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C .M-kM that we *hrurk©n,
K? v that arr* Hunken, *
Lip* that were never oVrbold ; ’
Only a woman, fomaken ana poor,
Aakliijr an alma at the bronze church-door.
Hark to the orga* ! roll upon roll
The wave* of the manic go over her eoal!
Kilka rattle pant her
Thickt-r and faater;
The gr-at bell cease* It* toll.
Fain would sh© enter, but not for the poor
Swingeth wide open the bronze church-door
Only a woman—waiting alon#*,
Icily cold on an lce-cbid luroue.
What do they care, for her ?
Mumbling a prayer for her,
Giving not bread but a atone,
rnd-r old lacen their haughty bearta beat.
Mocking the week of their kin In the atreet.
Only a woman ! In the old daya
Hope , arroled to her her happieat lay* ;
Homebody mlnsed her,
- jc< body klKHcd her.
Somebody crowned her with pralae;
i .in ; ,dy fac'd up the ba*tlea of life
r her sake who wa mother, or wife,
c m : and v ii•'h wRh a t.r/M* of her hair
k Lift i. 'i heart wher<* tl.e float h-K bad own are;
,s rn l >dy wait* for her,
Opening the gate- f>r her,
d'-llgf.- for delalr.
■h woman—uverni ire poor—
IPg*. -s i
£ : Mf tut mfnuy tower.
WM\ ; pi;.'! ...I li.vc come hero,”
Hi Marquis ili J > it.-jiio t'. tl,<•
HHng kui'/M, <1 is ton .I.- i’otitailie, as
■L.U till; terrac'd of Boltono
‘Jkv.i glad >u liiiv* sunn.
Brosßibowel anil a flush of pleamiro
Brkhcil across hia brow.
W “The robbers above here aro very
boi'i iow. They attacked you, I
bd •
“ <-e of the villains ventured to do
so : i wont them away with more than
they xpictecl.”
“ A steel ransom. ITa ! FTa !”
“ It is very strange that you are not
able to discover their retreat.’’
“Very—very strange. My men have
sought in every direction.’’
“The country is favorable to secresy,”
said Gaston, looking round.
it spread far away around the castle.
From the height upon which lioilono
stood, the wide plain and the surround
ing hills could be distinguished for a
great distance. Hills and crags were
near the castle, gullies and paths formed
by torrents lay among them. A river
flowed through the plain, turbulent and
noisy.”
“ Yes, it is a good place for them,”
said the marquis, in reply to Gaston’s
exclamation,
“ But yet I wonder at their hardi
hood.”
“ They rob almost every friend who
comes to visit me, unless I send my
soldiers to guard them,” said Boltono,
bitterly.
“ This should ho stopped. I wonder
that they do not show themselves some
where.”
“I have done all that man can do.
Lot us forsake this subject for the pres
ent. Bee yon yon tower?”
“ Yes. It is older than tho rest of
your on: tie, is it not? I have been
much interested in it.”
“It it; very old and is of Roman con
struction. We never use it.”
“ Never ! Why not?”
“ ’Tis haunted,”
“ Haunted?" Gaston was surprised
at tho seriousness of tho marquis, and
out of res|>eet to him he suppressed a
rising smile of contempt.
“ Yes. It has for many years gone
by the name of ‘the Goblin Tower.’”
“ Why so ? ”
“ Because there aie sights to bo seen
thote, and sounds to be heard, which
are not of this world. Shrieks are
heard at the dead of night, and lights
gleam from the turrets. All the peas
antry tremble, and the hoarts of all
within the castle quake with fear.”
“ But have you never entered to see
the cause of tlmse things ? ”
“ God forbid that I should seek to
know aught of the doings of the pow
ers of darkness! ’
“They may be done by hands of
niau, noble marquis.”
“impossible! Who would dare?”
“No great obstacle could prevent
them if no one ever ventured there ”
“ Men have gone there and never re
turned. In the life of my grandfather
there was a legend about it, and a say
ing than whenever the castle was freed
from the goblin within, there would be
no more robbers without.”
