Decatur Democrat, Volume 26, Number 11, Decatur, Adams County, 16 June 1882 — Page 6

THE DECATUR DEMOCRAT SUPPLEMENT, RY A. J. HILL. I Kri day, June 23, 1882. Night Life of Young Men. Om night often destroys a whole life. the leakage of the night keeps the day etnpty. Night is sin’s harvesting tune. More sin and crime tu'c* committed in one night than in all the days of the week. This is more emphatically true of the city than of the country. The street lamps, like a tile of soldiers, with torch in hand, stretch away in long lines on either side- i walk ; the gay colored transparencies are 1 ablaze with attractions; the saloon and billiard halls are brilliantly illuminated; iniisic sends forth its enchantment; the ] gay company begins to gather to the haunts I and houses'of pleasure; the gambling places are ablaze with palatial splendor; the theatres are wide open; the mills of destruction are grinding health, honor, happiness, hope, out of thousands of lives. The city under the gaslight is not the same as under God’s sunlight. The allurements and perils and pitfalls of night are a hundred fold deeper and darker and more destructive. Night life in our cities is a dark problem, whose depths and abysses make us start back with horror. . All night tears are falling, blood is streaming. Young men, tell me how and where you spend your evenings, and I w ill write out the chart of your character and final destiny, with blanks to insert your names. It seems to me an appropriate text would he, ‘‘Watchman, what of the night?” Policeman. pacing the beat, what of the night ? What are the voting men of the city doing at night? Where do they spend their evenings? Who are their associates? What are their habits ? Where do they go in, and what time do they come out? Policeman, would the night life of young men commend them to the confidence of their employers? Would it be to their credit ? Make a record of the nights of one week. Put in the morning papers the names of all the young men, their habits and haunts, that are on the streets for sinful pleasure. Would there not be shame and confusion ? Some would not dare to go to their places of business, some would not return home at night, some would leave the city, some would commit suicide. Remember, young men, that in the retina of the All-seing eye there is nothing hid but shall be revealed on the last day. Eminent Shoemakers. Perhaps it was Coleridge who first remarked upon the great number of shoemakers that have become eminent in various walks of life ; and certain it is that magazines and newspapers have found in men who sprang from this employment to higher things many subjects for interesting sketches, obituary notices and special articles. There was a man some year ago in Portland —probably a shoemaker, but at all events too modest to give his name —who published a book which he called “Eminent Shoemakers,” and the news that John Mackintosh, a shoemaker of Aberdeen, has written two volumes of a “History of Civilization in Scotland" will give interest to some of the celebrated names which the Portland shoemaker succeeded in bringing together. William Gilford, the founder, and long the editor,pf the London Quarterly Jiciiew, and than whom probably no shoemaker ever had “one sutor” thrown at him more often or with better effect, toiled, we are informed, six long years at the trade which he said himself he “hated with a perfect hatred.” George Fox, whom, by the way, Carlyle has celebrated as one of the noblest men in England, “making himself a suit of leather,” divided his time between making shoes and caring for sheep until he began to preach those sermons of his, and to do that Christian work which finally gave unto the world the first organization of the Society of Quakers. Robert Bloomfield, the poet, made shoes, and of him it was once said that he was the most “spiritual shoemaker that ever handled an awl.” Haus Sachs, the friend of Luther, who wrote five folio volumes in verse that are printed, and five others that are not, was a most diligent maker of shoes in quaint old Nuremberg, and, for all he wrote, never made a shoe the less, he said, and virtually reared a large family by the labor of his hands, independent of his poetry. Among others, this author mentions no less a name than Noah Worcester; Roger Sherman, too, is on the list, and Thomas Holcroft. Others might Ire—Henry Wilson one of them. Indeed, it should not be forgotten that the father of John Adams, our second President and the father of our sixth, made many a shoe in his day during the leisure which his farm life gave him.

