Rensselaer Union and Jasper Republican, Volume 8, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 April 1876 — Page 1

KENBSELAER UNION AND JASPER REPUBLICAN. x>ua> b. sewn. cbabum m. jommbom. HORACE K. JAMIS A CO., PublUb.n and Propriatora, Rensselaer, Jasper County, Indiana. Torino of Subscription i One copy, one yeer, la advance .....ft 00 •Onecopy,six months, In advance..../...., 100 ■One copy, three months, In advance BO Single coplee, & cents each. ~ HTUberal club terms with all the noted Newspapers and Magaslnu of the United States.

MAN AND WOMAN. WHAT MAKKH A MAW? A truthful soul, a loving mind; Full of affection for its kind; A spirit firm, erect and free, That never basely bends a knee; That will not bend a feather's weight Of slavery's chance for small or great; That truly speaks from God within, v ■That never makes a league with sin; That snaps the fetters despot, make, •yw And loves the truth for Its own sake; That worships God, and Him alone. And bows no more than at His throne; And trembles at no tyrant’s nod! A soul that fears no one but God, And thus can smile at curse or ban—'This is the soul that makes a man. WHAT MARKS A WOMAN? Not cosily dress, nor queenly air; Not Jeweled hand; complexion fair; Not graceful form, nor lofty tread; Not paint, nor curls, nor splendid head; Not pearly teeth, nor sparkling eyes; Not voice that nightingale outvies; Not breath as sweet as eglantine; Not gaudy gems, nor fabrics fine; Not all the stores of fashion’s mart, Nor yet the blandishments of art: Not one, nor all of these combined. Can make one woman true, refined. ’Tie not the casket that we prize. But that which in the casket lies; These outward charms that please the sight . Are naught unless the heart be right.

THE WRONG PICTURE.

“A pretty face— a very pretty face, in•deed ! n I turned the little photograph •upside -down, held it off at arm’s length to get a perspective view and scrutinized it closely with my eye-glasses. Henry Wallis looked pleaaeiLj a man naturally likes Tils jiahceduly admired and appreciated. “ Bo this is the Bessie Armitage I have heard so much of; really, Wallis, she does credit to your taste. A blonde, I suppose ?” “ Fair as a lily-leaf, with blue eyes and the sunniest golden hair!” “Ah! well, I must say I prefer the brunette style, so far as my individual taste .goes; but then fancies differ, you know.” It was all very well for Henry Wallis to go into ecstacies about his pallid, fairhaired little Bessie Armitage; he had never met thq glance of Cecilia Vernon’s magnificent black* eyes. What did he know about the true type of feminine beauty ?” , “As you say, fancies differ,” Wallis returned, lightly. “But I wish you would select a handsome frame for it when you go to town next—blue velvet, with a gold rim on the margin, or some such tasteful arrangement.” “ I’ll see to It,” I said, depositing the picture in its envelope and returning it to my inside breast-pocket. “ You’ll be very careful of it?” “ Careful ? Of course I shall!” I smiled a little loftily at Wallis’ solicitude and we parted. After all, Henry Wallis was better off than I was, for he was securely engaged to the dimpled, yellow-tressed little obieqt of his affections, while I was yet, as it were, in outer darkness, uncertain whether my peerless Cecelia returned my ardent devotion or whether she secretly inclined toward that unprincipled fellow, Fitzhugh Trefoil. A score of times I had resolved to settle the question; a score of times I had gone to the Vernons’ house with the very formula of declaration on my lips, and as often had the words died away unvoiced and unspoken. If fate had only gifted me with onethousandth part of Fitzhugh Trefoil’s offhand audacity! I don’t think anything short of the deluge could check that fellow’s cool self-possession; an earthquake wouldn’t, and I don’t think the millennium could I However, love inspires the feeblest heart with a sort of factitious courage, and I was a new man since Miss Vernon had smiled upon me. What was the use ■of doubting, hesitating and trembling? Why not decide my fate at once ? Henry Wallis’s serene content exercised a stimulating influence upon me. I would fain have been aS he was! “ There is no sense in procrastinating matters any further,” I said, half aloud, as I walked up and down the rather limited domains of my little law office. “I have been a doubting fool quite long enough.” I’m afraid I wasn’t a very amiable member of the domestic circle that after-

