Indiana State Sentinel, Volume 28, Number 36, Indianapolis, Marion County, 3 September 1879 — Page 10

INDIANA STATE '.SENTINEL1 SUPPLEMENT J

THE PEASANT GIRL'S SONG.

My lady has wealth aatoM, My lady 1 strangely fair, Bright jewels encircle her lily-white throat And (bin in her golden hair. And yet it eeenu to me, . ' When proudly sb passes by. That with all her gold and her landa nntold She ii not ea happy as I. My world is a world of song, JTrom the woods where the birdllogs meet,' To the realms afar where each silTery star Is singing a melody sweet. Down at my lady's feet Unnumbered suitors fall, She rules with a ware ot her slender hand Those lords and courtiers all. Bnt not for the oldest name Or the haughtiest title there, Would I give the heart of a peasant lad Whose home I hare promised to share. My world is a world of lore Proud lady pass coldly byl Tour lands so lair and your jewels rare Can not make you as happy as I. SCRAPS. How mad it is to hope for contentment to oar infinite soul, from the gifts of this finite world. To attain long life: Love nothing too violently; hate nothing too passionately; fear nothing too strongly. He who would amass .virtues, leaving out the guardian virtue humility, is like a man who leaves a precious dust exposed to the wind. Miss Lilian Edgarton, a handsome American lady, who has made a great hit in London as a lecturer, is soon to come home. -She-has three or four new orations. When the prodigal son returned home and the fatted calf was killed and placed before him on the table, he turned up his nose at it and said: "Great goodness! haven't you got no other kind of meat but that? I alius did hate veal." A lady contributor to a newspaper writes that it is all very pretty to say, "Home is not home without a baby," but that when one has "a perpetual baby for 20 or 30 years of one's life," the blessing is i.n danger of losing some of its delights. The New York Graphic says the moral of the average American society novel is, "Marry Rich." After this moral is carried out, in many cases, there is not enough to the moral part adhering to such marriages to commend them. . Mits Smiley, the Quaker preacher, lives, during the summer, alone with her servants, in a pretty cottage at Saratoga. People insist upon seeing her, and, in self-defence, she has had to appoint a regular reception day, just as if she was a fashionable lady. "Does the court understand you to say, Mr. Jones, that you saw the editor of the Auger of Freedom intoxicated?" "Not at all sir; 1 merely said that I Had seen mm frequently so flurried in his mind that he would nndertake to cut out copy with the snuffers that's alL" When you see a lady throw her right hind around behind her back like a base ball pitcher, and twist her body like a circus contortionist, or a gentleman rushing down the street of a hot afternoon with flying coat tails, hat on the back of his head, and"iooking at his watch every two seconds, you may know Iwi iliov om lj.t li r iv In u f ( Vi a train Boston Commercial Bulletin. Society may aid in making the laborers virtuous and happy, by bringing children up to labor with steadiness, with care, and with skill; to show them how to do as many useful things as possible! to do them all in the best manner; to set them an example in industry, sobriety, cleanliness and neatness; to make all these habitual to them, so that they shall never be liable to fall into the contrary; and to let them always see a good living proceeding from labor. Mary O'Keefe, of Brooklyn, is not a good daugh.er. She had her mother arrested for stealing clothing and jewelry from her, and, m the old lady wore the stolen dress into court, she compelled her to take it off in a private room, and then make the best of her way home, covered by an old wrapper, which alas, rtalnno-Arl tn hpr nhilrl anrl whifli tha : old lady was carrying in a bundle. This wrapper the daughter allowed the mother to have, because she "did not want it" herself. ' Strange world, thisl Paris costume: A pink lawn tunic over a petticoat of white silk; the lawn embroidered in Pompadour flowers, the edge of the tunic shown up by a white plisse; an abbess train in pink lawn and white silk mixed, the lawn plisses alternating with the white ones the whole length of the train. A high pink lawn bodice all embroidered; white silk sleeves; all the way down the tunic embroidered in