Pike County Democrat, Volume 10, Number 34, Petersburg, Pike County, 1 January 1880 — Page 1

PIKE COUNTY DEMOCRAT. r PUBLISHED EVEKY THURSDAY. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION i lor one'year...... For six mouths... For three months..... INVARIABLY IX ADVANCE. .$150 . 75 ADVERTISING RATES i One square (SJines), one Insertion.......$1 00 .. Kaclr additional insertion....... 50 A liberal reduction made on advertisements St Tunning three, six, and twelve months. <* Legal and transient advertisements must be paid for in advance. VOLUME X OSe* Is ■eBay’* In B.Udieg, Mai* gfc-tet hot. Sixth and Seventh PIKE COUNTY DEMOCRAT. ALL KINDS OF “OB WORK Exeonted at Reas< uble Kate* NOTICE! PETERSBURG, INDIANA, THURSDAY, JANUARY 1, 1880. NUMBER 34. Persona receiving a copy of the paper with this notice crossed in lead pencil are notillutL. . that the time of their subscription has ex- 1 pired.

THE TEAS, A song! O, a song! cry the people. A song? sighs the poet in iloubt. A song! clang the bells from the steeple. VTell, what shall the song be about? The New Year, the last, and the Never? The sorrow, the Joy and the pain? The New Year, the gath, the Forever? One wearies of singing that strain. One wearies to sing it, or hear it; Change, change, cries a voice in each breast, I am sick of all things, sighs the spirit ; O where is life’s sparkle and zest? 1 would fain sing a song that is gladder. Or tell a tale new and untold; But the years all grow shorter and sadder, And the world it is old—t|,so old! What Solomon uttered before us, Grows truer as centuries run; There is nothing new 'round us or o’er i»— There is nothiug new under the sun. We are sated with pain and with pleasure; We have grazed to the end of our rope; We have heaped up too much in our measure. And now there is nothing to hope. The sense of the weary world’s sameness, r Which oppressed the Philosopher so, / • Its dearth of delights, and their tameness. Our children in pinafores know. With the cares of ourfathers and mothers. We are old at the hour of our birth; With our sins, and the sinning of others, We soon feel as old as the Earth. "Tis an age of fast living and passion; ’Tis an age that laughs loud at control. To be foremost—to be in the fashion— Is the principal thought of each soul. We rush over mountains ami oceans; We live in a w hirlwind of strife; And we use up the strongest emotions Bejpre we are midway in life. A maid going out to her bridal; A mau cursing love as bis bane; A coffin* some tears that are idle, A grave, and a night, and the rain; A morning, the sun shining after;. A Joy that is wordless and sweet; A song, and a ripple of laughter; A beggar-man dead In the street; A ship wrecked at night in deep water; A train plunging swift into death; j And somewhere fields reddened with slaughter. And wounded men gasping for breath; A strife and a straggle for power, A race and a rushing for gold— Both gained and all lost in an hour: And thus is the Year’s story told. —Klla n &ee/er, in Chicago Tribune. AN ODE TO SLEEP. tfSleep! thou blessed-'f£$end to man. For which sail hearts 6fo often pray, Continue human life to scan, And make the night of sorrow day. The Sleep that falls on baby’s face, When laid upon its mother’s breast, .L Locked safe within her fond embrace, A picture seems of perfect rest. The Sleep that closes childhood’s eyes, And makes the dimpled cheeks more fair, Oft ends by kisses of surprise On rosy lips and curling hair. The Sleep that blesses maiden coy. When love dawns on her tender heart, Brings dreams of bliss without alloy— Two wedded souls, no more to part. The Sleep that covers manhood’s brow Gives strength unto his salwart form, Maintains his step behind the plow, And keeps his anvil bright and warm. The Sleep that rests on aged hands, And heads bo wetl down with yearsof care, Brings scenes to view of happy lands Where clouds no more obscure the air. The Sleep of Death, that comes to all, Which God Himself has kindly given, To many proves a welcome call, And ends we fondly hope in Heaven. —Frank Winter, in Kokomo IHspatch.

POOR ROGER. I.—TWO FRIKND3. It was market day in a gray old Bre- ' ton town, full of quaint stone houses. B Hie narrow streets were thronged with ^J^c-ople, and so was the market-jj|aee in ^■the npgcr town, near the church, for *w>VjpWj^yxopie had all turned out to. see the with ujeiV neighbors, and country-folk from all the villages round about, in varied and picturesque costumes, had brought in live and dead wares to sell at the market of Quimperle. Some of the women wore snowy white muslin caps with pointed crowns and broad, wing-like ears, black jackets, and bodices embroidered with many colored silks, and blue or brown, or even emerald green, petticoats. One girl, fast asleep in the church-porch, with a basket of butter beside her, wore a black skirt, and a close white linen cap shaped like a square sugar bag; while in the market itself a woman with a rusty black velvet hood, ending in a cape on her shoulders, was buying a baby’s cap made of velvet and satin embroidered with gold thread and brilliant sprangles. The woman in the hood wore ho stockings; her bare brown feet were stuffed into wooden shoes; but she was, for all that, a farmer's wife from a far-off village, and she was buying a present for her first grandchild, while she stood haggling over the price, she kept a sharp look-out over her shoulder lest the cow she had left in charge of a little boy should escape from his guardian. She had been too busy to notice the loud sound of a drum above the grunts and squealing of the pigs. But as she had paid her money she looked again, and this time she gave a loud outcry. “Oh, my cow! oh, myKerioc! Oh, you good-for-nothing Mathurin, you shall have a beating, safe and sure!” She hurried across the market, and ragged little Mathnrin had disappeared; bnt the pretty small black cow stood where he had left it, and Madame Crozon, tacking its head under her arm, look^gl about for the runaway. She soon saw him in a crowd of other children at the entrance of the pig market; but she saw something eise, too, at which her eyes and mouth opened so ' widely, and in such surprise, that she had nearly let the cow slip its head free again.

