Democratic Sentinel, Volume 6, Number 45, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 December 1882 — Page 1

NEWS OF THE WEEK.

AMERICAN ITEMS. ICMt. R. Porter Lee, the embezzling Buffalo Bank Preaident, received a ten years’ sentence | Among the business failures recorded are those of Graham <t Aitkin, dry-goods dealen in New York, with liabilities of 9 15-*,-OCO, and Dodge A Sinclair, rubber dealers, liabilities estimated at 9 ‘MI.OOQ. Gen. Daniel Tyler died at New York at'the age of 88. The Lackawanna steel-mills at Scranton, Pa., have shut down for an indefinite period « Hon. James S. Pike, of Maine, for many years an editorial associate of Horace Greeley, has passed away. The Hon. J. T. Updegraff, Congress-man-e’-eet from the Seventeenth Ohio district, died at Mount Pleasant, near Steubenville. His disease was stone in the bladder. He was treated for Bright’s disease, and his true ailment was only discovered by a postmortem. At the Coliseum Theater, Cincinnati, Frank "Trayne, in personating Si Slocum, in the play of the same name, shot Annie Ven Behren dead while attempting to shoot an apple from her head. He fired with his back turned to the victim, and it is claimed the accident was due to a defect in the rifle. Frayne was placed under arrest Samuel Remington, the rifle manufacturer, is de ’A The new penal code of New York, so far as it relates to the observance of Sunday, is being enforced in New York city. West.

Mrs. Helen M. Gougar, the temperance and woman-suffrage leader of Indiana, has'brought suit against the Chief of Police of Lafayette. The Coroner’s jury at Cincinnati; exonerated Frank Fra ne, the actor, from all bla r.c in killing Mi-s Von Behren. Owing, as is reported, to scarcity of orders the North Chic igo steel-rail mills have shut down. About I,BOJ men were thfown out of employment by this ac’.ion •The Joliet Iron ondSteel Company shut down a portion of their works at Joliet, leaving WO men idle. Two Mexicans stopped, a stage in the vicinity of lOTdsburg, New Mexico, disarmed the driver and took the mail pouch Two Chinese passengers were oi dered outside, robbed of their money and coolly shot deadFive thousand citizens and 150 policem n joined in An exciting hunt in Chicago for a black desperado who had fatally assaulted a fellow-African and then killed a policeman who was sent to arrest him. After lurking about the city several days the murderer’s place of concealment was discovered He again resialed arrest, snooting and dangerously wounding afiother officer, and ag un made his escape; He was finally hunted down and found hid n a coal-box. Without summonin < h'm to surrender, the police opened fire on the d sper tdo, and ri Idled his body with bulb ts. At- Durango, Col., Dr. Evetzker, whs publicly horsewhipped by two women for slandering them, and at night he went to his office, mortally shot his partner, Dr. If. A Olay, and then killed himself. Kreigh & Davies, grain and provision operators on ths Chicago Board of Trade, have suspended payment, with liabilities estimated as h gh as $.00,090. The steam-barge 8. B. Peters burned up on Lake Michigan, and went to the bottom with thirteen hands on board Routh. Congressman-elect Herron, from the Sixth Louidam district', died suddenly of heart di-ease nt Baton Rouge. The Grand Jury at New Orleans has found indictments against thirteen persons for election fraud*. David Lee (white) was lynched in front of'his house, at Start’s Landing; La., for hog-stealing. Capt. Allen May, aged 101, was married to a girl of 19 in Hardin county, Ky. At Edgefield, 8. C., Moses Lockhart, colored, was executed for the muider of Bincock, also colored Flames destroyed the international cotton-coriipress at Houston, Tex., with 8,0.0 bales of c tton, and three residences. Tlfeloes is estimated at $500,000. For insults offered in a court at Key West, C. B. Pendleton, an editor, horsewhipped Lieut. Gov. Bethel.

WASHINGTON NOTES. A negro crank calling himself Roscoe Conkling is in Washington, claiming to be Secretary of the Treasury. The Appropriations Committee of the House has practically completed the Indian bill, which calls for 167,000 less than was appropriated for the present year. The Bbard of Audit having charge of the claims for professional services rendered to the late President Garfield has reported a set of allowances for the physicians. Under this arrangement Dr. Bliss gets $(5,500; Drs. Agnew and Hamilton each $5,000; Drs. Reyhum. and Boynton each $4,000, and the nurse, Mrs. Dr Edson, $3,000. Rear Admiral Wyman, in command of the North Atlantic squadron, died in Washington of apoplexy. Clayton McMichael, proprietor of the Philadelphia North American, has been commissioned as United States Marshal for the Dis.rict of Columbia. MISCELLANEOUS GLEANINGS. Quebec was visited by a firci which destroyed several factories and caused $201,000 damage. The steamship Cedar Grove, from Londoh, struck the rocks off Cape Canso, Nova Scotia, and sank in ten fathoms of water within an hour. Two boats with thirteen seamen reached the shore, but one was lost in the breakers with nineteen lives. Reports from eighteen New York examined since the burning of the Park Theater show that two only (and these the latest built) comply with the requirements of the law for the safety of the audience in case of fire. Of all the theaters in Chicago, McVicker’s alone is pronounced absolutely safe in case of fire. Stephen W. Dorsey has published a lengthy card to the public defending his ccnneotion with the star-route contracts, and offeils to pay SI,OOO for eve-y dollar it can b r shown he to?k from the ti easury. He denounces severely Ma :Veagh and James, as having viola*sd a promise made to himself and Ingersoll to keep s cret a document intrusted to the’r keeping detailing his (Dor ey’r) connection with the mail contract >rs, an I avers that a special inves igation ordered by Pr. sident Garfield was never inaugura'ed. The schooner Henry Folger, of Cape Vincent, went ashore on Salmon Point reef, Lake Ontario, and Capt J. W. McDonald and a crtw of eight men were lost POLITICAL POINTS. Washington dispatches state that Public Printer Rounds is “solid” with the President, and that there i< no truth in the rumor tl.at he was to be removed. The Alabama Legislature re elected John T. Mqrgan United St ; es Senator. Gov. McEnery, of Louisian t, refuse*, to i'sua a certificate of elec Jon o WP It lUfg*r,; qn’t-be grou »d of non-ro4dcn.e in UpSMfi.