bands; white silk bows of ribbon ; Bilk stockings, striped pink and white; pink kid shoes with small straps fastened by Rhine stones. -A tragic love story is heard from Austria. A sub-lieutenant of the army, M. de Horn, son of a nobleman of that name, and a high official in the post-office at Bamberg, wished to marry Mile. Hammerbacher. His father would not consent, and enforced nig refusal by certain statements against the character of trie young lady, that cost him four months in prison for defamation; and the two lovers are in their graves. The lady was so troubled by the slander that she committed suicide by shooting herself through the heart, and the young man, crazed by grief, took the same yubyvi uu view vuit uu imiuo. - The Arab Physique. In Lady Anne Blunt's recent work on the Bedouin tribes of the Euphrates, there are some notes as to the physical condition of the Arabs that are medically interesting from more tban one point or view. It seems that, in spite of their absolute temperance and constant open-air life, they decay per mature ly. Well-made and bandsome in youth, at 4U their beards are gray; at oU, they are old; and the age of 60 is reached by few. From childhood up, they are in hard training, eating Out once a day, and then sparingly; and sleeping on the ground. -This ens-ires them high health and a full enjoyment of all their faculties, at the time, but uses the body rapidly; and a certain "stateness" follows, which the Bedouins acknowledge by with drawing early from all unnecessary exertion. The reaction is quickly felt; men of 40 com plain of indigestion, rheumatism, etc., and of the first positive disease they die. In youth, ill health or defective powers are unknown; but a man who falls seriously ill has as little chance of recovery as the wild animal. Doctors do not exist, nor is there any knowledge of herbs. . The sick is obliged to move with the tribe. He is set on a camel, and clings to it as best he can. In the tent he lies surrounded by his friends, who very Jobs comforters- talK to him till he dies. 'Wounds, too, are often fatal, from want of

knowledge or of quiet. The Bedouins have no great appearance of muscular strength, bnt they are singularly active and enduring. They are patient and humane, and seldom allow their passions to pass beyond control, one main reason being their sobriety. No drink stronger than "lebben," or sour milk, is known among them; and they look upon the use of all fermented liquors as disgraceful. Brutal crimes have no place in the catalogue of Bedouin sins. The women are in person proportionately taller than the men; the older of them often become fat and unwieldly; the younger do all the laber of the camp, fetching wood and water, setting and removing tents, milking and cooking. ' They live apart from men, except their nearest relatives, but have plenty of society among themselves. They seem to have good health and good spirits; but in mental qualities the women of the deseit are usually far below the men,- their range of ideas being extremely limited. - ' - - - A CONNKCICUT SLAVE.

A Pension Granted to a Man Who Spent 85 Tears In Servitude. The New Haven Palladium says that the pension office has granted a pension to a man who was born in Connecticut, was bought and sold in Conneticnt, and spent 25 years of his life here as a slave under the laws of Connecticut. ' Old James Mars, of Norfolk, Linchfield county, is the man. He lost a son in the service during the rebellion, and several hundred dollars of 'arrears will doubtless be added to his pension. He never lived anywhere else, excepting a few years he Eassed in Pittsfield, Mass. Some years ago e wrote an autobiography in pamphlet form, to which Dr. John Todd prefixed an introductory note showing the old man's good character and truthfulness. ' The work is not precisely as Addison would have done it, but is, after all, a better adaptation of style to subject than Samuel Johnson would have given us. It is remarkably free from large words, and is a refreshing example of idiomatic English simplicity. His mother was from Loudon county, Virginia, and went from there to Connecticut with her mistress. The mistress married a Connecticut parson, who returned to "Virginia with her in time. The maid-servant followed the example and likewise took a Northern husband. Our old pensioner was born while they were all in Connecticut, but eluded