me pigs were shu grunting in ineir carts, but there was no longer the same noisy squealing; their owners no longer pulled them out by the tail to exhibit them to possible buyers. Some of them were grunting in the crowd itself, curious to see what was happening. All the men and women seemed to have collected! in the crowd, quite as intent as the children on what was going on in the cirde marked out withm. A man in the blouse and cap of a French peasant, in marked contrast to the long jackets, black hats 01 breeches, and broad _- the Bretons around him, was playing a lively air on the flute, and to this danced, with awkward, 'solemn steps, a huge brown bear, balancing a thick pole. He was such a comical-faced bear. He had little slits of eyes, and he peeped slylv out of them, as much as to say, “ Ana! my fine fellows, this is how we Frenchmen dance; a peg above you, I fancy.” But Madame Crozon did not laugh; she looked round her with a face full of terror. “ He can’t be a bear,” she said; “ he is enchanted; and who knows, he may

w alk round the circle*, pausing now and then with his still empty tin plate. The coal people of" Quimperle had never seen sueh a sight before, and they drew back with one accord. It was one tiling to sej a bear on his hind-legs occupied with dagcing-steps, but toseethe huge brown monster close beside them —ready, the women and children thought, to eat them up at a mouthful— tills was more than they could bear. They ran away as fast as they could, \ slirieking for help. Roger tv rned round and looked at his master—he was doing his part all right, tie poor bear thought. Generally the sous and centimes came rattling into his lit tle plate, and now it was empty. Just at that moment it came into Madame Crozon’s lead that probably the bear hud the power of casting evil-eyed glances, aiid that it would be wise to propitiate him. “Who knows,.” she said, “ that he may not bewitch our little Loto, and give him crooked legs, and a man should never have crooked legs.” She had not gone so far off -as th e other women had—her cow had been in the way of haste—so she turned back, and wejntup to the bear, and bravely put a sou in the battered tin plate. “ It is liecause of Loto,” she said, earnestly. “ You will not now wish him to have crooked legs.” Roger made her a low bow; but this only added to her alarm, and she retreated to a safe distance. But her example was followed; sou after sou diropri into Roger’s plate as he weal slowround that part of the crowd where the men stood. A few of the richer class who were looking bn gave him silver, and so did an artist who had stood sketching the scene. 'Roger’s eyes bliiked still more as the tray grew heavier; and at last he turned from, the crowd and laid the money at his master’s feet. There was an uproarious shout from the crowd, and the flute-player bent down and kissed him on the forehead. “Thanks, good Roger,” he said. “ These are for the little boy at home. Eh? How glad he will be to see thee once more!” — Roger’s eyes blinked, and he g-awe a low , contented growl; but the poor bear was very tired and foot-sore. H e and his master had been traveling for days, and often part of the nights as well, and since they had entered Brittany there had been weeks of heavv rain, s.nd thev

naiL missel me eomtortaoie barns and sheltering out-buildipgs of the Norman farm-houses. The bear's master, Joseph Lebas, hail been always hospitably welcomed; bat the farmers and cott agers had shrunk back at the sight of a grizzly brown bes.r. No one would admit, poor Rojrer into the one stable where a, cow anti pigs, and often a horse as well, herded together under the same n;of as their own-rs; so the poor bear had been forced to sleep on the black oozy mud in Itont o:: the house itself, with seldom a hit of st raw under him. And it was on this aceoi nt that Joseph had traveled so much at night; for he thought if his bear must lie on the damp ground, iit had better be in daylight, when there was jus; a chance of sunshine. J oseph fastened a chain to the laear's collar, and then he begged one it the understand French, and Joseph could not speak Breton; and although the fluts-player’s gestures plainly toll his meaning,the farmer shrugged his shoulders, and peering out of his nsirrow black eye;i through the long hair that nearly reached his waist, he gave the bear such a piercing glance of dislike that Joseph turned away and. went sorrowfully back to the path beside the river where he had rested a little the ! night before. “My poor Roger! ” he said; “if! these foolish people only knew thee and j thy good, kind temper, they would wel-! come thee at onee, and give thee » seat i beside the hearth in their rough dwell- j ings. Never mind, old friend! Our; wanderings here will soon be dons , and ; then we will go back to the good wife j and to ISerrot, and thou shalt have j plenty o:E straw and dry fern to rest; on.” The bear moved his head from side to side, and again he gave alow, satisfied growl; the name Pierrot had evidently some special eharmfor him.; but his pace ;|rew slower and slower, and when hir master stopped beside the river, he lay down at once, quite exhausted. This grassy nook beside the river was slut in, by a long,low hedge and s; gate, from the highroad. Joseph did not venture to leave his faithful friend while he slept, lest he should be teased or irritated by some of the barefooted children of Quimperle, so he leaned ajrainst (he gate and smoked his pipe. All at once Roger snorted, and then he coughed and awoke. Joseph had never heard his besvr cough before, and he felt alarmed. He went back w Roger and felt his nose; it was dry and burning, and his poor swollen feet felt hot as coals.