The Democratic sentinel.

JAS. W. McEWEN Editor

VOLUME VI.

FOREIGN NEWS. The Irish Government has taken cognizance ot Davit?* recent speech on the starvation issue. Gladstone stated in Parliament that the cost of the Egyptian campaignrggregated £3,500,100 up to Oct. 1, sin:e which date the expense has been borne by Egypt The Irish Privy Counci 1 , after a protracted meeting, decided to proclaim Dub. lin under the curlew section of the Repression act, which authorizes arrests on the streets during the great r part of the night The Council of the University of Russia has decided to expel forty-six students for participation in the late disturbances and place th Jr parents under police supervision. By the failure of the Municipal Bank at, Skopin, Rus ia, the whole town and thousau Js of families elsewhere have been financially ruined The liabilities ate over 12 (€(’,000 roubles. Sixty thousand applications have been made for relief under the Arrears-of-Rent act in Ireland A man named Martin, employed as n compositor in the Government ‘Printing Office at Dublin, 1 as been arrested for connection with the murder of Detective Cox. Arabi Pasha pleaded guilty to the charge of rebellion, and was senten? d to death. The Khedive commuted the sentence to exile for life, and it is believ’d that the defeated national leader will be permitted to retire to British territory. The Rt. Rev. Archibald Campbell Tait, Archbishop of Canterbury, is d al.

PUBLIC DEBT.

The Official November S'a'emn . Following is the November statement of the public debt: ]nl crest-benrfntr debt— Three and one-half per cents $ t’4 31 ,7 0 Four and one-half percents 25>i. iin.i Four per cents 7:w.“40 70 Three per cents 280, 3'4.750 Refunding certificates *1.6; Navy pension fund 14,0e0.000 Principal..... 66 8)0 Interest 10,658,308 Matured debt — Principal 9,5'5,0 5 Interest 441,409 Debt bearing no interest — Old demand and legal-tender notes. 346,740,346 Certificates of deposit 9.815,'00 Gold anq silver certificates 108,501,20 Fractional currency 15,398,548 L ss amount e-timated lost or destroyed 7,022,614 Principal.... 47.’,112,160 Unclaimed Pacific railway interest.. 5,339 Total debt — Principal $1,899,721,' 15 Interest 11,100,058 Total $1,91 ,82 ,073 Cash in treasury ~ 287,867,173 Debt, less cash in treasury— Dec. 1, 1882 ...' 1,622,956,899 Nov. 1, 1882 1,628,491,0(2 Decrease of debt during month 5,5: 4.142 Decrease of debt since June 30,1882.. 65,957,561 Current liabilities — Interest due and unpaid 1,614,032 Debt on which interest has ceased... 9,515,055 Interest thereon 411,409 Gold and silver certificates 108/ 04,200 United States notes held for redemntlon of certificates of deposit.... 9,815,000 Cash balance available Dec. 1, 1882.. 157,887,476 Total $ 247,867,173 Available assets— Cash in treasury 287,867,173 Bonds issued to Pacific Railways— Principal outstanding 64.623,512 Interest accrued and not yet i>aid... 1,615,187 Interest paid by United States 55,344,682 Interest repaid by companies— By transportation service 15,409,850 By cash payments, 5 per cent, net earnings 655,198 Balance of interest paid by United States 39,350,632

The Animals’ Demonstration.

A drove of asses which had been wandering through the country came one day to a ptire and crystal pool. While slaking their thirst, the assea observed that the surrounding section was fertile in the extreme, and was evidently the abiding place of a vast multitude of deer, sheep, goats and lesser animals, for tho pool was completely surrounded by them, all drinking their fill. Presently an ass addressed his companions as follows: “In all our travels we have never found a more delightful dwelling place. This pool, apparently, is the sole drinking place of these animals. Let ns drive them away from the pool and take possession. We shall then have all tho fertile country to ourselves, and can cease our wanderings through the land.” This suggestion seemed a wise one to the asses, and accordingly they notified the deer, the sheep, the goats and the lesser animals that henceforth they must drink no more at the pool. Now in all that country round there was no other water to be had, and as the rightful dwellers on the soil loved their birthplace, they could not bear to leave for a strange land. Therefore messengers were sent to all the deer, goats, sheep and lesser animals, asking them all to meet under a clump of bushes a few rods from the pool. In a little while all the animals met, and so mighty xvere their numbers that the absurdity of so few asses depriving them of their birthright immediately struck all present. * “I perceive,” said an old goat, “that we are all of one mind. We can see that our numbers are so great that it is impossible for the asses to stand before us. Let us therefore immediately fall upon these robbers and trample them out of existence.” “Nay,” said an old sheep; “although they do not deserve it, let us give the asses warning. We will walk in full force to the pool, and our mighty strength will surely strike terror to thia hearts - of our oppressors; they will give up their usurped ownership, and bloodshed will be avoided.” This wise and gentle counsel prevailed, and the sheep, the deer, the goats and the lesser animals, every one, a mighty army, approached the pool. The asses were much alarmed at this imposing sight, but the love of power was too much for them, and they would not let the animals drink. “We will give you time to think over it,” said the sheep, who had counseled this peaceful course; “but by and by we shall come to drink, and if you oppose us, you must take the' consequences.” And now noontide approached and the thirsty animals drew near in full force to the pool. Being asses, the usurpers opposed their advance. A clattering- of many hoofs were heard, a heavy cloud of dust arose, and all the animals were hidden from our view. * When the dust cleared away, the banks of the pool were to be seen covered with deer, and goats, and sheep, and lesser animals, all drinking; but not the vestige of an ass could be discovered

RENSSELAER, JASPER COUNTY, INDIANA, FRIDAY, DECEMBER 8,1882.