Will Out the Blanks. To lose by one’s own ignorance or carelessness is mors mortifying than to lose by another’s dishonesty. It is certainly aggravating enough to lose by both. To illustrate how little the law will help a person who does not know how to do business, and to show the importance of small details, a New York Journal cites an actual case: ‘'A man drew a note promising to pay one hundred dollars. He used a printed form, and did not close up the blank devoted to dollars, and after passing it as negotiable paper, somebody inserted‘and fifty’ after the one hundred, and before the printed dollars. The note, thus altered, got into the hands of an innocent party, who presented it to the drawer, and the Supreme Court decided the maker of the note was liable for its face, because through negligence he did not draw a line between the word ‘hundred,’ and the printed word ‘dollars.’ Any testimony that the drawer might offer to establish the fact that he gave the note for one hundred dollars, must go for nothing, aa there was nothing on the face of the note showing that it had been altered. Evidence of any alteration on the face of the note, would have changed the case. Let this l>e a lesson to all drawers of promissory notes. No . one can be too careful in such matters.” How to Succeed. The first requisite to success is not to undertake an unwise and impracticable thing. For this reasorv the advice often inculcated by wise and great men has been to give much time and reflection to the formation of plans. Be slow to decide; but, having resolved, lie prompt to act. It is not sufficient, by any means, to be prompt in beginning to act. This is easy to every one. It is the continued, persevering, unflagging activity which, alone, accomplishes great results. ■ The temptations which beset one's steps at every stage to deliver his attention from the main pursuit he has fixed on are almost innumerable, and to the irresolute and weak they are found irresistible. This accounts for numerous failures. If a man has not attained to what he started for it will almost always be found that he has been attending to something else. The song of the bird by the wayside feh upon his ear and charmed his eye, and he lingered when his pace should have been onward end firm and quick. If you would insure success in your undertaking, whatever it may be, let nothing divert your attention from it Leave nothing undone, no matter how seemingly little and unimportant it may be, which is calculated to promote its accomplishment. There is no ether way to make success certain. It is not luck. ’ It depends on doing. doing, DOING. Yet simple as the lesson of success is—few as are its requisites—there is uothing that people are slower to learn

The Weaker Sox. Au English paper, whose editor is uni doubtedly a married man, contains the fol- | lowing essay on women: “I believe there is more pepper, mon : saltpeter, more tartar, more aqua fortis, and more pluck in woman nature than any other nature extant. AU these, however, lie dormant in a thin sack, woven of modesty, timidity, coyness and gentleness. Once shake them up and you may look out for a blaze, accompanied by a peculiar kind of thunder. Woman flesh is thought by some to be a confection, a composition of sugar and molasses, or some other saccharine ma t ter. Grant that it is all sweetness; yet I would have you know that when the acid of anger, insult, or ill-nature comes in contact with it, such an effervescence occurs as one never saw exemplified in ginger pop. seidlitz powders or soda water. Women, when put out of tune, are line I summer storms. At first they are cloudy —make no noise, but their thinking mai chines are busy in motion. Then comes I the thunder—ripping, tearing thunder! and 1 the lightning that flashes from their eyes is enough to appal the stoutest of hearts. You fall back in wonderment, if not perfectly amazed. Unwilling to retreat further ; and not having a chance or the courage to slip in a pitiful “boo! vou stand and take it like a hitched horse in a hail stonn. When the wrath of the feminine has nearly expired, you pluck up courage and are down on her with argument, reasoning and reprimand; but is all this going to make her turn tail ? Not a bit of it. Having wasted her thunder and lightning, she begins to rain ; she knows what eflect that will have. With impetuous showers she drenches the furious lire that burns in your ■ bosom, and adds a freshness to every buci and blossom of feeling. Then you begin to give in—she begins to clear oil—her sky grows brighter, she goes to the Cipen.se of a smile, her whole horizon, landscape and lady scope, look charm ing, gay, and serene, and you can t help giving her a kiss, and acknowledging beat. So you see, my friends, that the women are bound to get the better of us. In them you behold the wild cat, the lamb, and dove. If they can accomplish nothing by letting loose their untamed feline propensities, they give the juvenile sheep a trial; and if that fails they try the loving dove. With one or the other they are sure to effect their purpose. They are called the weaker sex; but with what propriety it is hard for me to imagine, for I know that many of them arc strong enough