dosepii went to tne DnnK or toe nver, bordered here by rushes and talli kingferns with full brown tassels of blossom, and filling his tin plate with water, he knelt down and bathed Roger’s feet. Eiut the bear drew them away, and began to shiver violently.- Joseph threw himself beside him and put both arms around he creature’s neck. “Cone, old comrade,” he criiisd, “do rot fall ill before we set out on our home journey; think how much belief Inline trill nmse thee than 1 can, arid Pierrot —why, Roger, Pierrot will not forgive thee for being sick away from him.” Again the bear growled softly; it tieemed as if a smile showed in his blinking eyes at the name of his little friend. II.—A. WEARY JOURNEY., Weel s have gone by, but Joseph and Koger have not yet reached the cottage beside i.he Isere—the pretty home that Joseph dreams about, with its vine-cov-ered bills, and olive groves, and orchards, and the. river that washes the feet of castle-crowned rocks. Roger seemed to get better, and so Joseph went on from town to town, playing his flute, and showing off his bear’s wonderful antics. And now they were everywhere welcomed. Roger’s fame had preceded him, and the tin plate was heavily filled more than once a day jis they wandered on from town to village, sometimes giving , a dance before the windows of some retired country house; and here little child ren would come out and pat Roger’s grizzly sides in timid wonder. But when night came it was the old stoiy—no one would shelter a bear. Joseph did not often desert his friend, but still he was glad to get a night’ll lodging now and then. But they traveled slowly, for Roger was so often foot-sore now. Sometimes master and lrcs.r would all through the short summer and when daylight crane they _rest all day, sometimes bn a wild heath strewn with granite rocks of all shapes and sizes, sometimes: dm a pleastravel night, would

ant grassy bank beside a sparkling river, where Joseph would catch fish enough for two days’ provender. One morning they reached a charm* ing spot: They had been nlaking .a long round, and it seemed to Joseph that they could not be very far from Quimperle. A bright, dashing river was crossed by a bridge; on one side rose up dark lulls covered with trees; on the other were pleasant grassed banks sloping up to a village, of stone one-storiea houses, dotted here and1' there between the spreading fan-like branches of Spanish chestnntntrees. The sun was burning hot, though it was yet early, and the leafy shade which the huge trees flung in masses tieaeath them, flecked here and there with gold as some inquisitive sunbeams peeped down between the leaves, was delightful to our tired travelers. There was a surfeited, sleepy air about the village, too, which was in itself restful. Women stood spinning from a distaff under the round low-browed doorways, cocks and hens crowed and clucked sg they picked tip the grain in front of a farm-noush, where a day before com had beta threshed by band. A little way up the scattered street of houses was aR opening, and here stood a tall stone cross, ami behind it, some little way down the sloping path, was the village church. But the sight of Roger had scared some of the leisure from the peaceful scene. The little calico-capped children opened their large bright brown eyes widely when they saw Joseph coming slowly along, and smiled at him. But all at once came a strange sound, something between a groan and a growl. At this the children fled and hid their faces in their mothers’ skiirts with shrill outcries of fear, whiph grew louder when, peeping out, they saw that the quiet looking Frenchman was followed by a monstrous shaggy beast, shaking his sides and coughing as he walked^ and glaring hungrily out of his red little eyes. The mothers gave an outcry, and backed into their houses, keeping their children behind them, after the manner of a hen with her chickens at sight of a hawk. Joseph sighed; he was tired and thirsty, lie had let Roger drink at the river's brink, but he had hoped to get a draught of buttermilk at one of the cottages; but he knew it was useless now, so he turned aside by the cross and went slowly down toward the church. , >

“Ah, the monster!” cried the woman in the nearest cottage, as she peeped timidly from the window. “ He is going to stable his wild beast in the church. Was ever such'a villain!” But poor Joseph never thought of such a thing; and when presently he saw the cure coming along, with’ his open breviary in his hand, reading as he walked along in the pleasant shade of the chestnut-trees, Joseph thought, “ Here is a good man, I am sure, ana he will tell me the day of the month, and advise me about Roger.” Joseph could play music, and could imitate wonderfully any tune he heard for the first time, but this was all the knowledge the poor fellow had. He could not read or write, and he had lost couid of time since he had grown anxious about Roger. For lately he had been very anxious. It sagmad to Kim. W- aww ■<frfftwdweeks now since the^oor beast had been well enough to dance, and they traveled at a snail's pace now—not more than an hour at a time, with long rests between—and all day they lay quiet in the snuggest place they could find. The cure had reached them by this time, and he stopped when he saw Roger. Joseph pulled off his hat and made a low bow. “1 ask pardon, reverend sir,” he said, “ but will you of your charity tell me what day of the month it is, and also what is the best medicine for the cough of a bear? Do not fear my Roger, Monsieur le Cure,” for the cure had shrunk back; “Roger is an excellent beast, who will harm no one—see how he suffers.” ' At this moment the poor bear had so violent a fit of coughing that he sank down and lay panting on the ground The cure looked compassionate; he had a mild, pink face, hishair was snow white, but his eyes were blue and full of tenderness. L “ Poor beast ”—he had quite forgotten his fear in his pity for Roger—1“ how he suffers! This is sad for Mm, and for you, my good friend. Are you far from home?” “Yes, yes, monsieur,” said Joseph; “I do not know, how many leagues away. Our home is on the banks of the Isere.” The good priest lifted up his hands in wonder. “And have you come all that way afoot—in such hot weather, too?” He took off Ms hat, and wiped his face with a large, blue-checked pocket-ha ndker- ! chief. “ Ah, sir, we must travel afoot. Ko driver would carry Roger. I can get no shelter for him.” And poor Joseph had to wipe away his tears/with the sleeves of Ms blonse; then, seeing that the cure was still listening, he went on,But it is long since we left our country, sir. I