“What! have the robbers always
been here ? ”
“ \1! the time that the tower was
haunted. ”
Gaston, was silent, and mused for a
time.
“ I will tell the story,” said the mar
quis, “it is not long. This tower was
built, as I liavo raid, by the ancient
Romans, and has been in tho posses
sion of many a baron. Ouoe, about
two hundred years ago, onr family
lived in Florence, and a baron who was
related to ns resided here. He was a
strange man, of dark thoughts and
gloomy'aspeot. That tower he made
bis " , si “.*mo9. At uight lights gleamed
from it, und strange sounds were heard
sounds in tiie world. By
Btaa
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I ■was not so much awed by the
marquis.
did well—these suitor*, and
■ do the same for a similar
mat! would yon venture there?”
oble sir, you have promised to
m eme your son-in-law,” said Gaston,
with his ingenious countenance covered
by a flush of pleasure and confusion,
“but I have done nothing to win the
lovely Alvira. Buffer me to win hbt in
this way.”
“What!” cried the marquis.
“ I am willing to enter that tower.”
“ No, no ; you are rash. This is not
bravery, it is rashness. You have done
enough, my dear Gaston, to win a dozen
Alviras.”
“Bat let me also do this. Noble
marquis, I cannot - must not be refused.
Why need I fear? Are not friends all
around me?”
“ Your friends cannot preserve you
from the demons.”
“ Demons ! I fear them not. With
my trust in God and the holy samts,
how can the evil one injure me?”
“ I implore you not to think of this.”
“ No, no, permit me. Do not tell
Alvira. Promise me not to tell her. I
will free your house of demonsand rob
bers or die.”
The marquis gave a reluctant con
sent.
It was mid day, and Gaston walked
outside the castie. There was a deep
gorge in the hills behind, and the Ro
man tower rose above this, while the
other parts of the extensive c,astle lay
further from it. Gaston walked to the
verge and looked down. The porter
had told him not to venture there —that
the people in the castle were afraid of
the goblins who dwell there. But Gas
ton despised the idle tale.
“ Goblins—ha Iha ! What a strange
mind the marquis must have not to see
that these mysterious robbers are the
goblins and the makers of all this riot.
But I must descend and examine here.”
He went down slowly and softly
among the bushes which grew thickly
enough to hide him from view. At
length he was suprised to see a beaten
path,
“Ha!” he cried, “this was never
made by goblins. I will follow and see
where it leads.”
He descended carefully, and watched
the path to see that none were viewing
him. At last he was at the bottom of
the chasm. The path before him took
a sudden turn around a rock. Leaning
stealthly over this, ho looked forward.
There was the base of the goblin tower,
which arose very far on high, from its
foundations at the bottom of the chasm.
There was a small aperture here, so hid
den by bushes that none but the sharp
est and most observant eye could have
detected it. Ho went nearer, and hear
ing nothing, he crawled close to it.
Looking in ho saw steps which led up.
“ Now were this unused, the steps
wonld be covered with grass and mould,
but they are smooth and are used often.”
After a few minutes the young knight
departed by the same path, and soon
stood in safety upon the top of the
declivity, well satisfied with his expe
dition.
“ Well, Gaston,” said the marquis,
at night, “are you still determined?”
“ I am, I ask only my arms. Gan I
have the way shown me ?”
“ Once more, Gaston, let mo'implore
you not to go.”
“I must go, noble marquis, for I
have said it.”
“ Retract your words.”
“ I cannot —I would not.”
“Then I must part with you. I fear
I shall never see you again. I will ac
company you to the place.”
The two walked along a desolate hall
extending entirely through the castle.
The night was dark and the wind moan
ed as they went ou. Doors banged and
noises we’re heard through the house.
“ Those noises do not come from the
tower. They are made by the wind !
said Gaston.
“ Ah ! here wo are I suppose.”
They paused before a massive oaken
door, which the marquis opened after
unlocking. The bolts sounded harsh
as they grate ! baok. They entered the
room. The light which the marquis
held was feeble, and illuminated it but
in part. The apartment was large, and
the walls were wainsooted with oak,
carved in the antique. Chairs of olden
form stood aro and, and a long table of
massive construction stood iu the mid
dle.