to lift a barrel of beer ami drink ont of the tap. They can draw like horses. They draw us to church —draw us to the theatre —draw us from our business —draw us into trouble —draw us to well, anywhere. How Ghosts Arc Made. SOME STAGE ILLUSIONS WHICH ABE SHOWN TO BE VERY SIjIPLE, AFTER ALL. A reporter for the New York Star has investigated, in the workshop of Mr. Desmond, the maker, the method adopted to produce the illusion known as “The Ghost Show,” which is to be seen in the various museums in that city. In this illusion the spectator sees on the stage a human figure which talks and moves, but which can appear and disappear with startling rapidity. The deception is accomplished by the following means: The stage is set in the ordinary manner, with the exception of a large plate of glass, which is placed near the front at an angle of forty-five degrees, the top toward the audience. Os course the glass is invisible to the spectator. In front of the glass is a trap cut in the stage, just the length of the plate, and this trap is always open during the performance. At the top of the glass two large square iron lanterns, with the sides at a level, are placed, arranged so as to throw the light on the surface of the plate. Beneath the stage is a small square room, resembling a large dry goods Ik>x, about four feet high, whose entire interior is covered with black velvet. Raised about four inches from the bottom is a small stage, around which are arranged gas-lights about three feet above it. These lights are all under the control of one person, who stands at the prompter’s box. When the illusion or “ghost” is wanted, a single movement turns down the headlight, thus giving the lights below the stage a chauee to be thrown upon the performer, whose image is reflected on the surface of the plate glass. To make the “ghost” disappear he has simply to turn a thumb stopcock and the light from above falls over the glass and effaces the image. The performer or “ghost” enters the apartment under the stage, and reclines at full length upon the raised stage in the center with his head toward the audience and slightly raised. When it is necessary to produce the illusion the operator simply turns the stop cock, thus reducing the volume of light at the top, and the figure appears to stand upon the stage, in plain sight of the audience, but is in reality only the image reflected on the plate glass.

MR. CHALKER’S RUSE. BY FRANK H. TAYLOB. Every country boy in New England knows that the village school house is generally located at the top of the bleakest hill in the neighborhood, aud is the sport of every eddying gust of wind that drives near, heaping the great drifts across the road and about the door for the children to break through, and then shake themselves free of the clinging snow like so I many New Foundlands. And where, by any chance, was there ever a school house containing a stove that didn’t roast the scholars seated near it, and leave the others to freeze ? All wide-awake boys who know the pleasures of skating will agree with me that however cold and stormy it is upon the hill-tops, the mill-pond (and what does I a village amount to without a mill poud, indeed ?) is always down in the cosiest nook between the hills, where the wind can’t come with more force than is needed to blow the falling flakes across its smooth surface, piling them in great heaps among the bordering willows, and leaving the ice in tempting order for ‘‘shinny.” In fact, upon this, the coldest morning I of the winter the school house upon the hill-top is not to be mentioned or thought of in comparison with mill-ponds for comfort or attractiveness, aud it is hardly surprising that Mr. Chalker, the school-master, walked to aud fro in solitary state, surveying with vexed air an array of vacant desks. He was not altogether alone, however, for three boys had fought bravely through the drifts, and now sat huddled by the red-hot stove, trying to look as though they, at least, didn’t think the weather a good excuse for staying at home to hunt hens’ nests in the depths of the hay mow. Now schoolmaster Clialker was a shrewd observer, and loved a good joke as well as any one. He had adopted many original plans of instruction. He couli see one end of the mill-pond, half a mile away ! from his window, and as he gazed out upon ' the bleak waste of snow-clad fields he saw I a couple of small black figures gilding over its snrface, and a trace of a smile shone among his wrinkles as an idea seem ed to strike him. Strengthening the Voice.—For putting the voice in good order for singing or speaking, the following recipes have beer. I giver.: A teaspoonful of compound tincture of I cinnamon beaten up with a raw egg. A raw egg beaten up with a large- cup of : black tea and good milk or cream. For troublesome hoarseness, chew a piece of horseradish. For hoarseness arising from over exer- . tion of the voice, dissolve in the mouth a piece of gum catechu about the size of a pea. I To preserve the voice in good order, practice daily without fatiguing the voice, i Over exertion and want of practice are the I chief causes of disorder in the voice. Rest I cures the results of the former, and practice those of the latter.