the parson when he emigrated with his Southern wife and the rest of her chattels to her old home in Loudon county. After much trouble in trying to capture him, the parson cut the matter short by selling the boy to a Connecticut man, and so he has remained in the State to this day. The act of the last century by which the Legislature of Connecticut abolished slavery there imposed some conditions as to children under a certain age, so that several years elapsed after the act before Mars became free, making in all 25 years of slave life for him in toe State. Me is now in the neighborhood of 90 years of age. . The Locust. The Hebrews had several sorts of locusts, which are not known to. us. The old historians and modern travelers remark that locusts are very numerous in Africa and many places of Asia) that sometimes they fall like a cloud upon the country, and eat up everything they meet with. Moses describes four sorts ot locusts. Since there was a prohibition against using locusts, it is not to be questioned that these creatures were commonly eaten in Palestine and the neighboring countries. Dr. Shaw, Nieburh, Russell, and many other travelers in the Eastern countries, represent their taste as agreeable, and inform us that they are frequently used for food. Dr. Shaw observes that when they are sprinkled with salt and fried, they are not unlike in taste to our tresh-water cray-nsh. Kussell says the Arabs salt them and eat them as a delicacy. Nieburh also says that they are gathered by the Arabs in great . abundance, dried, and kept for winter provisions. The ravages of the migratory locust have been, at particular times, so extensive as to lay waste the vegetation of whole districts and even kingdoms. In the year 693 ot the Christian era, these insects appeared in such vast numbers as to cause a famine in many countries. Syria and Mesopotamia were overrun by them in 537. In 852 immense swarms took their flight from the Eastern regions into the West, and destroyed all vegetables, not even sparing the bark of trees or the thatch of houses, after devouring the crops of corn, grass, etc. Their daily marches were observed to be about 20 miles each; and it is said that their progress was directed with so much order that there were regular leaders among them, who new first and settled on the spot which was to be visited at the same hour the next day by the whole legion. Their marches were always undertaken at sunrise. In 1141 incredible hosts afflicted Poland, Wallachia, and all the adjoining territories, darkening the sun with their numbers, and ravishing all the fruits of the earth. The years 1747 and 1748 afforded a memorable instance of the ravages of these insects in Germany and other parts of Europe, as far north as England. Cat and Looking-Glass. Nature. Many ; years ago, at Carne farm-house. where relatives of mine were then living, the household cat was observed to enter a bed room in course of being spring cleaned. JThe looking-glass being on the floor, the cat, on entering, was confronted with its own reflec tion, and naturally concluded that he saw before him a real intruder on his domain. Hos tile demonstrations were the result, followed bv a rush to the mirror, and then meeting an obstacle to his vengeance, a fruitless cut round to the rear. I his manoeuvre was more than once repeated with, of course, equal lack of success, Finally, the cat was seen to delib erately walk up to the looking-glass, keepin its eyes on the image, and then, when near enough to the edge, to feel carefully with one paw behind, for the supposed intruder, while with its head twisted round to the front it assured itself ot the nersintenev of the reflec tion. The result of this experiment fully satisfied the cat that he had been the victim of delusion, and never after would he condescend to notice mere reflections, though the trap was more than once laid for him. A man who has the elements so mixed within him that be naturally, as one says, borrows trouble, and crosses bridges before he gets to them, and permits things small or great to fret him, is bound to worry. He may aa well attempt to alter his complexion. or change the thickness of his skin, as to stop worrying. - I he most he can do is to control the expression of his mental state without himself end that is often more wearing to him, however it mcy be to others, than to give vent to his feelings.