imutw iL wjw in iuoruii, iui we iuuuu snow on the ground as we came northward, though in our country we 'had only seen; it on the mountain-tops. We have wandered in Auvergne and in Burgundy, in Touraine and in Normandy. Ah, sir, we fared better everywhere than in this country, where it always rains. But for my poor Roger's illness we had begun our journey home.” The old cure shook his head. “ Tour poor bear cau not travel,” he said. “ I fear his journeys are over, poor fellow. Is it possible that you have been traveling on foot from March till now? Why, we are in September, my poor man. HowTiomesick you must be!” Joseph wiped his eyes again, for the cure’s kind words called up vividly the memory of his wife, Liline, and his dear little boy, Pierrot. Ah! should he ever see them again, and how could he go back to them without Roger! He for-, got the cure—every thing but his dear dumb suffering friend—and, flinging himself on the ground beside Roger, he i flung both arms rbund him and sobbed aloud. Roger rawed one paw and laid it gently on his master, and then he feebly tried to lick the sleeveof his coat. The cure took out his handkerchief again and vigorously blew his nose. “ This is most unfortunate,” he said, Then, nodding to Joseph, he said, “Wait here for me, my poor friend;” and then he hurried back to the presbytery as fast as his thin legs could carry him. Much against her will he persuaded his house-keeper to give up a disused cow-house to Joseph, and he set his gardnerto sweep it out, and litter down some clean straw in a corner for the sick bear. The old woman grumbled and shrugged her shoulders; but thought the cure was gentle, no one could be firmer than he when right required Mm to assert himself; aim very

_he went back to Joseph, end helped him to bring poor Roger to his shelter. Then the Core, who, Hke many another country clergyman, was a good doctor, brewed anugepot of herb tea, and when Roger had neen got with some trouble to swallow this, he gave Joseph a thick horse-cloth to wrap round him. Joseph sat on the gronnd beside^ his faithful friend. He tried to be grateful to the good cure, bat his grief choked his words; he seemed turned to stone; for he had never realized how ill Roger was tall he saw him rink down in that terrible coughing fit; and now, as he looked at him and saw the terrible change, the glazing eyes and stiffening limbs of his old comrade, something whispered that Roger was dying. Dying! Just when he had got for him the comforts he had so longed to, give him; just when he was taking home >i sum—all Roger’s earnings, too—< which would have saved the need of going so "far front home for many a month to come! ■< “Oh, my pobr Roger!’? He chafttd the clammy paws between his hands; bnt the persistent chill struck the truth into his heart. It was too late; no earthly care, no lavishuess of humkn tenderness, could ever more help Roger. But the bear was not stupefied by'Haw chill numbness that was spreading over his body. From time to time Joseph moved, either to draw the wrappings more closely over his sick friend or to moisten the swollen tongue with liquid, and then Roger’s eyes followed his master as if he could not bear to lose sight of him. He moated frequently, and this was the only sound that broke the silence. But now, when Joseph tried to raise the bear's head, so as to make his straw pillow softer, the poor swollen tongue licked his hands. Then Joseph Lebas fairly broke down. The cure ana his housekeeper had both left them for the night, having put him a lamp and some snpper, which the poor fellow left untasted. He laid his Cheek against Roger’s, and sobbed as if his heart was breaking. “Oh, mv friend, my comrade!” he cried, “ tnou who hast taught me so much, so many lessons, my precious Roger, of patience and humility! forgive me, old companion, that I did not sooner discover how serious was thy malady. Who knows—only God—” he said, rev

erently, “ but it may be that if we had come this way sooner, the timely suceor might hare saved thee. Ah* my Roger, I had planned snch a pleasant life for thee—no more long journeys, no more absences* from home. There is money now enough to buy a bit of ground, and tools and wood too, and I can be a carSenter the rest of my days, and grow emp and corn, Roger.” The bear moaned and moved more restlessly than before. “ Yes, yes; I know thou sayest what is that to thee now thou art going to die; and if there be a paradise for dumb beasts, thou wilt surely be crowned there, my Roger. Yes, yes; as the good cure said; but now my sor. row is selfish; but I can not help it, my. friend. What shall I say to Pianot, Roger? How can I comfort him tor the loss of his kind friend?” *•’" sAt the word growl -quite no sound from the long-drawn-out moans which have shaken nis poor body. For an instant Joseph’s lips part in joyful surprise. Can it be that his dear friend will recover, after all? And then the eyes close, the limbs are stretched ont, and he knows that Roger will never wake again. III.—JOSEPH'S COTTAGE. It wants a week to Christmas. Till now there has been no snow; the weather is crisp and bracing in the north, and even beside the Isere it is far less mild than it has been. On the sunny side of the lovely valley a little boy was standing at the door of a small cottage wreathed with an overgrowth of brown vine 'branches; within a fence a little cabbage gardeu was bordered ^White and red with tulips and narcissus ; but the ground looked neglected; it seemed as if the flowers had come of themselves, so irregularly were they planted. Fields of growing corn and other products were everywhere in the fertile valley, and above these rose dark woods ana lofty Alpine crags, - high above the river. Beside the cottage door sat an ugly brown mongrel, giving impatient looks at its little master. “ Mother”—the boy’s face was turned to the cottage door, so that one only saw a head of curly gold as the sun shone on it—mother, will father ever come? I look for him every day since Michaelmas.” Inside the low-roofed cottage a' pale young woman, much wrapped in a shawl, sat rocking a little cradle. “ Yes, yes, Pierrot; your father will come. You must look for him every The little^ellow clapped his hands, and turned round such a merry face— short and broad, like his sturdy little body, with bright laughing blue eyes, a pair of roguish red lips, and a turn-up nose. It seemed as if he had stood in the sun to ripen, for he had a skin like a