“ I will go into yo..r closet and watch
the room. I can be hidden there.”
“Do so. Do not expose yourself.
Do you want the light ?”
“ No—Oh ! no. I will be better in the
dark.”
He opened the door of au old closet.
It was empty. There was an opening
in it, through which any one within
oonld look out iuto the room. Here
Gaston entered. The marquis departed,
locking the door carefully. Gaston
drew his sword, and, holding it in his
hand, prepared to watob.
An old chair stood here in one oorner;
upon this he seated himself and waited.
The hours passed tediously away, yet
he sat in patient silence listening to
every sound. Aud these were of many
kind's, which came to his sharpened
wire. Low moanings sounded without,
the doors, loosened by uro, rattled on
their hinges, the heavy, dusty drapery
shook and fluttered.
There was a faint light in the room.
As Gaston looked through, there seemed
to come a brighter light. He was sure
of it. A strange thrill shot through
him as the room began to grow visible,
illuminated by some unseen power.
Footsteps—low, muffled footsteps,
sounded without—beneath, whisperings
and exclamations were heard by his ox
cited earv. Ills heart beat quick—he
hold his sword more firmly.
“ The hour is coming—the time—the
soeue is at hand. Now shall we see
whether Gaston de Pontaille will die.”
He leaned forward more earnestly.
At the extremity of the n ad he heard
whisperings murmuriugs —footsteps,
but he could not look there. The light
grew brighter. Some form approached.
Gaston looked out.
It was a tall figtir' dreared in black,
and through two holes iu the wall which
covered its head, the eves gleamed with
intense brightness. He came to the
table and sat down. It was dressed in
the same manner. Two others came
in, and the four sat down at the table.
Lj“Wiue,” said th< tl st. m a deep
Ip! and >B, . in
Id very much
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One arose and brought a number of
bottles. Then each one, lifting his
vail, drank in silence. Gaston watched
in suspense.
“Comrades,” said the first one, “the
bishop has much gold. To morrow the
| marquis shall give more.”
A low murmur of applause went
! round.
“ He would have been unmolested
! had he refrained from molesting us.”
“Ha! ha!” said another, in a dis
! cordant voice. “He not of
| “The Golden Tower.”
‘ 1 What will he not pay for her ran
som ?” t
Gaston started. •*
! “And the young knight—would he
I not give his toul to purchase her ?”
“Margo,” said the leader, “bring!
her along.”
Margo departed, and the others be- 1
gan to divest themselves of their man
tles. E;ch one, taking off his black j
robe, disclosed the well-armed figure of |
a sturdy soldier.
“1 heard footsteps here this night,” |
said one. “May there not be a true j
| goblin—”
“Fool !” cried the leader, savagely, i
“You are a novice. A goblin! We
are the got)! ins of the tower, Anlonio. j
Ha ! What breath is that ?”
“ I said so !” cried the other.
The three started at a rattling sound- 1
ed in the room. They looked at each ;
other and turned pale. The entrance
of their comrade put an end to their
terror.
“ Bring her along,” cried the leader.
! Gaston could see nothing, but he j
heard a low moan as though! from a fe
male, and the tone struck a chill to his !
inmost soul.
“Good e’en, my pretty maid,” said
the leader. “Bring her nearer, good |
Margo, let her be seated.”
There was a slight struggle and Mar
go brought forward the prisoner,
j Gaston started—his frame shook in fren-
I zied rsge. It was Alvira! He re
strained himself.
“Who are yon, and why dare yea thus
treat the daughter of Boltono?”
“Because we love the smiles of
lovely women. Was it not rash in you
to walk alone on the terrac* at such a
time ? Could we—the goblins of the
tower—resist the temptation !”
“ What will you do with me ?”
“You shall cheer us in our lonely
tower.”
“O, God!” she cried, wringing her j
hands in agony.
“No lamentation !” cried the leader.
“Come, we wish you to be gay ; cheer
up.”
Alvira wept in despair.
“Weep not! Why shoa'id yon?
Come, let me have a kiss!”