: Washing; Dishes. , It is not ' an unusual thing to hear the

mother of a family complain of the time consumed by the homely duty of washing dishes, "My work is never done, she sighs. "No sooner are all the dishes clean than they, must be soiled again. I'm tired of it I Just to think of all the best part of one's life being spent in washing dishes for a half a dozen persons more or less. It is too great a sacriflc." It is a great pity that -those -who have a gift for-higher work, provided there is any "higher work" could .not 'find it out before they take upon themselves wifely duties and family .cares. But let us see about this sacrific of time; for whom do we wash the dishes? For husbands, fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters, and they in return are working for us. In most cases doing all in their power to make our lives comparatively happy. - Would we consider it a sacrifice of time and talents to wait upon any one of them during a long and severe illness, even until, our physical strength was completely exhausted? or would we consider it a sacrifice if we were required to give up life itself to save the family from destruction? Now when we wash dishes, we are adding to the comfort of our loved ones just as much as though we were nursing them through a long and tedious illness. And we have beside their society, and know that they are able to converse with us, advise us when we need counsel, and cheer Us when we are inclined to despondency. Even in this age of progress and radical notions, women must follow their old, old occupation. A Freak of Fashion. Undoubtedly if young ladies, English or otherwise, of high rank or low, wish to tattoo their legs, they have a perfect right to do so, but having indulged in such personal docoration, and the fact is made public, they must not complain if people talk about it. When Liondon journals ot wide circulation, like Truth, and correspondents of dignified American dailies like the New York Times, tell us that it is now the fashion for the London belle to tattoo one of her legs everybody is excusable in wondering how in the name of common-sense such an idea originated. 1 he secret was divulged in an advertisement. A miss, 17 years old, occupying an exalted position in society, ran away from home. They published her in the London Times, and stated that she was tattooed on the left leg. one is thought to have come to America, and as a large reward is offered for information concerning her, be will be a lucky fellow who finds her. The advertisement having started inquiry, it was quickly discovered, or rather asserted, that it was altogether the proper thing for the London girl to tattoo one of her legs, and at this moment it is not considered in the least indelicate to ask one's fair vis-a-vis in a London drawjng-room which one of her legs she has ornamented. Possibly the style is an outgrowth of the elaborate stocking, but whatever is responsible, for it, it is curiously useless and mon strously vulgar. The further the health authorities of New York pursue their investigation of the tene ment houses of that city the worse they hnd things. Some of the late examinations in the 11th ward have brought many pest spots to public attention. In many of these houses v hole families sleep in a single room, where there is not a window, and no other ventilation than such as a door affords; the cellars and adjacent areas usually answer as a re ceptacle for dead cats; nobody ever seems to pay any attention to burst waste-pipes, and sewer gas fills most of the rooms day and night. We hear a great deal more about the dreadful aud dangerous condition of these tenement houses than we do about practical measures to improve them, I he character of the people is so much under the influence of their domestic surroundings that the condition of these houses is a very important matter in more respects than one. Keen foreign observers deservedly give the American people great credit tor the skill they have shown in overcoming difficulties and embarrassments similar to those imposed on ancient European kingdoms. We have had a fearful civil war, enormous National and local debts, manufacturing distresses, a panic of stupendous proportions, and innu merable perils pertaining to advanced civilization have been overcome as rapidly as forests and savages were subdued by our heroic ancestors. Now that a reasonable degree of material prosperity has been reassured, there are few duties more important than the destruction of the most hideous and palpable excrescences of the pervading system of practical politics. It can scarcely be the destiny of this .Republic to suner a large por tion of its ruling power to drift into the con trol of fools and knaves. Many people are born tired or lazy. In the caseof many individuals, it is an inherit ed malady, and consequently hard to oust from the system. But it is oftener the case that tne distinguishing temper is brought on ersons by their own deliberate selnshaess y a vast discreditable disposition to shirk the inevitable burdens incident to living a decent life. Laziness of this kind is one of the cardinal sins, and should submit the ob noxious offender to . the discipline of the treadmill.. More particularly is laziness of fensive to the young and healthy. To learn to work cheerfully, is the central lesson of life. Begin to learn it .early eschew lazi ness as the most disgusting ot all taults, and one that will surely end in hopeless misery, Young man, save some of your strength for old age. It is curious, but true, that bottle of champagne at 20 may intensify the rheumatism of three score. It is a fact, that overtasking the eye at 14 may necessitate the aid of spectacles at 40 instead of 80. We advise our young readers to be saving of their neaun ior ineir oia age, ior me maxim noios good with regard to health as to . moneywaste not, want not. it u the greatest mis take to suppose that any violation of the lawsof health can escape its penalty. .Nature forgives no sin, no error. She lets off the offender for 60 years sometimes, but she catches him at last, and inflicts the punishment just where, just how he feels it the most. Save health as well as money. The Georgia Legislature is making an effort to do away with the custom of wholesale murder in that State by enacting a law which provides that courts must drop all other business to hasten through any murder case that comes before them, and if there is no court in session the judge must call a session and at once try the accused. Such a law as this would be of advantage all over the country 1 wo-tbirds ot the murderers who escape con viction owe their good fortune to the fact that delays are not dangerous, but, on the con trary, a great safeguard which they onp and all seek as the piominent feature of their detense. ,

UTILE BY LITTLE.