golden pippin. “Mother”—he had been running a race with thi ugly brown mongrel since his mother spoke—“ how soon wall bahm run races with me; he's not luuck^fl now.” He gave a discontented IcS toward the cradle. Then, as his motW er did not answer, he chattered o^ “ Mother, why did you call baby Roger? He will never be so nice as Roger is. Roger is big and strong, and carries me qn his back, and lies down when I bid him. Mother, I want Roger. I am sad without him.” The mother's pale lace flushed. She bent over the cradle and kissed the little sleeper. She was very good and gentle, but she was not clever, and Pierrdt’s words troubled her. *• Roger is a good beast, Pierrot,” she said; “ but he is only a beast; he can never be thy brother. Look you, my darling, this little Roger will play with you and love von, ana he will talk to you, too, my Pierrot; and,” she added, eagerly, as a new thought came, “ you can do more for the little Roger than you can for the big one. Believe me, child, it is sweeter to love and care for others than to be loved one’s self.” “Is it?” Pierrot looked doubtful. “Well, I shall see about that. Now, may I go to the edtt of the road and see if father is coming? ” He came back, as he had come so often, shaking his golden head; but today his eyes were full of tears. He so longed for his father, and for the old friend who had been his paly fellow as long as he could remember. It is Christmas Eve, and although Inline keeps a brave heart, and will never listen to her neighbors’ doubts and surmises, her heart sinks as she thinks of Christmas Day without Joseph. He left herjust after Easter, and she so longs to show him the new treasure that has come to her in his absence—

her beautiful baby. She has named it Roger; for she thinks that will please her husband, and Liline never thicks about her own choice in any thing. She has not so m any household cares fen?, to-morrow's festival as an English mother would have. Christinas is to Liline the birthday of the Lord, and therefore the special festival of all little children; And her chief care has been to sew a new coat for Pierrot, and to make him 'a bright red flannel cap, which suits bis golden curls rarefy. She is trying this on, while Pierrot fidgets under her thin fingers. > “Mother! mother! be quick!” the sturdy rosy fellow says, as he looks impatiently through the tangle of yellow curls; “this is just when I always go np the road to where father said 1 was to look for him; and suppose he came and did not find me?” They had both been too busy to look toward the door; but now a deep voice that had a sob in it ?aid, “ And he is come. ” And there was Joseph Lebas, with tears in his eyes and a radiant smile on his lips, as he clasped wife and child together in his arms. He did not see the cradle, and Liline's pale face filled him with dismay. But he stood there silent, holding her to his heart. — “ And Roger, father, where have you pat Roger?” Pierrot was tugging impatiently at his father's blouse. Tears swam in Joseph's eyes. He stooped and took his little son in his arms. i “Roger is dead,” he said, gravefy; : “ and I nearly died too. Yes, my Liline, I never thought to see thee again. Bnt for that thou wcmldst have seen me long ago. Ah! well mayst thou weep!” ; for Lilme had begun to cry, and Pierrot flung himself on the floor, howling at 1 his rather's news. “ It has well nigh broken my heart, dear wife, to lose my i dear old comrade.” Liline looked at her husband, and when she saw the tears rolling down his cheeks—saw, too, how worn and sad his face was—she wiped her eyes and smiled, as she bent (town to the cradle. “ Be comforted, dear husband,” she said, as she put the soft roll of flannel into his arms. “ God has sent you another Roger this Christmas-tide.”— Katharine 8. Macquml.

An Idlwt Boy with a Memory. The Pennsylvania State Training School for feeble-minded children, at Media, has just been visited by a correspondent of the Springfield Republican. He found over three hundred young idiots under treatment calculated to make them stronger in mind and body. There are scueal-rooms holding from twenty to thirty pupils each. In the more advanced classes reading, writing, arithmetic and geography are taught. In the kindergarten the visitor saw small ehBdren modeling in day, building block houses and waavyw naper into fanciful shapes. Cas-\< vSJSS Is thus that,*, “ The trite saying itlM*. stood wm out' is exemplified in i*ae idiot savant, who'is never found HMMg-thcrltnreT orders. A curious Ipssfeof this kind is reckoned among the pupils of this school. SJ ivuaffffiRr are his powers of memory that after listening to a sermon or other discourse he is able to repeat it, verbatim, preserving, also, the intonations of the speaker. As a test of this singular faculty the lad was once taken to Media to attend a lecture upon some scientific matter, and the next day was asked to repeat it. To the astonishment of all he readily repeated the entire lecture, rendering Latin phrases and technicalities as glibly as the vernacular; yet in his mentality the reflective power was dull and feeble, and he was unable to convert into practical sense the knowledge he so lightly acquired.”_ The latest product to which California soil has been found well adapted is opium, of whieh a superb quality, mueh superior to the opium of commerce, has been raised in the Sonoma Valley. The only obstacle to its cultivation is the fact that labor costs more than in the Orient, but that is offset by the better quality of the domestic article, and the absence of heavy duties. There seems to be hardly any product of the earth that can not be raised in some part of the Golden State. Tea, figs, oranges, lemons, bananas, olives, dates, even the cinchona tree and poppy plant grow there along with the fruits and vegetables of temperate climes. The Sandusky Register, in its annual review of the vineyard production of Northern Ohio, says that of the million and a half gallons of wine that was made there this season, less than a. million gallons of grape juice was used. It adds that dealers make no secret of the fact that they use spirits, sugar and water largely in the production of wine, and claim that this is done, not so much to make money as to suit the taste of their patrons, who prefer the adulterated product to the pure article.

D eath was desired by a woman at Greensboro, N. C., and she deeided to accomplish it by drowning. Clasping the pmnp log, she slid slowly down into — well. The distance was 45 feet, and ire reaching the water she evidently nted of her act. The imprint of w rs and shoes shows that she tostay her course; but the wood was slippery, and she conld net save herself. Josephine Taylor, aged 22, daughter of the President of the Mormon Church, attempted to escape from Utah and her father’s harem, the other day. She got on a Union Pacific train, but having no ticket or money, was put off at the first station east. Sne endeavored to get the agent at Uintah to secrete her, but he refused, and her fathers friends being notified, she was taken back to Salt Lake. A lady writes an indignant note to a contemporary, in which, with true rustic innocence, she expresses a belief that editors never go to Heaven. We thought even country people knew that journalists never went anywhere. They don’t St the chance. They just sit up nights inking how to do good, until the tops of their heads wear holes through their hair.—Binghamton Democrat. The largest income taxes paid to the Prussian National Exchequer are as follows: Carl Meyer von Rothschild, 70,200 marks; Willy von Rothschild, 68,400; Herr Krupp, 67,600; Herr Bleichroder, the Berlin banker, 82,400, and Herr Oppenheim of Cologne, 25,200. The mark is nearly 25 cents. An English woman, now in New York Cnaf, has ordered at Tiffany’s a bangle bracelet which is to cost the comfortable sum of $40,000. It is made like the bangles of the harem, of beaten gold, and is set with every known jewel.

