When
fired the charge of powder was same
as that for the cannon,
On the same- line stood two dolphins,.
which were made to throw a stream of
inflamed naphtha out of their mouths at
night by means cf concealed tubes.
Charged with Crime.
Nothing can be more shocking than
the knowledge that a human being has
been hanged for a crime of which lie was
guiltless. Murderers frequently breath, protest
their innocence with tlieir last
and little attention is paid to their asser
bo ns; butt when it subsequently turns
out, • ' has. just - • happened • ‘ in ' %T New —” Hamp¬ --
as
shire, that the supposed criminal was
really not guilty of the crime imputed
to him, his. dying protestations appear in
a new light. In the New Hampshire
case, however, it appears that the man
who was hanged, one Joseph Bus well, al¬
though he was convicted on false- testi¬
altogether guiltless, < He
mony, was not
hired ui assassin to murder a girl, bat
afterward repented, and attempted to
prevent the crime, but did not reach the
place where the murder occnrred until
after the bloody work had been done.
The assassin confessed, and swore that
his principal was present when the mur¬
der was committed, and on this testimony
Bnswelt was hanged, and the assassin
- sent to State prison. The latte?has
just died, and on his deathbed confessed
his perjury. Although Buswcll was not
entirely innocent at least of criminal in¬
tent, yet, it appears, he was unjustly
hanged, and his case furnishes another
warning of the necessity of the exercise
of extreme care in proceedings which in¬
volve the question of depriving a man of
his life .—New To? i Sun.
High Toned.
A smooth talker went from house to
house among wealthy people in Chicago,
telling them that a Count Eugene
Radelzkey, a wonderful pianist, but too
aristocratic to perform before an ordinary
audience, would give an entertainment
' the - conditions that it J1 should not v be '“
. ou that
advertised in the newspapers and
admission should only be granted to
• carefullv chosen persons. In this way
*bout 500 tickets were sold at $1.50 each.
Carriage after carriage rolled up to tha
| hall on the night of the promised found per
formanoe, but tee doors were
locked, and the janitor said: “I don’t
know nothing about no ooncert. ” The
gentlemanly agent hM not since been
1 seen in that city.