He rose up and reached out his hand.
Alvira shrunk back. He stepped for
ward. The others looked on in hideous
glee—they saw n*t the armed figure
with uplifted sword.
“ Come, one kiss—”
“ Villain !” cried Gasten, in a voice
of thunder. Alvira saw him—all saw
him, as with a bound he sprang forward
and buried his sword in the robber
chieftain’s heart.
“ Die !” cried the infuriated knight,
and turning upon the nearest, with a
blow lie severed his head from his body, j
The others rose and grasped their dag- j
gers. Gaston struck at the nearest aDd j
his weapon was dashed from his hand,
while the owner was dashed, to the
ground. Margo, the fourth,B*lr' upon
bis knees. With a strong hand Gaston
bound him, and taking his rescued love
in his arms, he bore her forth along the
hall, to the great hall of the castle.
The noise had ronsed the marquis, and
the inmates of Boltono soon knew all
that had happened.
A week after, the nuptials of Gaston
j and Alvira were celebrated, and the
j body of Margo hung iu chains from t,ne
| summit of the “Goblin Tower.”
A Blot for a Playwright.
We remember a tradition of the
Mac-a-Cheek valley that would be well
ito commence with. After the fight,
i and destruction of the Indian towns in
that locality, one of the volunteers,
| wandering in tho woods, saw the head of
an Indian peering a. him from behind
I rock, and without a whereas of any
I length and a resolution quite as brief,
brought his gun to his shoulder and
! tired a shot that tumbled over the iu
j quisitive aboriginal. To the hunter’s
i horror he found the victim of the fe
male sex, with a papoose strapped to
! her back. He removed the babe, and
jhe and his companion buried the
j mother. He carried the infant over a
j hundred miles to his log cabin, on the
| banks of the Ohio, and adopted the
j boy. He grew to manhood, a shy, wild
| fellow, with no taste for civilized pnr
! suits, and a love for the woods.
The situation was not pleasant, for
| the youthful Lo was expected to work
j for his living, and the labor was of the
I hardest. To make matters worse, he
! had the misfortune to fall in love with
j his patron’s daughter, a beautiful girl
with no end of suitors, and as an In
| dian in those days was regarded as a
j little better than a negro now, his love
making did not prosper. His love was
I soon {.lighted to another, and as the
wedding day drew near the young In
dian disappeared. The marriage came
off with its usnal metry-making, that
consisted of rifle shooting, races, aud
wrestling during the day, and dancing
and drinking at nigLt.
The married couple had retired to
the bridal-chamber, that made one end
of the double log cabin, and the merry
making continued all night. The next
morning the two so lately united for
! life were called to breakfast. They did ;
not respond, for the very g,.od reason j
that both were dead, being found nmr- ;
dered on their bridal coueb.
All knew who the avenger was : but j
! to leave no doubt upon that head a |
wampum beY, worked by the poor girl i
years before, was found npon the floor j
at her feet. But he was never heard of
after. He seemed to vanish into uight I
and memory. The poor father, reeog- ;
r.iziug the hand of retribution, took to
drink, and was returned to congress.
He is remembered as a mrmber of the
committee of ways and means, aud
acsnmnlated quite a propeity out of
j subsidies aud Indian contracts. He is
spoken of to this day by an aged, red- I
nosed, life insurance agent as that
“ bloody old Brown who was a Jackson ;
man with a bad breath and a worse j
; temper.”— Washington Capital.
The Sad Story of a Life.