KITTY’S PRAYER. “The mlsthressls dyin’, the doctors have said bo. Och, who’d be a docthor, to bring us our deaths! To sit by our beds, with a hand on the head so, A feelin’ the pulses an’ counting the breath* I To drive to onr doors in a vehicle stately, Outstretchin" a hand for the fee on the sly, To settle our deaths for us very complately, An’ very contintedly lave us to die. “The misthress is dyin’—it is such a pity— The master just worships the ground ’neath her tread, She’s such aswatecrathur, so smilin’ an pretty— Is there no cross ould woman could go in her stead? She trates us so kindly, we think It an honor To laru (rm herself her own ilegant ways. I loved her the minute I set my eyes on her, An’ what will I do when she’s dead, if you plase? “I hate our fine docthor! he ought to be cryin’, But smiled as he ran to bis carriage and book, Jisr, afther he te uld us the darlint was dyin'— Shure, if she’d recover’d, how quare he would look! I know he’s a janius—the best in the city— But God's above all—even docthors —who knows? I am but a poor little sarvint,” said Kitty, * “But even a sarvint can pray, I suppose!" So down on her knees in a whirl of emotion, With angdr and grief in a terrible swing, Her Irish tongue praving in utter devotion, J n faith that but few to their praying can bring. The poor litte servant —her tears flowing over — Implored with a force that my verse can not give, With the zeal of a saint and the glow of a lover. That, in spite of the doctor, the mistress might live. The master sat close by his darling, despair in His stupefied sorrow—just holding her hand — He prayed, to be sure, but no hope has his prayer in; In fact, he was dazed, and could scarce understand. Her delicate lips had a painful contraction, Her sensitive eyes seemed sunken and glazed— He knew in bis heart there could be no reaction. He just sat and saw her—in fact he was dazed. A pallor less ghastly—the eyelashes quiver— Life springs to the face in a sudden surprise— Grim death retrogrades with a sad little shiver— She smiles at the master, her soul in her eyesl A wonderful hope—is it hope? is it terror? Leaps up in his heart while he watches his wife— Is it life before death? is it fancy’s sweet error? Or is it —or can it be—verily life? Oh, send for the doctor —death hangs on each minute— They wait for his fiat, as that of a god— Who sagely remarks that there is something in it, Granting leases of Ute with an autocrat's nod, Joy rings through the house that was silent in sadness; The master believes that he ne’er felt despair, And Kitty, the servant, laughs out, 'mid her gladness, To think that they none of them knew of her prayer. —Good llnrr/s.

TWO WAYS.

by MARGARET B. HARVEY.

“May I come in. Lillie?” merrily called Cornelia Cary. “I tapped half a dozen times, but you never heard.” Lillie started, closed her boftk, and advanced to meet her friend, who stood outside her half-opened door. It was a dainty little retreat, Lillie Walter’s own room. Like a fairy bower, verily, all in pure white and baby blue. “Come in, of course, Cornie!” she exclaimed, greeting the other pretty girl with a kiss. Two “rosebud” maidens they were, with their creamy skins, pink lips, and hair of the shade of a half-opened sulphur-rose. No one had ever been able to decide whether their eyes were black or b ue. Their resemblance to each other was accounted for by the fact that they were distant cousins. Their relationship, however, did not prevent them from being tho best of friends. “There!” continued Lillie, “sit down in that lovely chair, which I have just finished upholstering myseif. Do you see what it is ?” “Why,” cried Cornelia, “it can’t be possible! Not your papa’s old campchair, covered with patch work, made from your blue cashmere waist, embroid red with daisies in crewel?’’ “It certainly is,” declared Lillie. “And do you know what the white blocks are ? Why, the pieces left from Miss Foster’s opera-cloak.” “And yon really did make that cloak, after all?” queried Cornie. “Well, I must say, for an amateur dressmaker, you are qu'te a success. But I hope this venture will be your last.” Lillie looked grave. “No, Cornie,” she quietly answered, “I’m afraid not.” “But you go to Swarthmore next month, you know.” “I don’t know,” returned Lillie, “that is—l believe I must give that up.” “Why, what do you mean?” Cornie looked at Lillie in surprise. “I thought you had fully resolved upon it. ” “ So I had, ” was Lillie s sad response, “but I have almost changed my mind.” Lillie’s eyes wandered until they reached the book, which she had dropped hastily upon her bed. Cornie followed her glance, and then took up the volume. “What’s this?” she asked. “Are you not too big to spend your time over tho children’s Sunday-school libraries ?” “Willie brought it home,” said Lillie, absently, setting her lips hard together. “Now, Lillie,” —Cornie’s tone was very vigorous—“will you te 1 me what’s got into you ? Has this book anything to do with it ?” “That book,” faltered Lillie, “is about a boy—who wanted to go to college—but because he was—the eldest of a large family ” “"Well, what?” crisply demanded Cornelia. “He made up his mind,” went on Lillie, “that it was his duty to give it up, and work for the others, and give them a chance. ” “And like a fool ho did it!” tartly finished her cousin. “He did,” responded the other: “but not like a fool, Cornie —like the blessed Master.” “Fidd ; e ticks!” exclaimed Miss Cary. “Did the Master sell His birthright for a mess of pottage? I don’t believe stich a sacrifice was ever required of anybody.” “Well,” calmly asserted Lillie, “I believe it is of me.” “Nothing of the kind,” remonstrated Cornie. “Plague take such stories! I believe they do* more harm than good. That old ‘ yarn ’ of sacrificing one’s self for the sake of others is worn threadbare. Such unnatural sacrifices are never appreciated, and always work wrong in the end.” “Cornie!” cried poor Lillie, “are we not required to overcome our own selfishness ?” She looked bewildered. “Certainly,” assented Cornie, “but selfishness is one thing; a proper regard for one’s self another. Don’t Shakspeare say, ‘ Self-love is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting? ’” “Yes,” answered Miss Walter, “but think. Here am I, the eldest of a large family. Papa is not well off. I have saved enough money by teaching and sewing to take me through Swarthmore College. But if I stay at hoiue and cob-