CURRENT EVENTS. An official dispatch from Los Pinos, via Lake City, Colo., 22d, says that Ouray has just come iti. He informs the Commissioners that he has been nnable to obtain the surrender of the Indians demanded, that the war party is in the ascendant, and that he (Ouray) is ready to join tire troops in an offensive movement against Douglass and his tribe. A later dispatch says that the Indians subsequently agreed to deliver up as prisoners the individuals named by the Commission. An immense Republican indignation meeting was held at Bangor, Me., on the night of the 19th, to protest against the alleged fraudulent counting out of Republican members of the Legislature by the Democratic Governor and Council. Ex-Gov. Connor presided and Senator Blaine made a speech. —^Governor Garcelon of Maine has published a defense of the action of the State Executive and Council in their official capacity as final canvassers of the vote of the State, by which a number of Republicans apparently chosen by the popular vote have been counted out on account of informalities and irregularities in the election and in the returns and the opposition candidates declared elected. The pith of the Governor’3 explanation is that the result was obtained by a strict observance of the provisions of the Constitution and the- statutes governing the case, and that in refusing to permit the “substitution, alteration or unauthorized amendments of the returns transmitted to the Legislature for their final action,” they were fortified by the opinions of the Supreme Court and other competent legal authorities. —Great excitement existed at Bangor, Me., on Christmas Day, caused by the attempted removal of arms and ammunition from the State Arsenal in that city, to Augusta, the Capital, by order of Governor Garcelon. Two drays loaded with war'material, were stopped by the crowd on the way to the railroad depot and the drivers compelled to return to the Arsenal.

jluc nuus« Lommutee on i^aucation and Labor have agreed upon the bill introduced by Representative Goode, last sessiefl, providing that the hefNCS=ceipts of the sale of public lands spall be forever consecrated and set apart for education of the people. A delegation from the Cherokee Nmjoojnted by the National Connagain^ all scho-«-^ tonal Government to the Indian Territory. _. •''■vtS8k^ - The British troops in Afghanistan are evideritiy~h>-» most serious predicament. Gen. Roberts, with 7,000 troops, is cooped up in the cantonments at Shirpur and all his communications are cnt off. The cantonments are surround ed by a. high brick wall, loopholed, with an onter ditch, and it is claimed can be successfully defended against any attacking force that the enemy may bring to bear against them. Reinforcements from Jellelabad and Gundamnk had been sent to the relief of Gen. Roberts, and the result was looked for with the greatest anxiety. —A Lahore dispatch of the 25th announced that Gen. Gough had joined Gen. Roberts without opposition. The St. Louis Globe-Democrat of the 20th said there were at that date from 150 to 160 destitute colored emigrants, bound for Kansas, stranded in that eity, many of them virtually on the verge of starvation, and what was still worse, from 5,000 to 6,000 others were reported en mite and expected to arrive within a few days. The local Colored Relief Board is not only entirely without funds, but is several hundred dollars in debt, and the prospective suffering of the helpless negroes is somewhat appalling. Edison told a Herald reporter on the 15th that the advertised exhibition of his electric light at Menlo Park on Christmas Eve would not come off, and that he never promised it would. He says it is all completed, howeyer,-and that public exhibition will doubtless be made at ap early day, probably on New Year’s.

George W. Childs of the Philadelphia ledger, probably Gen. Grant’s most intimate personal friend, is authority for the statement that Gen. Grant is not interested ig the Nic&rauguan Canal project and has no intention of accepting the Presidency of the company. The steamer Borussia, which left Liverpool, Nov. 20, for New Orleans, with 234 persons on board, passengers, officers and crew, met with very severe weather soon after leaving port andi sprang a leak so badly that on the 2d of December, w hen about 350 miles southwest of Fayal, it was found necessary to abandon her. The larger portion of the passengers with a number of the crew were placed in boats and upon rafts, and of these only one boatful, nine in all, had been heard from. These were picked up and landed at Queenstown, Dee. 20. It is their opinion that all the rest of the passengers and crew have been lost. The Captain and most of the crew remained with the vessel, which is believed to have gone down the same night the ■ boats left, as her lights suddenly disappeared from their view. The Secretary of the Interior has rendered a decision that, whenever, prior to patenting, it is discovered that land previously offered and entered as agricultural is really mineral in its character, ihe entry must be canceled and the land reserved for the entry under laws specially applicable to mining lands. South Carolina has another new Governor. Wade Hampton went to the Senate and Lieut.-Gov. Simpson took