The Unfortunate Wife of Haximilian
Once huip- ror of Mexico,
The Belgian papers announce that
the death of the uotappy Carlotte, the
wife of Maximilian, once emperor of
Mexico, is daily exjiected. During the
last years of her eventful life the som
ber darkness of mental night has rested
upon her, and even the consolation of
forgetting in insanity her misfortunes
has been denied her. The light of this
world’s pleasures, though not the gloom
of its pains, long since went out for
her, and that she should not follow her
brave and unfortunate husband to the
grave may be regarded as the only hap
piness which the future had in btorefor
her, and as'a grateful relief to the royal
l hearts who have watched over her deso
j late years with constant and loving ten
! derness. The daughter of Leopold 1.,
! of Belgium, the wisest and shrewdest
; sovereign of his time, blessed with
j beauty and a superior mind, graced with
| the accomplishments of courts and the
1 polish of letters, it was Carlotta’s des
tiny to be united at a very early age to
1 the most amiable and able of the Aus
trian archdukes. Maximilian was dis
tinguished for his virtues, his courage,
his courtly bearwg and the liberal tone
of his thoughts and feelings. At the
time of the marriage no more brilliant
prospect than the luxurious life of an
emperor’s brother and sister opened be
fore them. Maximilian thought of no
loftier destiny that) to form one of the
princely galaxy around Francis Joseph’s
throne, to govern a Slavic or Croat prov
ince, perhaps lend his sword to the glory
of Austria, or to spend happy summer
months with his lovely bride at his cas
tie of Miramar, on the Adriatic. No
graver danger than that of a European
war or local insurrection threatened
to interrupt a tranquil aGd contented
life.
Tne ambitions projects of Napoleon
suddenly intruded upon the even tenor
of this calm existence. The conquest
of Mexico by Bazaine and the necessity
of finding a wearer of royal blood for
the new imperial crown, caused Louis
to cast his eyes over Europe for the
available candidate, and he fixed npon
Maximilian as the prince be&t fitted for
his purpose. The Archduchess Sophia
urged him to decline the bauble. Car
lotta, with ali toe enthusiasm of youth
aud ambition, begged him to accept it.
To her Maximilian unfortunately
yielded; he went to Mexico, accom
panied by his dauntless and exulting
wife, and bravely nerved himself to
meet the perils of his new position.
These perils were not fanciful; the long
conflict between the virtually usurping
emperor and the persistent Juarez is
well known. Ils tragic termination, in
which the gallant Austrian went calmly
to the fate of Charles of England and
Louis of France is one of the most
thrilling episodes in history. Carlotta
stood staunchly by her husband from
first to last. When his cause waned
and bid ere long to be desperate, this
heroic woman hastened to Europe, fell
at Napoleon’s feet, and begged him to
go to the rescue. Stung by the refusal
of the one who had lured Maximilian
across the ocean, the unfortunate
princess broke into wild imprecations.
From St. Cloud she hastened to Rome,
only to learn at the Vatican that it was
hopeless. Desperate with disappoint
ment, Carlotta wandered over Europe,
pleading with Francis Joseph at Vi
enna, mourning with her brother in
Brussels. Tnen the bright though
weary intellect began to fade. She
sank into alternate idiocy and madness;
and while in this diseased fancy she
was fighting the battle over and over
again in the quiet retirement of
Lacken. Maximilian was shot at Quer
etaro.
A ?omnaml)iilist Pilot.
I oaxing a Steamboat Tin a Crooked
Pitas In tlte Dark.
BY MARK TWAIN.
There used to be an excellent pilot
on the river, a Mr. X., who was a som
nambulist. It was said that, if his
mmd was troubled about a bad p.ece of
river, he was pretty pure to get up and
walk iu his sleep and do strange tilings.
He was once fellow pilot for a trip or
two with George E , cn a great New
Orleans passenger packet. Late one
night the boat was approaching Heleua,
Ark., the water was low, and the cross
ing above the to*a in a very blind and
tangled condition. X. had seen the
crossing Since E had, and, as the
night was particularly drizzly, sullen
and dark, E was cousideringwliether
he had not better have X. called to as
sist in running the place, when the door
opened and X. walked in.
“Let me take her, Mr. E ; I’ve
seen this place since yon have, and it is
so crooked that I reckon I can ran it my
self, easier than I could tell you how to
do it.”
“ It is kind of yon, and I swear I am
willing. I haven’t got another drop of
perspiration left iu me. I have been
spinning around the wheel like a squir
rel. It is so dark I can’t tell which
way she is swinging till she is comign
around like a whirligig.”