“A Firm Adherence ta Correct Principles.”

tinne to sew, and use my money on my brothers and sisters, they can all be educated; whereas, if I went, as I intended, they might have no advantages." “Lillie," suddenly inquired Cornie, “are they your children ?” “No.” “Are you responsible to God for their existence ?" “No." “Couldyou ever have anything until you earned it?” “Never.” “Now, then, let me tell you, they are not one bit better than you are. Your soul is just as precious as any one’s. You are responsible for yourself, not for any one else. No one else can work out your own development for you; no one else can insure your salvation. I tell you, our individuality is a burden which wo ourselves must bear, and which we cannot lightly shift off. Those children have the same parents as you had, to support them while they are little; they have just the same chance of earning money and educating themselves as you had. Hoe your own row first, and be sure of yout own corn before you stop to hoe for other people.” Miss Cary’s earnestness had flushed her face and exhausted her breath. “But I can’t be selfish, Cornie,” feebly answered Lillie. “Do you think it wrong to commit suicide?” abruptly asked Cornelia. “ Oh!—most assuredly 1” “Well, do you think destroying one’s life the only way in which to do such a thing?” continued Cornie. “What of deliberately destroying one’s mental powers, one’s prospects of happiness and usefulness ? You would willingly dv> ar f yourself on the merest chance that the others will turn out better than you?” Lillie was silent. “Have you any moral right to do it?” persisted Cornie. “What will you say when you come to staud before the Lord, and can only give Him your one talent folded in a napkin, when you might have been able to present at least five talents?” “T will tell Him,” declared Lillie, firmly, “that I buried my talent in order that I might better do my duty to others.” “Yes,” tartly enunciated Cornelia. “‘Lord, I was a female Jesuit! I did evil that good might come!’ ” Miss Walter started. “I did not think of that,” she murmured. “Well, you’d better think of that,” advised Cornie, “if you don’t I’ll tell you how it will be. Your sisters will dress better than you, on your earnings, and look down on you. They’ll marry before you, and do better—that is, provided you marry at all. Your brothers will despise you, for not many boys can stand being pecuniarily helped by a woman, when they might just as well work. No matter how much you do, they’ll only find fault because you don’t do more. At last, when you’re old and ugly and worn out and poor, you’ll have to beg your living among them all, the best way you can. Finally, like one of Mrs. Livermore’s superfluous women, you’ll be pushed back on the shelf—that is, unless, like some good, oldmaid aunties, you end your days as a child’s nurse, in a home of which you ought to have been mistress. “ You say you don’t want to be selfish. Suppose you make others so? Suppose you do so much for them that they take it as a matter of course. Don’t you see that you will strengthen the selfishness in them, and so d® them harm instead of good ? It is all very well to talk of being unselfish, but the fact remains that we cannot get away from ourselves. We must bear our own punishments—why not our own rewards? “Hush, Lillie! I am not done yet. Look at nature all around you. Don’t the squirrel, the ant and the bee provide enough for themselves, before they have any to spare ? It is instinct, implanted by the Creator. We have the same instinct, but we think it an outcropping of our total depravity, and try to conquer it. The consequence is, we do nobody any good, and ourselves nothing but evil. We end in mental and moral suicide. “Let me tell you what a doctor told me. Do you know where the coronary artery is ? It nourishes the heart, and is the first one given off by the circulatory system. The heart has to supply the whole body; but it feeds itself first, and with the best and purest blood. Why ? Because it has a great deal of work to do, and needs strength. How could it accomplish anything, if it supplied i’self last, and with the feeblest, most impure blood ? Will you h >.ve your body better cared for than your soul ? “I tell yon this illustrates a mo t important truth. Yet men sometimes, and women often, set themselves up to be wiser than their Maker. As if Ho ordained that hippiness a..d comfoit should always be wrong, misery and distress right! The hardest task is far more likely to be found out of the line of duty than in it. “I didn’t expect to preach so long a sermon. But I mean it every word. Now, Lillie, take my advice. G > to college, do exactly as you intended. Be strong yourself, first; then it will be time enough for you to think of aiding the weak.” For a few minutes Lillie said nothing. At last she ventured. “But I would like to be really noble.” “In the estimation of others,” added Cornelia. “My dear,, that’s another form of selfishness, in which you did not know you were indulging. To covet the world’s good opinion is, in a certain sense, pitiful, reprehensible. Do right yourself, and never mind what others think of you. The whole world is often wrong. “I,” continued Miss Cary, “like you, am the eldest of a large family, in moderate circumstances. I have been over the same ground as you, that is why I am so sure. But I have made up my mind to goto Vassar, as I have all along hoped to. Perhaps people will talk about us both, and, if you give up your project, say that you are noble and I am selfish. But wait till the end of the chapter—then see.” Cornelia took her departure, leaving Lillian in a state of intense bewilderment. But after a short, quick battle with herself she decided to reject her cousin's advice and hang out a dressmaker’s sign. For a while, all went well. Work camo so fast, money rolled in so promptly that she had no time to think. Her three sisters, Adelia, Cora and Laura, were, one after another, taken from the grammar-school, which had be n "Cod enough for her, and entered at a fashionable Institute; In the simplicity of her