Little by little time goes byShort if you sing through it, long if you sigh; Little by 1U tie an hour a day. Gone with the years that hare Tanishsd away; Little by little the race Is rsa. Trouble and waiting and toil are don. Little by little the skies grow clear; Little by little the sun comes near; Little by ll:'e the days smile out Gladder and brighter on pain and doubt; Little by little tbe seed we sow Into a beautiful yield will grow. Little by little tbe world grows strong, Fight'ng the battle of Bight or Wrong; Little by little the Rights has sway; Little by little all longing souls Struggle up near the shining goals. Little by little the good in men Blossoms to beauty for human ken; Little by little the angels see Prophecies better of good to be; Little by little the Ood of all Lifts the world nearer the pleading call. THE MIDNIGHT CRT. BY T. C. HABBAUOH. In the early days of a certain Western State, a crime was committed which has ;ained a place among the annals of dark eeds. It was a murder; but the circum stances surrounding it are so noteworthy that we shall here transcribe them. They present the most remarkable instance of a young man sealing his lips when his own life was in jeopardy, in order to conceal a petty vice the most remarkable instance of the kind on record. One night in March, 1834, a farmer named Buskirk, left a thriving town where, during the day, he had disposed of a lot of hogs. lie rode a sorrel horse, and carried the pro ceeds of his sales in heavy leather saddiebags. The money was mostly in silver coin of the dollar denomination, and the amount. therefore, was quite weighty. Buskirk, a fearless man, did not go armed, but rode uncon cerned from the town a little under the in fluence of liquor, but not drunk enough to call attention to the fact. ' As he lived but 20 miles from the markethe expected to reach home about midnight. JJut when morning dawned Z,imri .Buskirk was still absent from his farm. His horse stood at the stable door neighing for admittance. The well-known saddle-bags were missing, which fact imme diately gave rise to suspicion of foul play, and search for the farmer was at once instituted. ' At a distance of five miles from home the body of Buskirk was found lying by the roadside, and not far away lay thesaudle-bags, rifled of their contents. The villain, in his haste to get at the money had cut his way to it, instead of unbuckling the heavy straps. The farmer was found to be quite dead; one side of his skull had been crushed as if by a blow from a bludgeon, or some murderous weapon of that sort, and his pockets, like the saddle-bags had been despoiled of their contents. The excitement from the moment of the discovery became intense. Ziniri Buskirk was one of the most influential farmers of the neighborhood, and a man universally liked. He was not known to possess an enemy, and no one ever dreamed that the murder had been committed for the sake of anything but that of subsequent plunder. Though the country was scoured for the perpetrator of the deed) no traces were discovered; but a clew was suddenly furnished in a very startling manner. 1 he body of the farmer bad been discov ered not far from a farm house, occupied by a family named Milliken, which consisted of the parents and two children, son and daughter, who had passed their majority. While the excitement still raged, Ellen Milliken came forward and desired to make a state ment which she said had tortured her ever since the night of the murder. She said that she was the posscsser of a guilty secret which she could keep no longer; she could not sleep for it, and it was the spectre for he waking hours. The girl then proceeded to state that she was up at the hour of half past eleven or thereabout, on the night of the th, and that she heard a horse coming down the frosty road irom the direction ot 1 . JNot regarding the sound of any moment, she was about to re-enter the house when she heard an oath, followed by a dull thud and a groan. Then Bhe heard a name uttered twice in a tone of mingled agony and supplication. A moment later the sound of boots came again to her ears, and the horse appeared to be galloping toward the Buskirk farm. 1 he excitement that lol lowed Jliss Alilliken's narration may be imagined, for pen can not describe it. It was believed that the name which she had heard was that of the murderer, which had fallen from the lips of his victim before insensibility or death followed the blow. 1 he young girl visibly hesitated when asked by the magistrate to pronounce the name. She covered her face with her hands, and in all nrobabititv would have fallen if she had not been supported by her brother Hiram. She did not like to utter the name that might doom one of the young men of her acquaintance to tbe gallows, for she could not believe him guilty; she had heard Zimri Buskirk call on him to spare his life on