Telling the Boys. When you get two or three old follows ■ of sixty together, they are fond of telling stones about the pranks they play ed in their youthful days and laughing proudly over their misdeeds. But this is not. always a safe thing to do. Gid Judge Bees indulged in this recreation the othernight, 1 in the presence of his sou, aged fourteen. The old man told a quantity of tricks he : had played upon his father, and chuckled j gleefully over them. It roused young Bees’ I ambition; and the next night, when the | judge went home, he had an awful time I of it. There was a pail of water suspend-j cd over the front door that tippxwl as he opened the door and deluged him. He was both surprised and annoyed at that, and walked into the entry with oaths upon his lips, and immediately his feet caught a cord tied across the hall from the banisters to the hat rack, and it tripped him up and pulled the hat rack over on top of him. He was skinned in several places, and by the time he disentangled himself was awful mad. He started up stairs, and part way up, a cord stretched at the right height caught him suddenly under the chin and threw him backwards down the stairs. Then he started to crawl up stairs, and part wqy up discovered a rope lying on the stairs and coming from the top. He pulled it and hauled a barrel down upon himself that bounced him down stairs again. He was nearly delirious with rage as he rose to his feet that time, and utterly unable to understand the cause of all these contrivances being in his way. Once more he assayed to go up, and that time succeeded On reaching the head of the stairs, he thought he heard a snicker, and investigation showed his son peeping from his cliam- . her and laughing. On being taxed by the judge with fixing the traps, the boy own'd up. “What in the name of Hear en have 1 done that made you do it?’ yelled ‘ the judge aghast at the boy’s wickedness and coolness. “34 by, I heard you say yon played these pranks on your father.’ ‘‘Yes, and he licked me like blazes for it. just as I’ll lick you,” roared the infuriated 'judge. “You didn’t say anything about being licked when you told the stories,” cried the now frightened boy. This was a strong argument, but the judge wasn’t in a frame of mind to appreciate it. The boy's veils were heard in the next ward, anil he has resolved, as soon as his raw spots get well, to run away to some place where they’ll tell him the whole facts of a case. Anil the judge thmks he has learned to be careful u hat he says before that boy. Ferocious Courage of (he Afghan. A correspondent of the Calcutta Pioneer contributes to that paper some “Reminiscences of the War in Afghanistan.” Referring to the fighting qualities of the Afghan soldiery, he says: “An Afghan never thinks of asking for quarter, but fights with the ferocity of a tiger and clings to life until his eyes glaze and his hands refuse ti) pull a pistol-trigger or use a knife in a dying effort to maim or kill his enemy. The stern realities of war were more pronounced on the battle-fieldsin Afghanistan than perhaps they have ever been iii I’ldia, if we except the retributive days of the mutiny. To spare a wounded man for a minute was probably to cause the death of the next soldier who unsuspiciously walked past him. One thing our men certainly learned in Afghanistan, and that was to keep their wits about them when pursuing an enemy or passing over a hard-won field. There might be danger lurking in cadi seemingly inanimate form studding the ground, and unless care and caution were exercised the wounded Afghan Would steep his soul in bliss by killing a Kaftir just when life was at its last ebb. This stubborn love of fighting in extremis is prompted doubtless by fanaticism, and we saw so much of it that our men at close quarters always drove their bayonets well home, so that there should be no mistake as to the deadliness of the wound. The physical courage which distinguished the untrained mobs who fought so resolutely against us was worthy of all admiration; the tenacity with which