heart, Lillie imagined that they would appreciate their advantages, and show some corresponding degree of thankfulness. Alas! dress, dress, dress, was their constant cry. It took all their sister's spare dollars and odd half hours to ela!x>ra‘e their stylish costumes. But Jack, her eldest brother, should prepare for the university. . He should have a private tutor, even if she had to do without that seal-skin coat for which she had hoped so long. The coat was sacrificed, the tutor engaged, but Jack would shirk his lessons. “I don’t see why you can’t let a feller alone!” he gruffly exclaimed when remonstrated with. The time for examination drew near; but, one fine day, Jack was missing. Next they heard that he had shipped before the mast. The tutor, however, had seen Lillie only to admire her. If he had been touched with her devotion to her family, she had, also, with his patience toward Jack. But, when he asked her to leave this life of toil and share his lot, which, . however humble, should always be beautified with love—she said, while her lips turned white, “I can’t; the children need me.” This was Lillie’s only offer. She never entered any society in which she could meet gentlemen, for as years passed cn she had grown so neglectful of her own appearance that she never owned a suitable dress in which to shew herself. The girls grew older, and took their places in the same circles as their school-friends. Next, Addie had a beau. Next, “Lillie, I think you might take that horrid sign down; we don’t want everybody to know that our sister is only a dressmakerl” Parties succeeded, and then a wedding. Lovely, fairy-like dresses of Swiss and satin followed one another, all stitched by the faithful fingers of the sister, whose form was growing stooped and whose hair was turning gray. And when Addie became the wife of a wealthy Judge’s son, Lillie went to church in a black silk whose seams showed white, and a bonnet three seasons behind the times. And some people wondered who that dowdy, oldmaidish looking woman was who sat with the family—possibly a favored servant or humble dependent. In all these years of industry Lillie had 1 iid by about SSOO. Upon this she thought she could place some reliance when old age came. But her father’s house was heavily mortgaged. She handed out her savings, and never made any more. “If I were to die tomorrow,” she bitterly thought, “I haven’t a dollar to bury me!” Well, Lillie’s story henceforth does not vary much. Her sisters all married wealthy, her younger brothers, thanks to her energy, became well established in business. Her parents grew old and feeble, and she alone supported them. When they died she contributed just as much toward their burial as those who “could buy and sell her.” The proceeds of the house, divided, amounted to little. After awhile J ckcame back, rich in ships and merchandise, having succeeded best of them all. and without her help. When she was past work, she led a tolerated exi tcnce for a few years, from one house to another, until, finally, at her own request, her brothers and sisters clubbed together and made up a sum sufficient to procure her admission to the Old Ladies’ Home—where they frequently forgot to visit her. What of Cornelia Cary all this time? Well, she went to Vassar, as the had intended. They missed her at home, and were sometimes pinched wi bout her, but it didn’t hurt them any—she had been pinched, too. They lived and got along very well, until she graduated with honor. And then weren’t they proud of “Our Cornie!” When she came home at last, and spent a few weeks with them, they appreciated her presence, and all, from father down to baby Eddie, were glad to do something for her. She hadn’t cheapened herself, as they knew her value. Next she received an appointment as professor of mathematics in a Western college, at a salary of $1,500 a year and her board. Then, when she was able, she tXmembered her family at home, and sent them freely more in one year than poor Lillie could earn in three. Because the respected herself, they respected her and themselves; and every one of her brothers and sisters studied dili ently and turned out well. Mr. Cary was soon relieved from the press ure of all his debts, and had the - satis faction of owning his home before ho died. And next, after three years of sue cessful, noble labor, Cornelia married a State Senator, and became a devoted, model wife and mother. She had a beautiful ideal home, and exerted a grand, elevating influence in social, educational and church circles. Constantly increasing her loveliness and usefuln ss. she grew younger instead of older, until it could' be truthfully said of her, that her last years were her best. One day Cornelia visited her old-time friend at the home. Little was said by either, as they sat, side by side, clamping each other’s hands, their eyes filled with tears. “You see I was right,” whispered Cornie, in a choking voice; “no one ever thought of calling me selfish. I only lived out my own life, day by day, as the way seemed to open before me. And my brothers and sisters are guiltless of the sin of ingratitude. I did my duty and they did theirs.” • “Lillie, Lillie,” called Cora, “it is half-past six. Tea’s ready.” Lillie sprang to her feet and glanced at the little clock on her mantel-piece. She had thrown herself across the foot of her bed, and slept just one hour. The revulsion of feeling almost made her faint. She sank upon her knees, and exultingly cried, “Thank God, I am saved!” “Are you coming, Lillie?” asked Cora, outside. “Yes,” answered Lillie, following her sister. “Where’s Willie? Willie, run right down the street and tell Cornie I’m going to Swarthmore.” “Why, she knows it, don’t she?” queried the boy, wonderingly. “No matter,” returned Lillie, excitedly. “Go, tell her; she’ll understand what I mean.” — Demorest’s Monthly.