that awful night. Ellen Milliken was pressed to mention the name, and further the ends of justice, in which the whole country was interested, and at last her lips parted. Ood help him, and pity mel ' she said. "The name I heard was Abner Tenny's." If a thunderbolt bad fallen into the breath less crowd, astonishment would cot have been more complete. Men started at tbe name, and women uttered cries that added to the confusion. Standing near the witness was a young man of nve-and-twei.ty, the only son of minister who watched over tbe little flock of believers that worshipped in the church near by, and a vouth of exemplary habits to the outer world. His face was pale as death. and at the mention of the name he started back with a cry, and found the eyes of all fixed upon him. His name was Abner Tenneyl He made no effort to fly, and when strong hands were laid upon him, he would face tbe accusation, The young man was formally arrested on Ellen Milliken's statement and brought to the bar of judgement. He denied the crime, but astonished everybody with his answer to the inquiry concerning his whereabouts on the night of the crime. "I admit that I was not at home, but where I was I will not tell!" This answer was twisted, as it could easily be by. the excited community, into broad strands of guilt, and the young man was remanded by the magistrate for a regular trial at the next term of court. There were a few who believed he might be innocent. When it became generally known that he had been a suitor for Eva Buskirk's hand without the satisfaction of her father, revenge was added to the motive of the mur

der. Ellen Milliken's word was believed; she was a girl of violent passion, but her veracity in this case was not dragged into question. She acknowledged that she loved Abner Tenney hence her reluctance to testify; and after the preliminary examination, she said that she regretted having revealed the secret.

But it was out now, and the young man lying in the country jail reiterated his" innocence, but still he refused to make known his whereabouts and occupation on that night.' It was strange that Ellen Milliken's testi mony should remain uncorroborated in its essential particulars; but there were several parties who had seen the accused near the scene of the crime at late hours of the night. li j : .1 . j i . v. - . .1 "o uiu uuk ueuy tins, out persistently refused to explain his presence there. His father visited him and begged him to un burden himself; but to him he invariably returned the same reply "Were I to tell you, you would feel as badly as though I committed the murder." Ihe young man was visited by many ac quaintances, to whom he would not reveal his secret, and it at last became more than half suspected that he had accomplices who had concealed the money, not one dollar of wbicb as yet, had been found. Ellen Milliken continued to reaffirm her statement. She was confident that she had heard Buskirk call on Abner Tenney in tones that left no doubt on her mind that he had addressed his murderer. As the time for the trial approached, she lost her reluctance, and openly declared that she knew that the sccused had committed the crime. Her brother not having been at home on the night of the murder, was not summoned as a witness. It was known that he had visited the Buskirk homestead as a suitor for Eva's hand, but that of bite he had turned his attention to another lady, to whom he was paying his addresses. The excitement consequent upon : the farmer's violent death and Abner Tenney 's arrest did not for one moment abate during his sojourn in jail. To a young man who visited him he said: Spare me, John. You know where I was that night; you know what I was doing. If I escape this time, I will be a better man. The murder of my honor would send my father to the grave as quickly as the shedding of my blood by the law. Do not come for ward and try to save me by sacrificing my honor I" "They will hang you if you do not tell all," was the reply. "Let us swear to the truth. Do not let Eva believe that you killed ber father." The last sentence drove Abner Tenney to the wall of the cell with a groan. It seemed to unnerve him. Then he cried a moment afterward: "She will never believe itl In her eves I will ever remain guiltless of her father's murder, even though they hang me for the crime." The young man's visitor left, and joined two other men of his age in the corridor of the jail." "What does he say now? was asked, with eagerness. "lie is still obdurate and declares that we must not expose him." "Can we save him without the exposure? "Wemustl We shall!" The trio were youths of respectable parents, but considered fast young men. They had of late been Abner Tenney's companions, much to tbe regret of the few pious people who had observed tbe tamiliantv. "Look here," said one, addressing his com panions, "I hold myself in part