So E took a seat on the bench,
panting and breathless. X assumed
the wheel without saying anything,
steadied the waltz mg steamer with a
turn or two, and then stood at ease,
coaxing her a little to this side and then
to that, as gently and as sweetly as if
the time had been noonday. When E
observed the marvel of steering.
he wished he had not confessed. He
stared and wondered, and finally said ;
“Well, I thought I knew how to steer
a steamboat, but that was another mis
take of mine.”
X. said nothing, but went sei enely on
with his work. He rang for leads ; he
rang to slow down the steam; he worked
the boat carefully and neatly into invis
ible marks, th n stood at the centre of
the wheel and peered out blandly into
the blackness, fore and aft, to verify
his position; as the leads shoaled more
and more, he stopped the engines en
tirely, atui the dead silence and suspense
of “ drifting” followed; when theshoal
est water was struck he cracked on the
steam, carried her handsomely over,
and then began to work her warily into
the next system of shoal marks ; the
saire patient, heedful nse of leads and
engines followed; the boat slipped
through without touching bottom, aud
entered upon the third and last intri
cacy of the crossing; imperceptibly she
moved through the gloom, crept by
inches in'o her marks, drifted tediously
till the shoalest water was cried, and
then, under a tremendous head of steam,
went swinging over the reef and away
into deep water and safety !
E let his long pent’ breath pour
out in a long, relieving sigh, and said :
“ That s the sweetest piece of pilot
ing that was ever done on the Missis
sippi river ! I wouldn’t have believed
it oould be done, if I hadn’t seen it. ”
There was no reply, aid he added:
“Just hold her five minutes loDger,
partner, and let me run down and get a
cup of coffee.”
A minute later E—— was biting
into a pie down in the “ texas,” and
comforting himself with coffee. Just
then the night watchman happened in,
and was about to happen out again,
when he noticed E , and exclaimed :
“ Who is at the wheel, sir ? ”
“X .’’
“ Dart for the pilot-house quicker
than lightning.
The next moment both men were
flying up the pilot house companion
way three steps at a jump ! Nobody
there ! The great steamer was whis
tling down the middle of the river at a
her own sweet will! The watchman
shot out of the place agaiD. E
seized the wheel, set an engine back
with power, and held his breath while
the boat reluctantly swung away from a
“tow-head” which he was about to
knock into the middle of the Gnlf of
Mexico !
“ By and by the watchman came back
and said:
'‘‘Didn’t that lunatic tell you he was
asleep when he first came uo here ? ”
“No.”
“ Well, he was. I found him walk
ing along on the top of the railings,
just as unconcerned as another man
would walk a pavement; and 1 put him
to bed. Now just this minute there he
was away astern, going through that
sort of tight-repe deviltry the same as
before.”
“Well, I think I’ll stay by, next time
he has one of those fits. But I hope
he’ll have them often. You just ought
to have seen him take the boat through
Helena crossing. I never saw anything
so gaudy before. And if he can do
such gold-leaf, kid-glove, diamond
breast pin piloting when he is sonnd
asleep, what couldn’t he do if lie was
dead ? ”
The Grasses.
Dr. Bachelder, of Central New York,
talks thus of the different grasses with
which he has been experimenting:
Perennial rye-grass he considers of no
value for hay or pasture, as it will not
endure the winters, but Italian rye
grass, he says, is hardly anywhere in
New York, and is one of the most val
uable grasses known, either to cut for
soiling or for hay. In vigor it is like
orchard-grass, but is finer in texture,
and is of the “cut and come again”
kind, often producing two crops of hay
in a season, and then a rich aftermath.
Meadow fescue he finds to be one of
1 the most vigorous, adapted to either
j meadow or pasture. It equals timothy
in the same time. It is a good grass
to grow with timothy. _ Sweet vernal
grass ought to be grown'in the meadow
to give fragrance to the other hay.
Cattle devour it with great eagerness.
Orchard grass alone, or with the medium
clover, is valuable, but then it ripens
too soon for timothy. If cut just be
fore the flower-scape opens, it makes a
valuable hay, but if left till it ripens it
is no better than rye straw. Timothy,
Italian rye grass, meadow fescue, red
top, meadow-oat grass and red clover
ripen well enough to make good hay,
and aro well adapted to the climate,
which is the great consideration. The
proportion he gives of each is as fol
! lows : Timothy, ten pounds ; Italian
rye, five pounds; meadow-oat grass,
| two pounds ; red clover, eight pounds.