In the history of Bowdoin College, Prof. A. S. Packard says he remembers Hawthorne as he looked in the recitation room, with “the same shy, gentle bearing, black, drooping, full, inquisitive eye, and low, musical voice that he ever had,” and Longfellow, sitting two seats behind Hawtherne, a fai -ha idd youth, blooming with health anti early propuse,

FARM NOTES.

Burnt Corn for Fowls.—An occasional meal of corn, bnr J on the c b until each kernel is black, or i's long as it can be burned and have the corn retain its shape, is greedily eaten by fowl - *, and results in a general improvement in their health, and a greater average number of eggs is produced. A Hasty Conclusion. —When Mr. Edmund Hersey hears a man proclaim a new departure in agriculture o su> ce s, after onl.’ one or two years’ trial, it is always evident to him that the speaker has formed a hasty conclusion, which time may prove So he ex] resses himself in the Massachusetts Ploughman. Shrinkage of Corn. —Corn will shrink from the time it is husked from ike field or shock, in the autumn, n well p elected cribs, from 20 to 30 per cent, by spring. That is, 100 bushels will shrink to 70 or 80, according to how dry it was when gathered. Sound corn will shrink 20 per cent. £ so that 40 cents per bushel as it comes from the field is as good as 50 cents in the spring. Salt for Vegetables.—The Michigan Farmer says the plants most benefited by an application of salt are cabbage, ce'ery, asparagus, tomatoes, onions and radishes. Salt on land renders it more friable, as it po sesses the property of attracting moisture from the atmosphere. Grasses are most readily affected by salt; it is generally of advantage to bulbous plants and those with succulent leaves. Science and Agriculture.—George B. Loring, Commissioner of Agriculture, in an address, said: Let our scientific teachers learn to respect the practical knowledge of the farmer, and let the farmer lay aside his jealousy of the learning of the schools. To this just proper combination of mental forces how would the earth unfold her secrets; how would the fields rejoice under well-directed cultivation; how would the whole animal economy of the farm be developed and improved; how would the whole business of agriculture be brought into subjection to systematic laws. Without this combination, deprived of this accumulation pf facts, science in agriculture becomes powerless; with it, it becomes a most important ally to the farmer; in fact,it is 1 educed to one mode of practice itself and meets with the highest success. For, in whatever the farmer does, he is obliged to recognize an influence which the hand of man cannot reach, which no investigation can fathom, no human poxver guide. Agriculture obeys the laws of nature; science endeavors to ascertain and explain them. Science may attend upon agriculture as a guide and stimulus to the best exertion; but it is the patient and prudent and experienced farmer who knows what land he needs, what crops he can raise, wh it fertilizers he requires, and what lai. or he can best apply. It is the union of practice and science which makes fanning perfect. Sand for Packing Fruit.—The Fural New Yorker has the folloxving: The citrus men of Los Angeles, Cal., have made a discovery of great value, ta Florida. Dry sand is the best packing for oranges and lemons. It must be quite dry, and no paper must be usedThe fruit must touch the sand. Experience waif ants keeping for five months at least. The dry sand has absorbing power that apparently takes up all exudations subject to decomposition, the rind being very porous. Naturally the thoughtful mind suggests that, on the same principle, dry sand must have a similar preservative effect on other fruits, such as pears, plums, nectarines, apples and other smooth-skinned varieties. Keeping Apples.—A farmer wants to know how to keep a hundred barrels of apples until late in the fall without putting them in a barn hr out-house, and the Country Gentleman suggests the following method: You may place the barrels of apples on their sides, and leave them in a sheltered and shaded place in the orchard, or in any other suitable spot. Place two rails or large poles on the ground, so as to raise the barrels a few inches above it. Item will not be likely to injure them, but it will be better to make a temporary roof of boards. There will be no danger of their freezing till late in November. If you cannot barrel them, place half a foot of straw cn a dry spot of ground, and pile the apples carefully in a long heap, and cover them with two or three inches of straw. The object of placing them in art out-house, opening to the north, is to secure a cool place, a dry floor and shelter from rains. They are to be removed to the cellar or fruit-room before freezing w. ather. Small Grain for Pigs.—Western farmers have bee me so accustomed to making pork from corn that they scarcely know what to do when a corn crop fai's. Many farmers hesitate to settle north of the line where large crops of corn are raised, because they think they can not produce pork to a - vantage. Now no one will deny that corn is a most excellent fool for fattening hogs, and where it can be cheaply produced it is generally the most economical article that can be employed for that purpose. It is true, however, that pork is economically produced in places where corn cau not be ripened, and the fanners there find as much profit in raising beef and mutton. In Great Britain barley is chiefly used far fattening hogs. In Canada all the s nail grains except wheat, peas and roots largely take the place of corn. In the New England States a little corn is used in connection with potatoes, apples, pumpkins and mill feed. A variety of the food given to hogs appears to promote health and to produce meat of fine flavor. As prices range this season it is likely that oats will prove to be a chea er food for hogs in many parts of the West w ere but little corn is raised. Experiments tried by several seem to show that two bushels of oats are worth as much as one bushel of corn for making pork. In many parts of the country it is easier to raise two bushel* of oats than one bushel of corn. The cost of thrashing the oats is less than that of husking the corn. To produce the best results the oats should be ground be ore they are fed. They will be readily eaten and digested, however if they are soaked in milk or xvater. Barley which has been discolored by exposure is an excellent food for pigs. The like is true of rye and peas.

HOUSEKEEPERS’ HELPS.

Cigar ashes will kill the lie© PR plants growing ipdoors.

$1.50 dot Annum.

NUMBER 45.