responsible for Abner's present situation. We led him into the habits that have tastened themselves upon us. We must save him!" The spokesman of the dissolute party was a young student of medicine, and it was not long afterward that a learned medical gentleman of Cincinnati came to the country. The body of Zimri Buskirk was exhumed and examined. John French stood and watch M the pro fessor. . "You say that she swore to hearing Mr. Buskirk cry out after the thud of two blows ! "So she swore." "The first blow must have produced in stant death. It drove pieces of skull into the brain. A stab in the heart could not prove more instantly fatal thai the initial blow." "That is your opinion?" "I will swear to it." The young man was satisfied, and the body, minus the head, was returned to the grave. "If he will not sacrifice his honor to save his neck I will save it for him, and his father need not know the truth." These words passed from John French's lips as he passed from the house with the professor. From that day the young student and his two friends were not idle. They made many trips from the country, and campared notes on their return. - . ,v The trial came at last, and the accused plead "not guilty." in a firm voice. Ellen Milliken repeated her testimony, so damag ing to tho defence, and adhered to it through a rigorous cross-ouestioning to which she was subjected. She had heard the cries after theblows; she was positive ot ti-at. The other evidence oflered by the btate was merely circumstantial. 1 he defence introduced the nrofo&sor. who exnlained the nature of the wounds, and swore that the first blow had produced instant death." This produced a sensation in the court; it staggered Ellen Milliken testimony, until that hour believed invulnerable. The blows that now followed from the defence were hard and telling ones. &o aubi was attempted, xne accused naa forbidden such a plan, on the ground that it would reveal the secret he was guarding so closely; but the defence became aggressive. It proved that Hiram Milliken, Ellen's brother, was not where he said be was on the night of the murder. As the young man was not under arrest, the court forbade the introduction of such testimony, when John French rose and exclaimed: "I do not accuse him of the murder of Zimri Buskirk! My affidavit is in the courtroom; the sheriff holds it at this moment. Look at the man ! Guilt is written on his face. He is trying to leave the house. Catch him." . The confusion that now ensued was intense. Ellen Milliken. with a loud shriek, fell for ward on the floor, where she was permitted to lie, for all eyes were turned upon her brother. Pistol in hand, the young man was clear ing a path to the door. No one dared to lay hands on him, for he threatened to shoot the first one who touched him, and thus he reached the door leading to the street. On the threshold he paused, and faced the excited occupants of tbe court-room. "You will never put me in Abner Tenney'a

placer he cried. "If I did kill Zimri Buskirk, ' you shall not prove it and hang me!"

1 he next moment there was a loud report, and a human body, after swaying for an in stant, fell heavily upon tbe floor. Hiram Milliken bad taken his own life! This tragic occurrence, as might be sup posed, put an end to -Abner Tenney's trial. It established his innocence in the eyes of all, and the guilty was beyond the punishment of an earthly tribunal. Upon her recovery, JLHen Milliken unfold ed one of the darkest plots on record. She confessed that her testimony was but a tissue of falsehoods; that she knew that her brother had killed the farmer for the purpose of getting his money, and accused young Tenney, in order to prevent him from winning Eva Buskirk. Ellen, piqued at Tenney's refusal to court her, had entered into the plot with revengeful spirit. But the game had failed. : Of course the minister's son was released. and Ellen Milliken left the country two days after. She died several years later in a den' of infamy in the South. Abner lenney led Eva Buskirk to the altar several months after his release, and became one of the solid men of his State. I believe he is still living, but his father, the minister, is dead; and the secret which is guarded so zealously at one time is no longer one. It was simnlv this: Dcsnite the holv in fluences under which he had been raised, he had departed from the paths of rectitude, and became a gambler, along with John Jr rencb and bis companions. On the night of the murder of Mr. Buskirk, the quartet were in the midst of a carouse which the youth refused to-confess for the sake of his father, who nevcrdreamed of his wild life. But John French had saved the young man he had led into vice, and kept him from. the gallows. Tenney's secret was told him after he had made a man of himself; but it puzzles many people who know it not unto this dav. The Croaa-Eyed Children. Dr. Edward G. Loring, In Harper's Magazine. Nobody can tell who has not watched it what an effect a physical deformity has upon the mind and character of a growing child. especially one which detracts in so marked a manner from its personal appearance. It exposes the child to tbe taunts and cruel appellations of its comrades, which, in sensitive children often drives them into solitude, and make them aby and suspicious of strangers, in whom, on the other hand, they excite suspicion. Tbe turn in the eye gives either a wandering, doubting air to the face, or, it me gaze is nxed, a too intense expression, which is disturbing and perplexing, if not downright painful, to the beholder. 