men. badly armed and lacking skilled leaders, clung to their positions was remarkable, to say nothing of the sullen doggedness they often showed when retiring. But when the tide of the fight set in fully against them and they saw that further resistance would involve them more deeply-, there was so sudden a change always apparent that one could scarcely believe the fugitives hurrying over the hills were the same men who had resisted so desperately but a few minutes before. They acted wisely; they knew their powers in scaling steep hills, or in making their escape by fleetness of foot; and the host generally dissolved with a rapidity which no one but an eye-witness can appreciate. If cavalry overtook them, they turned like wolves and fought with desperation, selling their lives as dearly as men ever sold them; but there was no rally iu the true sense of the word, and but faint attempts at aiding each other. Their regular troops were but little amenable to discipline by reason of deficient training, and they resorted to the tactics they had pursued as tribesmen, when once they were forced to retire.” The Banana and the Guava. A slight description of the banana as it is seen growing may be interesting to some who enjoy its delicious substance without knowing what form it presents during the primary stages of its growth. The stem of the plant is not woody, but consists of the footstalks of the former leaves wrapped round each other, and it rises to the height of twelve or fifteen feet. The leaves are very large, of a long, oval form; 'five or six feet in length and beautifully green in color. The middle rib of the leaf is tough and strong, but the rest of its substance is thin and delicate, and is easily torn by the wind alone, in a direction of right angles with the rib. The manner in which the fruit is developed is quite interesting. From the midst ot the leaves, and at the top, appears a large, smooth, purple cone, hanging down gracefully at the end of a stalk. The flowers are ail wrapped up in this cone, which consists of a large number of closely packed spathes. By-and-by the uppermost of these sheathes disengages itself from the rest, curls up, and discloses a row of three or four long blossoms, with the young fruit of eaeir beginning to form. Virile this row of fruit is tender, the spatlie remains hanging over it like a roof; but when the fruit- has acquired some size and strength the protecting shield drops off, and the next in order rises up, with a similar row of young fruit, over which it stands in the same watchful attitude, till it also drops off to be succeeded by another. \\ hen one circle of fruit is completed, another is commenced below, and in due time another; while the common stem around wlnch the fruit is disposed grows constantly longer, and the cone of spathes diminishes in size, till it is all unfolded, and a monstrous bunch of bananas is finished, which seldom weighs less than twenty or thirty pound- and sometimes as much as seventy or eighty. Os all kinds of vegetable nutriment the banana is perhaps the most productive, and most easily raised. In the performance in Paris of Li Pied de Mouton, a candlestick bearing two lighted candles is brought upon the stage. One of the characters in the play blows out the candles, but as he moves away one of them becomes relighted. The actor again blows out this light, when the other one becomes kindled; and, becoming enraged, the man takes up the candlestick and blows furiously without being able to extinguish the light permanently. This effect, which creates considerable astonish ment, is produced by means of an electric spark from an induction coil, which inflames the vapor from a mixture of eth and spirits of turpentine contained in tL< vessels representing the wax tapers. •»v ■ 1 The Boston CosrtJiercim JBidJeiis xemaxka: “It is a inisnom , 'r to cali America a free country when a boy desiring to learn a trade which a mister workman is willing to teach him, finds his way blocked by combinations that assume to refuse him the privilege he claims."