Rancid butter can be made sweet if worked thoroughly in sweet milk. Shells can be cleaned by washing them in cold water and then boiling in milk. Powdered borax will drive away ants and cockroaches if sprinkled where they frequent. To cleanse white fur, rub in white flour and hang out of doors for half an hour; repeat two or three times and it will look like new. Equal parts of gum arabic, gum myrrh and blood root, made into a powder and used as a snuff, will remove every trace of catarrh. To make a crape veil look equal to new, and restore the stiffne-s and luster, place it on the grass after the dew has fallen and let it remain about a half hour. Almond Cakes.—One pound of flour,, half a pound of loaf sugar, quarter of a j ound of butter, two ounces of bitter almonds, two < ggs and a table-spoonful of vinegar. Bake in amall cakes. Irish Stew. —Take cold meat tint has been le;t from a roast and cut into small squares; put into a stcwpan with sliced raw potatoes and onions; season with salt and pepper and mix a tablespoonful of flour with two of water and stir in while cooking. Stewed Carrots. —Boil the carrots until they are half done, then scrape into thin slices; put them into a stewpan with as much milk as will hardly cover them, a very little salt and pep per and a small quantity of chopped parsley; simmer.. them until they are perfectly tender, but not broken. When nearly done add a piece of butter rolled in flour. Serve hot. Rice and Afile Pudding.—Boil a cupful of rice for ten minutes; drain it through a hair sieve unt 1 quite diy. Put a cloth into a pudding dish and lay the rice round it like a crust. Cut six apples into quarteis and lay them in the middle of the rice, with a little chopped lemon peel, a couple of cloves arid some sugar. Cover the fruit with t ome rice, tie up tight and boil for an hour. Serve with melted butter sweet ened and poured over it, or with cream. Rice Wafei.es.—For breakfast must be started the day before you wish to eat them; that is, the rice must be boiled. A good way to accomplish this is to make a rice pudding to-day and reserve half a cupful of the cooked rice f r to-morrow's waffles. To this quantity add a pint of sweet milk, the yelks of three eggs, two ounces of butter (or a good sized lump) and a little salt. M>x half a teaspoonful of soda with one pint of flow, beat these all together and bake in waffle irons in a hot oven. Rice Balls.—A novel way to serve rice»is to make it in balls. Proceed in this way: Take one-quarter of a pound of raw rice, wash it and cook it in a farina kettle with one quart of sweet milk, half a cup of sugar, a little salt and nutmeg, or any other flavor you choose. When the rice is tender and the milk is all absorbed in it, take it from the kettle and fill some small teacups with it; press the rice firmly so that the kernels wdll adhere to each other. Before carrying the rice to the table tutn the bills out of the cups on a fruit dish; if taken out with care, they will preserve their shape. Madeira wine, with plenty of sugar in it, makes a nice sauce for the rice.

The Richest Man In Maine.

Every morning, Sundays excepted, at a few minutes before 9 o’clock, © pair of black horses and a two-seated phaeton halt at the door of the First National Bank in Skowhegan. The team is commonplace in respect to horses, carriage and driver. The horses arc good, strong, clean-limbed beasts, but their trapping and grooming evince a disregard of appearances. The carriage is free from gloss and style. The old gentleman who alights and enters the bank is the richest man in Maine, ex-Gov. Abner Coburn. His wealth is estimated at $0,000,000 or $7,000,000, but can only be approximated. He and his brother Philander owned at the time timber lands worth $4,000,000 in Michigan and Minnesota. The brother is now dead. Besides his large possessions in Maine, the ex-Governor is said to own extensive timber lands in the region of Puget Sound. There are no heirs to his property but nieces. He was never married. His only living brother, Alonzo, is in very feeble health, and the ex-Governor will probably survive him. There is no one to perpetuate the Coburn name. Of eight brothers, not one has left a male heir. The last of them (Stephen’s son) was drowned with his father a few months ago. Ex-Gov, Coburn is 80 years old, and is for more reasons than one a remarkable man. In appearance he is venerable, but exceedingly well preserved. The frosts of eighty winters have given his head and face a whiteness that at first sight startles one, and invariably evokes a feeling of extreme respect in approaching him. Time has laid a kindly hand upon him. Himemory was never better. His sentences are quick, clean-cut and busi ness-like. His own efforts and astuteness have accumulated his immense fortune. He was a farmer’s boy. He was born in Skowhegan, about three miles out of the village. He lived on the farm till 1840, when he entered into the lumbering business, from the profits of which, mainly, have come his present possessions. He began as a surveyor and au explorer. He penetrated the wilderness for hundreds of miles, and in this adventurous and hardy pursuit gained the knowledge and skill which led to his profitable investments in timber land. He is still actively engaged in lumbering, and personally directs and superintends the management of his affairs. He has neither a clerk to keep his accounts nor a secretary to write his letters. If a man comes in to buy a township of land, he conducts the negotiations and makes all the calculations himself. If another man comes in to pay a note the millionaire of 80 years computes the interest with his own hand. He writes all his letters and mails them himself. He frequently comes to the postoffice of a morning with a whole armful of correspondence. He makes no display of his wealth whatever. Until recently he hasn’t had a coachman even. He is extremely charitable, and no one whom he believes deserving appeals to him in vain.— Lewiston (Me.) Journal.