For pasture he thinks June and orchard
i grass the best. The doctor thinks the
Alfalfa will prove valuable in the west
and south-west.
Norway.
In its general aspect Norway presents
the most unpromising conformation of
surface for farming operations that can
well be conceived. Mountain ranges,
with plateaus whose altitude precludes
cultivation, and from which rise moun
tains that reach an elevation of eight
thousaad feet above the sea, prevail
generally throughout the country. Ex
cept in the south the mountain-tops are
covered with snow for the greater part,
if not all the year; their slopes, when
not absolutely inaccessible, are far too
rocky and abrupt for farming settle
ments. The dr eper valleys that inter
sect these mountain ranges# and which
ramify with the contortions of the hills,
are channels up which the sea sends its
tides; above the level of these fjords
are other water-worn valleys, which
convey the overflow of the mountain
lakes, subsided by countless streams
that in varying volume leap from the
hills as waterfalls, or rnsh foaming
down the mountain side—the impervi
ous primitive or metamorphoric rocks
that are characteristic of the country
not permitting the absorption of the
melting snows or the summer’s rains.
There exists, therefore a very extensive
superficial area that presents physical
as well as climatic difficulties of a char
acter not to be surmoijnted by the most
enterprising cultivators. With few ex
ceptions the h imestead of the Norsk
farmer is built on the lower slopes of
the hills, where, in fact, the wash of
tbe rocky surfaces, in broken stone aDd
siltv soil, has accumulated to a suffi
cient depth for the operation of the
plow; or on the embanked levels of
loamy soil, the deposits left by ancient
rivers, cr when rich lacustrine alluvium
is met with or where moraines are
spread out at the embouchure of gla
cier grooved and expansive valleys,
firming suitable sites of scattered ham
lets and little farms.
At Green Bay, Wis., winter "still
lingers in the lap of spring, but the
people don’t mind it, because they have
the garment known as the sawdnstelio.
One who has seen .this useful invention
says of it: “ This covering, which em
braces a coat and breeches all in one,
and is donned by both sexes, is made
out of two thicknesses of blankets, i
tilled in between with sawdust. Hay
or straw can be used for the stuffing.
The outfit looks a little elephantine to j
a stranger, bnt the people of Green Bay j
'on’t mind the appearance so long asit ,
is so oomfortable.”
The Governor and the Grizzly.
A correspondent of the San Franciico
Alta writes as follows of the new gov
ernor of California :
Governor Pacheco has, among his ac
complishments—and they are many
one possessed, we believe, by no other
governor in the United States. He can
lasso and get away with a wild grizzly
bear, and we saw him do it in May,
1852, on the Rancho de los Osos (Bear
Ranch), in San I uis Obispo, then the
residence of Governor Pacheco’s mother.