— Miscellaneous Recipes. Tea Cake.— One cup of sour cream, one cup of sugar, two eggs, two cups (full) ot flour, teaspoouful of soda. Tried Oysters.— Dip each oyster in beaten egg. then in rolled crackers or corn meal and fry quickly in hot butter or lard. jWk—Two eggs, two cups of milk, two i cups of flour and a little salt. Pour into : hot roll pans, and bake in a quick oven. I Fill the pans about half full. Cocoanut Owl les—Two cups sugar, one ■ cup of butter, two eggs, one teaspoonful of soda dissolved in a tablespoonful of milk, one cocoaaut and flour enough to roll. French Loaf Cake.—' Two cups sugar, half cup of butter, half cup of sweet milk, teaspoonful of soda, two of cream tartar, three eggs, three cups flour; flavor with lemon. Lemon Flap-Jacks.—One pint of milk, ! four eggs, juice of one lemon, flour to make a light batter, pinch of soda. Fryin hot lard. Serve with sugar and nutmeg | Tried Milk Toast.— Dip slices of bread in milk, wetting both sides; have some , butter iu a hot frying pan and fry the | bread a delicate brown. Will relish for I tea. Puff Cake.— Two cups sugar, three eggs, one cup of butter, one cup of sweet milk, two teaspoonfuls cream tartar, one teaspoonful of soda, three cups flour. Bake in a quick oven. Potato Puffs—Two cups of cold, mashed potatoes; stir into this one tablespoonful of melted butter, two well-beaten eggs, and one cup of milk or cream. Pour into a deep dish and bake in a quick oven. Cider Cake—One cup of sugar, half cup of butter, one egg well beaten, one large cup of eider, one tcaspoonful of soda, flour sufficient to make it as thick as pound cake. One cup of raisins can be added if desired. Cream Cookies.— Two cups sugar, two eggs, oue cup of cream, one cup butter, one teaspoonful soda, one teaspoonful lemon extract or one-half a nutmeg, grated; flour enough to make a dough as soft as it can be rolled. Delicious. Layer Cream Cake— Three eggs, one cup white sugar, four tablespoonfuls cold water, one teaspoon of cream, two spoonfuls of baking powder, half cup flour; for the cream, half cup ofcream beaten to a stiff froth; add a little sugar; flavor to taste. Washington Cake.— Two eggs, one cup of sugar, one-half cup of butter, one-half cup of milk, one and a half cups of flour, ono small teaspoonful of saleratus, same quantity of cream of tartar. This will make three cakes. I use half butter and half lard. Fashionable Calls. (Callers seated in the parlors of an uptown mansion.) “I've heard she gave S3OO for that group. I’d just as soon have a chromo, would yon ?” “H-u-s-h!” “And just look at that center tablelooks like a fancy fair, for all the world; one would think— —-” ‘■jf-u i'h, she’s coining.” I Enter lady of ’he house.) “Oh, you dear, darling <»re* tur vs I v hat an age since I've seen you. Where hav’C you been ? Enjoying the holidays, no doubt I’m so glad to see you both !’’ (Together:) “And we are so glad to see you! How perfectly sweet you do look! What have you been doing to yourself? Oh, it's that lovely new dress! so becoming! but then you look well in every thing!” “Oh! oh! Who’s got a new sealskin cloak? Dear Mrs. Smith. I just envy you ; , it’s a b-e-a-n-ti-ful thing!” Mrs. Smith; “Well, it ought to be ; James ' gave $425 for it.” “Yes! but that’s nothing for Colonel Smith, you know! How is he? Ido admire the colonel so much! But then he never , looks at any one but you.” “Oh, yes! make me believe that! He is a regular old flirt! But I can easily forgive him for everything since he's got me this cloak. Well, we really must go—ever so many more calls to make. Now, return thissoon; there’s a darling. By-by,sweet-ness.” (Lady of the house to next caller:) “Yes?that