Ms plaice. Simpson now takes a scat on the Supreme Bench as Chief Justice, and State Senator T. B. Jeter goes into the Executive Office., XXW»IKBRLKJ^ The body of a young man named Charles MeCreery, son of Janies McCreery, a wealthy New York merchant, was cremated at the LeMoyne Crematory at Washington, Pi*., on Dec. 16. Young McCreery died of consumption, and this disposal of his remains was made by his parents in deference to the oft repeated requests of their son, who had a horror of being buried. An attempt was made to prevent publicity of the facts, and it took the keen-scented newspaper reporters several days to establish the identity of the cremate©. Hrew Holloway, colored, was hanged at Statesboro, Ga., bn the 19!h. for the murder of Benson Brawn, alsoatolored, on Christmas Eve, 18K. John Dean was hanged at Estelleville, Va., on the 19th, for the murder of Henry Forgote, fn June, 1817. Both the murderer and lais victim were respectable farmers, and the shooting grew out of an old feud. Frank Baker was hanged at Sussex CourtHouse, Va., on the 19th, for the murder of Henrietta Shands and her 18-incnths-old child its August last. All the parties were colored. William McKee, senior proprietor of the St. Louis (flobe-ltemocrat, died suddenly on the morning of the 20th. The Bank of Virginia, at Virginia, Nevada, suspended payment on the 18th. Reported cause, carrying too much mining stocks. At Richmond, Ky., bh the 19th, yon. R. E. Little was shot four times and killed by James H. Arnold. The parties were Broth-ers-in-law, having married the daughters of the late Mrs. Mary L. Hood, a very wealthy lady. After Mrs. Hood’s decease trouble arose out of the division of her property, and for some time Little and Arnold had not been on speaking terms. The shooting took place in Little’s law ofliee, and the wounded man lived Just long enough to declare that it was entirely without provocation. Arnold Says that Little threatened him and made amove to draw a pistol,which he anticipated by shooting him first. Arnold is a merchant, very widely known. The dwelling-house of Ezra Conklin, at

ju. tvas t'a uy nre on *)» morning of the I8th. Mrs. Maria Miller, aged 80 years, and her brother, Edward King, aged 70, perished in the flames. Four men were instantly hilled and three seriously wounded by an accidental explosion of nitro-gtveerine near Rat Portage, on the Canada Pacific Railroad, on the iSth. The steamboat.Maggie Baker, just arrived at Mobile from Montgomery, Ala,, was burned to the water’s edge on the 30th. Eleven hundred bates of cotton were de-defers-or damaged by water. Boat and cargo fully insured. Parnell and Dillon sailed for America on the 31st, to pse their influence In semiring assistance for the relief of the distressed in Ireland. They had quite an ovation prior to their departutv from Queenstown.' J m Frewsfc Minfatry have resigned and De Hiriliii il in .been intrusted with the **» .. w*~ ", ,,vC -- jra ttfe 1>y tSw burning oftds mil! on the 80th. Mrs. Stone is ere nett with trriopst her husband’s terrible death. s Jt . The High Behoof building at Milwaukee' Wis., was totally destroyed by fire on the night of the 21st. Loss about $10,000. On the same night the extensive brewery, malthouse, etc., of P. Best were also burned. The latter loss, including grain in store, will aggregate about $230,000 to $300,000, fully insured. The large corset and suspender factory of West, BradleyCary, on West Twentyninth Street, New York, burned on the night of the 22d. Twenty women were in the buiidiug and barely escaped with tbeir lives. Four of them were severely injured by jumping from the windows, and two firemen were badly hurt by falling debris. The Republican members of the Tennessee Legislature have formally adopted a resolution in favor of Gen. Grant for the Presidency. Two Irish lads, Edward Harvey and James McGee, peddlers of dry-goods, were Wurdered on the night of the 19th near Jeruigan, Russell County, Ala., and their I bodies thrown into the Chattanooga I River. The murder was discovered the next day, when two negroes were arrested. These confessed, implicating two others. A large crowd of whites and blacks assembled on the following day, Sunday, and decided to hang the two murderers, which was done forthwith. They displayed a sullen indifference, and asked no mercy. The two others implicated had not been arrested at latest accounts. BeLessepsis to have a grand reception at Panama, upon his arrival, under the auspices of the local Government. He will visit the United States by way of California. Wade Hampton, Jr., son id Senator Hampton of South Carolina, died at his plantation, near Greenville, on the 23d, of a malarial disease. He had been ill but a few days. He leaves a young wife, to whom he had been married but a short time. Matthew Gleason’s house at Ayerstown, N. J,, burned on the night of the 23d and his three children perished in the flames. The revolutionary army entered San Domingo on the 17th of November, President

uuuiermo naviog previously uea. veace-nas been entirely restored. It. is developed by the evidence of one of the bankrupt dry-goods firm of Stettauer Brothers, Chicago, that the various individuals composing the firm had lost, since the spring of 1878, nearly $150,000 by speculations in grain and provisions. A most horrible murder occurred at Delphos, O., at an early hour on Christmas morning, the victim, Mr. Bernard B. Picker, being a well-to-do and estimable German citizen, residing nearly in the center of the city. Mrs. Picker gives the following account of the affair: “My husband was aroused from his slumbers by a heavy knocking at the front door. Getting up he opened the door fearlessly, and was instantly seized by three masked men, whe demanded bis money or his life. He, heedless of their threats, made a desperate resistance, and was only- overpowered when be was shot through the head by one of the ruffians ahd instantly killed. I rushed from the bed to~ assist my husband, and was seized and threatened with the same fate. I, however, screamed at the top of my voice, but was finally overpowered by being tied and gagged . They again demanded the money and I refused, and then they placed me against a red-hot stove and tortured me so badly that I could not endure any more pain, and I finally gave them the money, amounting to fifteen hundred dollars in currency, the savings of years. They then took their departure.” Mrs. Picker’s injuries were quite serious, aud possibly fatal. At i Christmas-tree festival in the M. E. Church at Pataskaia, O., a young man named George Lynn, who personated Santa Claus, was dressed in a costume covered with loose cotton. In some manner the cotton caught fire and young Lynn was very badlj burned before it could be extinguished. Th< affair caused a panic in the church and sev era! people were in}o Willis Hail, the mate