Away up in the mountains, among the
wild oats, the grizzlies take their morn
ing naps, after their nightly prowling
about in search of any stray calf, pig,
or other small game. Early one morn
ing the enormous print of a grizzly’s
foot was seen in the ear-h, close by the
dwelling of the governor’s mother, and
in a few minutes Romnaldo and two or
three others were in the saddle and off
for the mountains. When the tall, wild
oats, half-way up the mountain, were
reached, the party had not ridden more
than two minutes among the tall, dry
wisps, when the horses suddenly started,
snorting loudly, and instantly a huge
grizzly stood erect, with a terrific pres
ence, high above the dry wild oats. He
looked just like a gigantic negro, with
shaggy, fur overcoat, his eyes gleaming
fiercely, his cruel teeth and red mouth
unpleasantly conspicuous. Each man
and every horse for the instant seemed
petrified—as if, while every nerve and
every muscle and eveiy sense was at
its utmost tension, they had suddenly
looked upon the Medusa. Ia a sec
ond’s time Pacheco spurred forward,
swinging his lasso. The bear com
menced sparring warily, and few pro
fessional boxers can fend off as these
creatures will. But Pacheco’s lasso
shot like an arrow and clasped about the
huge fore-foot, when the horse (who
saw every movement, and was as wide
awake as Pacheco) sprang the other
way, and, the lasso being fast to the
pommel, the bear was instantly thrown
to the ground, when two oth- r men,
quick as lightning, had thrown their
lassos and caught the hind feet; then
another rider caught the loose fore
foot, and the four horses took their
positions like cavalry animals trained
by some noiseless signal, and slowly
marched down the mountain’s side, two
horses in the van and two in the rear,
dragging Ursa Major quietly down the
grassy descent, the rear horse3 keeping
just taut line enough to prevent the
bear from getting any use of his terri
ble hind claws. Nabl has painted some
of these California lassoing scenes that
; have been as near justice to such excit
ing tableaux as could be done by the
painter’s art, but nothing could portray
the intensity of excitement and action
brought forth at such a moment. Pach
eco was, at that time, twenty-one years
old, and the handsomest man we ever
looked upon.
I guess the panther in the wilderness
was net more fair than he.
When he first realized the sudden
presence of the terrible enemy and
stood erect in his stirrops, his face
gleaming with the glory of youth, fear
lessness, and excitement—his great
black eyes sparkling, his white teeth
tightly pressed upon his nether lips,
perfectly still for a second, he was the
most glorious object in nature. In no
longer time than the sight of this could
be just taken in he sprang forward, his
long, dark hair tossed wildly for a mo
ment, and then he had captured the
bear, as related.
The captors slowly took their prisoner
down to the house, where a long, he avy
piece of timber lay upon the grass.
Fastening the bear’s hind-feet to the
timber with the strong lasso, and the
fore-feet to a strong, deep-driven stake,
they stepped away to a respectful dis
tance, their eyes upon the ferocious
creature and their hands upon their
saddle-pommels. Wo walked up close
to the bear to take a careful look at
him. All cried out “ Cuiado 1” “ Take
care.”
“ Why, he’s all secure,” we said.
“ Yes, but look out,”
“ You don’t think he could get loose?”
“ Perhaps not, but you’d better keep
away 1”
And we did.
The bear lay with his head between
his huge paws, covering his eyes, save
occasionally when he could furtively
lift his eyes, like a sulky child, to look
at his captors ; then covering his eyes
again, remain a moment and steal an
other look. Soon he gave heavy sighs,
aud someone said, “He is dying.”
We expressed surprise to learn that
the bear was wounded.
“He is not wounded,” they replied,
“but his heart breaks—he dies of
rage.” And in a few moments he had
breathed hi last, and was dragged
awav some distance from the house and
left,
Pacheco pointed to the sky. We
looked and saw a hundred carrion
.'rows, whose watchful eyes had seen
the feast long before it was halfway
down the mountain side ; and before
we were a hundred yards from the dead
bear its body was completely hidden by
the sable, flapping wings of the hungry
undertakers.
Beef Fillets with Vegetables,—
Cut some rump steak in slices halt an
inch thick, trim them all to the tame
size is the shape of cruets, acd lard
them finely and thickly witn fat bacon;
lay them out the larded side uppermost
into a baking-dish, and put in as moch
rich stock of gravy as will come up to,
but not cover, the larding; cover
the dish, and place it in the oven to
braise gently for half an hour, then
remove the cover, baste the fillets with
the gravy, and let them remain uncov
ered in the oven for the larding to take
color. Take equal quantities cf car
rots and turnips, cut them into the
shape of small olives, parboil them,
then toss them in butler separately un
til done. Melt a piece of bn’ter in a
saucepan, add a little fionr, mix well,
and put in as much of the gravy in
which the fillets have braised as will
make enough sauce ; stir weil, add the
vegetables and when quite hot ar
range them, and serve.
Heke is an instance of Scotch thrift:
A man sent to jail for larceny was per
mitted to write to his wife, and this is
what he wrote: “Dear wife—if they
keep me iu the gaol, make them put
you in the poor-house.”