1 have known joung boys ot eight and 10 years of ace beg their parents to let them, undergo the pain of an operation to rid themselves of a deformity which subjects them so often to the unfeeling remarks of their elders, usually friends of the family, as well as tbe nneuphonious but expressive titles bestowed upon them by their own contemporaries of google-eye and cock-eye. Nor does this end with childhood. The deformity is a disadvantage to him through life. It pursues him in bis business and in hit profession. Cheated of feature by dis sembling nature, be ii often thought to be dissembling himself wten nothing is further from his thoughts. How often do we hear people say of another, whom we know to be perfectly upright and trustworthy, that they do not like him because he never looks them sqoarely in the face. And it is a little curious that precisely here it is that the lecser flf grees ot tne trouble prod ace toe most effect. That peculiar expression which, people complain so much of is generally due to a deviation n the axes of the eyes a slight convergence which is never very conspicuous, and at times only to be detected by a trained eye, but which, nevertheless, produces in all a very disagreeable impression, although not marked enough to betray its cause. ON A COTTONWOOD TREE. . . 1 V . 1 I A San FVanclxeo Bulletin. Pmirtix. Aoe. 22. Last night, about mid night, John Lsbarrr. a well-known saloon keeper, closed his place of business, and -before going home he went to a saloon across the street and treated the crowd. One man, named McCloekey, not being invited, picked up a quarrel and left the saloon. Returning shortly, be entered the saloon and ran np to Lebarr and first hit bim, and then cut him in the bowels with a large butcher knife. He was taken home and is now lying at the point of death. Tbe doctor says he can not possibly live. This . morning he regained consciousness suffl1 1 t M.n,1f him --Il.nt This morning all the saloons, stores and other places ( business were invited to close, and at about 10 o'clock a law and order committee made its appearance and quietly marched to tbe lall. where they demanded an entrance. Tbe crowd was very large. The outer door of the jail was unlocked, the cell door opened, and McCloskey taken out. John Keller, the man arrested for killing HANGED TO A COTTOXWOOD TBEK. Ropes were tied around their necks, and they were then led down Main street to the plaza, and there hanged to tne umo oi a cov ton wood tree. Keller said it was an old ' grudge. McCloekey said be was drank. Alter the banging, tne captain oi ine commiteesaid the law was too slow, and justice demanded the act. Hs spoke of a number of lawless characters in town, and requested their early departure, or it would prove unhealthy for them. He also gave advice to a well known Mexican, who was accused of inciting a riot among Mexicans because of the killing of Romero last night. Saloons are requested to be kept closed tbe remainder, of the day. Everything is quiet and orderly. There is no drunkenness and no objections are made to the hanging. Everyone quietly dispersed. This morning a merensxt namea morgan arrived from bis station on tbe Gila river, and surrendered himself for killing a Mexican named Jesus Figero. "God's Poor Children" In the Country, rpanbury News. Some of the wealthy people of New York send poor children out of tbe city and into the country for fresh air, fresh milk and a good time. It is a noble charity. A squad of tbe little folks went op to Washington, this State, the other day, as oar readers remember. They were starved for clear sunshine and green fields, and gratefully welcomed the change. The New York people body blesses them, unless he happens to live in VY asningion ana owus a iruit tree, dui the boys enjoy themselves hugely. Tbev have pulled all the green grapes, stoned off tbe premature pear, carried off gates, palled off pickets, scared the cows half to death,:. given nearly every Washington boy a black eye apiccw -wij ;uw . A subscriber writts to ask who wrote the line "A rest for weary sinners found." Now we don't pretend to know, but it strikes us as being a gilt-edged idea to hay 'em arrested whenever they are found.