College, Northfield, Minn., was burned on the 33d. Loss, |50,000; insurance, $17,800. The severest weather known lor years prevailed throughout Minnesota Just b 'fore Christmas, the range ol the thermometer be- * ing reported at from 15 to 58 degrees below zero. The weather throughout the Pacific slope has also been almost unprecedentedly cold. Stock has suffered severely and there has been some damage to fruit. CONGRESSIONAL PROCEEDINGS. Dec. 19.—Senate—The Vice-President appointed Messrs. Voorhees, Vance, Pendleton, Win do m and Blaine as a committee to investigate the causes ot the negro emigration from Southern to Northern States, and the Senate adlourned... House—Mr. Blackburn (».. Ky.), from the Committee on Rules, submitted a unanimous report on the revision of the rules. Consideration of the report is made the speeiaiorder for thetith of January, and front day tollavthereaftor, to the exclusion of every other order. The Speaker appointed the following committee oh the Inter-oceanic Canal: Messrs. King. Singleton, Whitthorne, Martin, Turner, Mchoifet, Hutchins, Page, Conger, Pry and Haskell. The President submilted a brief message in reference to Improvements in the District of Columbia. The House then adjourned. Edison’s Nov Electric Light. Nkw York, Deo. 21.—The .aera'd dovotes » page to Edison's triumph in electric humiliation, giving a full and accurate account of his work from its inception to its completion, with illustrative diagrams. The Herald says: 4 The first public exhibition of Edison’s long-looked for electric light takes place New leart evening at Menlo Park, on whieh occasion that place wilt be illuminated with the new light. The new light, incredible aa it may appear, is produced from a little piece of paper—a tiny strip of paper that a breath would blow away. Through this little strip of paper is passed an electric current, and the result is a bright, beautiful, mellow light. “ But the paper instantly bums even under the trilling heat of a tallow candle,” exclaims the skeptic, * and how, then, can it withstand the fierce heat of ai^electric earrent f” Very true. But Kdifl makes the little piece of paper more infusible than platinum, more durable than granite, and this involves no complicated process. The paper is merely baked in an oven uutiMta elements have passed away, except its carbon frame-work. The latter4s placed In a glass globe connected with wires leading to an electricity-producing machine and the air exhausted from the globe. Then the apparatus is ready to give out a

"***• vu«( |uvuun» uu ueieienous gases, no smoke.no offensive odors, a tight without name, without danger, requiring no matches to ignite, giving out but little heat, vitiating no air and free from all flickering—a light that is a little globe of sunshine, and this light the inventor claims can be produced cheaper than that from the cheapest oil. The inventor Suds that the electricity can be regulated with entire reliability at a central station Just as the pressure of gas Is now* regulated. The entire cost of construct iuar the lamp Is not more than 3a cents. A Cwsatoymaa’s Wild LeajT’freBi Moving Elevator, Two men from Illinois—farmers; apparently, sturdily built and ordinarily intelligent—entered the St. Louis Be publican office the other afternoon, about 3 o’clock, and. Wore they left, one of them had erentod a sensation of a decidedly startling nature and afforded one of f o# record of aw look through the building, and were told that they'wonWL.be taken up-stairs upon going to the elevatai^he location of which was pointed out to t'Bfeuf. One of the men Entered the elevator, but the other, for some reason, staved outside. The boy in charge of the elevator closed the door and pulled the rope, starting the thing upward. As the elevator began rising, the man inside leaped to his feet, glared about him in terror, and yelled out, “My God, where am I going? ” He hesitated but an ihstant. 'The elevator was moving slowly, and the transom over the door was st$ visible. In,a desperate eadeav or to. escape, the terrified man threw himself at it head-first, at the same moment that the boy, with rare presence of mind, jumped to the rope and reversed the movement. The action was just iu time; the ascending Elevator caught the passenger’s head between its floor and the casing of the transom, and» pinched it slightly be fore the movement was reversed and the head released. Then the man jerked back and, as the descending elevator showed the glass window in the door beneath, he again plunged forward, head first, and went through like a cannon-ball, striking at length on the floor of tho hall leading to the street amid a -mass of broken sash and shattered glass. Then quick as lightning the terror-stricken being bounded to his feet and out of the hall and up Chestnut Street like the wind, following his only | less terrified companion who had dashed out into the street at the first yell from the elevator. The alarmed countrymen were followed, and at last the man who had leaped through the window was jnduced to come: back and be convinced that the danger he had fled from was imaginary. He was taken to the elevator and its us© explained to him, but he could not .b© persuaded to make a trip in it. He ex-., plained that when he stepped in he had no idea that he was to be “elevated,” evidently thinking the place but the entrance to a stairway. When the elevator began moving ne thought he had fallen into one of the murderous traps

or a great cuy ana was ueiug to be murdered or robbed, or , or to undergo some experience equally horrible—he did not know what, it was in vain that an effort was made to detain him about the place for any length of time. His back hurt him, he said, and he went away, pallid, but wiser. The whole occurrence was something astonishing. A story comes from Tenbury, England, where a menagerie has Been paying a visit, which illustrates the well known character of the elephant for humane feelings in a remarkable degree. Among the animals was a very fine female elephant, called “Lume,” which was attacked with a violent fit of colic, and suffered intensely. A local chemist, whose success as an animal doctor is well known, treated “ Lisaie,” and saved the animal's life. Subse- « on passing the chemist’s shop, phant immediately recognised her benefactor, who whs standing at the1 door of Ins shop, and, going to him, gracefully placed her trrtnk in his hand. The chemist visited the exhibition at night, and met with an unexpected reception from his former patient. Gently seising the “doctor” with her trunk, the elephant encircled him with it, to the terror of the audience, who expect-^ ed to see him crashed to death: but “Lisaie” had no such intention, and after having thus demonstrated her gratitude by acts more eloquent than words, she reHased the doctor from her embrace, and proceeded with, her appointed task._^ t ^ iOOTOR declares tint the ith. Nowwe l