Mrs. Colonel Smith and her sister—what a dowdy that sister is! —did call here, and, do you believe, she had the impudence to tell me—me —that her husband gave $425 for that shabby old sealskin. as if I didn’t know exactly what it was worth! He'd much better pay his debts,” etc., etc., ad infinitum. Small Trees. Nurserymen usually describe trees on fluir catalogues as “second class,” “mediim,” “first elass” and “extra.” The difference in these classes is principally, if not wholly, in the size and height of the trees; and as most farmers desire the best, they suppose that the large “ extra ” trees nerit that description, and hence order th-'m. The fact is, however, that a small tree will grow faster and (if a fruit tree) eome into bearing condition sooner than a 'arge one; and, as the New England Homelead states, in half a dozen years the tree ,‘hat was planted when small will lie larger and finer than the other. The larger the tree, the larger the roots which it has, and the larger the roots, the less fibers there will be upon them. A tree that has plenty of fibrous roots will grow readily if proper care is used in it stransplantation; but no amount of skill can coax a tree to live and flourish which is destitute of these little fibers. The roots of large trees are always more or less mutilated in the process of taking up, while small trees sustain little injury from this source. Dealers in trees assert that experienced men buy small, thrifty trees, while those who are just starting are anxious for the largest to be had. Those who wish to set out trees will do well to learn from the experience of those who, at considerable loss to themselves, have demonstrated that small trees are the ones to buy. The Cause of Diphtheria. D.. Emi. Qi.cmcr, of 1 hiladc.phm, wlic has made investigations into the cause of diphtheria, reaches the following conclusions : “After a laoortous and scrutinizing investigation isto the cause of a large number of cases of diphtheria that have come under my care during several years past, I have almost arrived at the conclusion that the primary infection of an individual omc' from the fungi which are found as spots of different colors on the exterior or fruits, particularly apples. As far as the power of my microscope has shown, these fungi seem identical with the fungi from a diphtheric ulcer, and last autumn 1 traced number of cases, at one time five together in one family, back to the eating of apples picked from the ground in orchards without previously cleaning the fruit by rub““S mining, fijg prevalence of this ’.readful disease in the last three decades may be well accounted for by the fact that the appearance and flourishing of lower animal and vegetable organisms is periodical, of which we have examples in the potato disease, the disease of the grape vine, and cholera, which latter has been ascribed to a fungus growing on the ears of rice in East India and carried in the human body as a contagion.” The Match Tax.—The cent-a-bunch tax on matches yields the Government a daily income of nearly SIO,OOO. Any one who desires can figure from this, approximately, how many matches are us«d per day . On the insignificant little bunch of matches is levied by far the heaviest Iqx known to civilized governments. Yom grocet will charge 50 cents for a quarter gross package. Os this sum 36 cents stands for the tax of a penny a bunch, while 14 cents represents the first cost and the man- ‘ ufficturer's. Jobber's and retailer's profit*;.