A Missouri teacher makes the study of geography interesting to his pupils by beginning at home, taking first counties, locations and boundaries; next States, upon the same plan; then the United States, until the whole subject is mastered;

WORDS OF WISE MEN.

babe in a house is a well spring of is .worth doing at all is worth BismeZi. Nothing ever achieved without — Emerson. Who can all sense of others' tils escape, 1b but a brute, at best, in human shape. - Juvenal. You miiy depend upon it that he is a goodsimm w)i<vse friends are all good.— Larater. We should look nt the lives of all as at atotrror, and take from others an example for ourselves. — Terence. (JJt is only necessary to grow old to become more indulgent. I sec no fault co tn mi t ted that I nave not committed myself.— Goethe. We should do by our cunning as wo do by our courage—alwavs have it ready to defend ourselves, never to offend others.— Greville. Neithke a borrower, nor a lender be: For loan oft loses both Itself and friend; And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. —Shakspeare. Life, believe, Is not a dream ' So dark as sages say; Oft a lit tic morning rain Fortells a pleasant day. —Charlotte Bronte. A MAN should never bo ashamed to own he has been in the wrong, which is but saying in other words, that he is wiser to-day than he was yesterday. — Pope. There are many men who appear to be struggling against. poverty, and yet are happy; but yet more, who, although abounding in health, are miserable. — Tacitus. Choose for your friend him that is wise and good, and secret and just, ingenuous and honest, and in those things which have a latitude, use your own liberty.— Jeremy Taylor. Men of great parts arc often unfortunate in the management of public business, because they are apt to go out of the common rpad by the quickneps of the imagination.— Swift. Though a soldier, intime of peace, is like a chimney in summer, yet what wise man would pluck down his chimney because his almanac tells him ’tis the middle of June.— Tom Brown. Equality is qne of the most consummate scoundrels that ever crept from the brain of apolitical juggler—a fellow who thrusts his hand into the pocket of industry and enterprising talent, and squanders their hard-earned profits on profligate idleness and indolent stupidity.— Langstaff. O, blessed health! thou art above all gold and treasure; ’tis thou who onlargest the rtonl, and openest all its powers to receive instruction, and to relish virtue. He that has thee, has little more to wish for! and he that is so wretched as to want thee, wants everything with t\ice.*~-Sternc. Every mind seems capable of entertaining a certain quantity of happiness, which no institutions can increase, no circumstances alter, and entirely inder pendent of fortune'. Let any man compare his present fortune w ith the past, and he will; probably, find himself, upon the whole, neither better nor worse than formerly .—-Gold smith.

Is the Pig a Nuisance?

Is the pig a nuisance in tho village? He is, and he is not, just as ho is managed. On the farm, he has his place yet, as an indispensiblo worker, and cheap source of food and fertilizers. Butin the village, whore esthetics sometimes interfere with profits, people are getting fastidious, and avoid the pigpen as a nuisance. It would bo a nuisance perhaps under tho wes of the dwelling, managed in almost any way. But at the back end of the village lot, where the barn, if there is one, is located, there the sty may be safely placed without offense to eye, ear, or nostril, and with decided profit. It is the cheapest source of good pork, ham, shoulder, sausage, head-cheese, and lard, that a villager' can have. As a manufacturer of fertilizers for the village garden, the pig cannot be beaten. Ho turns every weed, soil, Vegetable, fruit, and all kitchen waste into gold. “Ah! but he squeals!” Thep feed him more, and he will be quiet as a lamb, all day and all night. “Ah! but the pen unsightly I” That is your fault, not his. Evon the sty has its esthetics, and it may be made “a thing of beauty and a joy forever” if you like. “Well, he smells badly, any w ay.” No, sir. Not if yor take proper care of him. Give him a sheltered bower for his nest, ami plenty of straw or leaves, and he will Iceop his bed as clean as a parlor.. him plenty of muck or peat, garden soil, head lands, or absorbelits of any kind, and ho will so thoroughly obaerVe the Mosaic law in regard to animal p astes, that no neighbor of yoijrn .mistrust that a pigis within a mile’of your' premises. The health comnflttee of the village will never smell you out, or enter complaint against your sty. Do not lay your sins of ommission at the door of the dumb beast. He has his esthetic side, and only requires a fair share of attention to lie made ornamental as well as useful. Please take particular notice that wo raise our own pork, eat home-cured hams, and know tho woman who makes our sausage-meat.— Clift, in American Agrimlturist.

Strength and Health.

It is quite a common idea that health keeps pace with strength. I know intelligent perspns who really think that you may determine the comparative health of a company of men by measuring their arms—that he whose arm measures twelve inches is twice as healthy as he whose arms measures but six. Tliis strange and thoughtless misapprehension has given rise to nearly all the mistakes thus far made in the physical-culture movement. I have a friend who can lift 900 pounds, and yet is an habitual sufferer from torpid liver, rheumatism, and low spirits. There are many similar cases. Th© cartmen -of our cities, who are our strongaet men, are far from the healthiest clasa, as physicians will testify.J On the contrary I have many friends who would stagger under 800 pounds that are In capital trim. But I need not elaborate a matter so familiar with physicians and other observing people. No test of health would prove more foully than a tape-line or a lift at the scale-beam. SupiKW two brothers—bank clerks —in bad health. They are measured round (he arm. Each marks exactly ten inches. They , try the scale-beam. The bar rises at exactly 300 pounds with each. Both seek health. John goes to the gymnasium, lifts heavy dumb-bells and kegs of nails until he can put up 125 pounds, and lift 900, and his arm reaches fifteen inches. Thomas goes to the mountains, fishes, hunts, spends delightful hours with the young ladies and plays cricket. Upon measuring his arm we find it scarcely larger than when he left town, while he can’t put up 00 pounds nor lift 500. Bnlwllo doubts Thomas will return to the counter the better men of the two? John should be the' better man, if strength is the principal or most essential.condition of health.-—Jfert/l/i. Bap spelling Is now considered ns an evidence of humorous writing. Some of the most dismal undertakers who have undertaken to make out a funeral bill cannot spell many of the simplest words correctly. 4 — Neto Orleans PicaijTtne. - * Tire shorter the tunnel the tweeter the kiss. i.j .