COMMISSIONERS' ANN U AL. REPORT. Djstoosfits Balams Thursday Morning. June 1-1882. .BaiancuS. Receipts. __ _ .. _ H Prerioasi Fiscal Yr. Total. Dr. Comysiients. Cr. Previous. [Fiscal Tr Total. I i: ' —., ..... ..i. •. —-:, ... ■ — - —--— ■• i . i L 1 ---g 5508 .5 j State Revexvk. • jj ’ j .5508A38 " I ' i “ I, . ,!l ‘ L ■ Ain't paid State <5.508 15 $2.11679 '.'d Install’mt & ucl ts, 3.39" 34 duplicate ISBI H i j | ' Hl $5,508 $5.508 13 , 77144?: 77144 State Ho: *- Tax 77 > 44 771 H Amount paid State . $771 44 $-’9; 3 s .’J Installm’t X dcl’ts 472 06 duplicate rSbi 44 177 ' 41 .. 7344?5.' 7344 S.State School tax. L 734 S 6 7344 « Amount ..aid State $7,344 86 $-’</.7 -’4 eJ Installin'! N dd’t4437 duplicate ISo I 1 86 17-344 86 •I ' ' 6788.24 ': 675? Township Rev.a ir. 5 J 57 10653 June distribution 59 * l 55 Previously . v ■' ?R|6 "5 I -’■77- <6 J.i ir.stallni’t A dclq ts I 3-786 01 Duplicate tSSI . | li 1 $6,788 24 ! $10,653 12 61747411 617474 Roai. Rr vlm r. ! 25184.1 '97640:. 6716 78 86934 S . ji I ij June distribution $ , 553 5 53 77 1 1 -97 r *° Prcxious report*.d. Road re.'. ipt* filed 13-“' 97 ’I 1 Delinquent,. . j! 6.574 89 Duplicate iBBt I I i i| 648094 6480946 ‘ Ivt School t< *vl *, 64A5 84T 389463! 9052,4] 12946 j$ June distribution $3,858 14 13-89+ 63 I'l'cvicuslv reported ' J.muari dist ibution 2,622 80 2.586 31 2d ::-.*tnitn> t A delq '■ 6.465 84 Duplicate 1881.. $6.48094 $12.94678 ::<>:.*■ Do., T-.x, .. 165588:] IJOlijal 1655:48 3156 88 June distribution $1,501 00 $1,501 30 iPrcviously reported 128 78 | Delinquences 1.526 80 Duplicate 1881 . si.zu-i *■<> 88 266 c O. Ire v. '!•> 11 '"Y. 194-4- 23623/i 23+4’55 +60751 June distribution slßl2 05 I January ” 853 04 | 794 91 2d Instalhn’t & dvl’ts I 1449 64 Duplicate 1881 I j >! ; '• ; ii !’ 14607 51 H'- i s oo )W , January distribution SI4OOOO | si;.poqo Pad in • 1 .i . ■■ | . j :• I ; . « Com. Cong'l PKtavritaD . .. ’ Amount loaned. $10245 00 ! $9346 55 Loans paid in 1 , | 2- 5<9 Firns A forfeitures. 87;' ” ! 1425 22 I rcvicmsly reported. ‘ ‘ ’ I 91- 3- ijSale ot estrays & ■ $1024,5 00 ( $11129 ,s I 9 4- k 17640 45 17649 Com. St CvmA lATEttEST. 886'07 18 434 , 94 Wj3sm Previously reported I $ 942 48 'inki'-st trom State June distribution 905044 2893 89 luh < *f. cm Bans i; ; July distribution 7288 59 773 57 rrom . Gvn’l.. i Paid State 1301 42 jj , sl;f-49 87 | $18535 94 73<7-: 7.V.7-” Relemptioxs. . . -j „ . 3 ; !’ I ; ' i, i 11 1’ i ii ; Paid out $73; 7; , $732 72 I Paid In. I<A!L RoAI.Tax. j . ” I 1 6 3 5 7 99 1 Duplicate 1881 : : 1 I . Ij <! I 68 «9 68 89 . . Decati it Corporation. II 4150135 L 6889 4180 35 June distribution, S6B 89 S6B 89 Previously reported . ! 4l<So 35 I Duplicate 1... ; ■ !i . ... . H i: ; Hi | ll S6B 89 $4249 24 ' 11 ‘ ti ! I: •JI " i I L : II Sinking Fcxn. ’ . itco’ca , 1 3’'5 UG 4 3550:0+ 355 cu, I I $35 " n 04 Duplicate ISBI 11 1 I■?’'" 1 ' : I ‘ U 260593 2605913!] Cot NTV Revenue. j: .J Expense court. s*ssß 35 j $7850 50 jPrcvioush reported Expense prison jj 365 35 | 901864 ij.'G installn/t delin’ts Insanity 223 87 , *5 1881. : Int county ord’s & b’ds 3652 50 , ISS 08 Jno Meibets, ag’t i ’ I ttorney > fees Igo go , 56 ;S ' Share 3% fund j! Highways. 439 (.0 ; 37 67 pA. Holthouse . [ laquest 136 35 j 350 jinws Long. 1 '■ I I County asylum » 577 °7 (County Asylum ' Jury fees 1522 40 j 1304 09 ij Ditch "tax ’ 1 I 1 ’ Specific 1355 48 I J : H i 11 : ! County office . 3535 c.l | |! j • h j Bridge account . 2482 00. j 1 i 1. 1 Expense poor j; 956 08 I 0 •’ ' Printing & tationery ’ 2072 18 J 1 i ■ ; * Xssessing 1448 on | 1 I h JCourt House 1178 ;1 t I 1 : • i ll Election | ! 40 L. , ■ ’ ’ I 'dHi'. 80 I I II ‘ ‘ jll >u-eof Ri'lcge 40 j Orders filed . . I 3 | $33,32.48 ‘ Bonds out standing | 4QOOO oo Floating Orders 1557696 9’42 9-647 9’U 9-’ 6 57 33 Treasurer Dr f il ,

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