noon. ’ “ 1 think Paul is growing crosser every day,” said my sister, shrugging her little plump shoulders. “ Mamma, I wish you’d speak to him.” But my mother, bless her wise old soul, knew belter than that. She only looked at me over the rims of her spectacles, and wanton darning stockings. “ Paul is worried with business matters, I suppose,” she said, apologetically. “ Paul will do well enough, if you only let him alone.” I went up to my room after dinner, and made an elaborate toilet; but all the pains I bestowed upon itserved only to heighten the general effect of awkwardness. “I've two minds to wait until to-mor-row,” quoth I to myself, abruptly stopping, with my cravat half tied. No, I might be a coward, but I was not such an unmitigated poltroon as that. I had begun the enterprise, and would carry it through, if-it cost me the last drop of my heart’s blood. Moreover, I had an inspiration. An entirely new and original method of putting the momentous query—"popping the question” is a vulgarism that I, for onfc, could never tolerate—had occurred to me. “ Hang Fitzhugh Trefoil!” I exclaimed, gleefully, half aloud, though there was no ear to hear my ejaculation. “ 11l win the dark-eyed treasure yet, in spite •of him!” I opened my writing-case and carefully took out a little cane de -oieite wrapped in tissue paper, and tenderly laid away with ■& pink silk perfume-sachel that Minnie had made for me once. It was Cecilia’s picture; she had allowed me to steal it -away from her, with scarcely a remonstrance, a week before. Then was tire time I ought to have proposed; but, like •a timorous, doubting moon-calf as I was, I had let the golden tide of opportunity slip unimproved away from me. 1 drew Bessie Armitage’s vacant, dolllike face from its envelope and compared the two with a thrill of triumph in my heart. —r—- “ Colorless water beside crimson,sparkling champagne! a pale violet in the Shadow of a royal rose! pearls eclipsed by the fiery flash of diamonds!” 1 I exclaimed. “ Henry Wallis’s taste may be very correct and classical, but give me my radiant brunette! These bleached-out beauties don’t correspond with my ideal of perfection.” It was a lovely spring evening as I en-, tered the wide graveled path that led up to the broad porch of the old-fashioned Vernon mansion. 'Bqtiife Vernon sat there smoking his meerschaum. ' “Won’t you sit down and have - a

THE RENSSELAER UNION AND JASPER REPUBLICAN.

VOL. VIII.

smoke?” he demanded,hospitably. “It’s a real luxury to be able to take a whiff out of doors, after being shut up in the house all the winter. Or maybe you’d prefer going in to see Cecil ?” Sensible old gentleman I he had not forgotten his own yoking days. I Intimated, not without considerable awkwardness, that the special object of my vislthad been to “ see Cecil.” “Well, she Is in the parlor, all by herself,” said the Squire, good-humoredly, motioning me in. “Walk in—walk in.” Cecilia Vernon was sitting in the parlor alone, as her father had said, the bright center of a cheerful circle of lamplight. A bit of crochet-work was lying in her lap, and an* open volume of poems—poems I had sent her—was on the table. Cecilia Vernon was always fair to look upon, in my sight; to-night, however, She seemed more than ordinarily beautiful. I sat down, and began hesitatingly upon the never-failing topic of the weather. A proposal had seemed the easiest thing in the world as I walked along the dewy edges of the peaceful, starlighted road, contemplating it from afar off; but now that I was face to face with it, Alps upon Alps of difficulty and perplexity seemed to surround its accomplishment. 1 would have given all that I was worth to postpone the evil day but twenty-four hours—all but my self-respect, and that was imperiled now. . Cecilia tried her best to keep the ball of conversation in motion; she introduced new subjects, asked leading questions, and feigned deep interest in the most abstruse oi topics. But even Cecilia couldn’t talk on forever, and presently, with a little sigh of despair, she subsided into silence. r~_ — Now was the eventful moment of my destiny.

“ Cecilia!” I said softly. She raised the liquid brown eyes to mine. “ I want to confide in you to-night-have I your permission to speak ?” "Certainly, Mr. Markham!” “I am very much in love, Cecilia; in fact, my heart has long ago gone out ot my possession into that of ” I stopped, with the ihtal husky feeling in my throat. Cecilia was blushing divinely! I drBVTTny chair'close to hers r with the sensation of a man who has just pulled the string ot a cold shower-bath. “Who is the lady?” faltered Cecilia, as if she didn’t know perfectly well already. “ Shall I show you her picture, Cecilia?” Miss Vernon inclined her head almost to the level of my shoulder to look at the little carte de risite I drew from my pocket. I skillfully stole one arm round her waist. “ See, dearest!” But, to my horror and dismay, she snatched her hand from my clasp, sprang up, and started away, like some fair avenging goddess! “How dare you insult me thus, Mr. Markham?” “Cecilia! how—what—” “ Don’t presume to call me Cecilia, sir!” sobbed the indignant girl, bursting into tears and sweeping from the room! I sat like one palsied. What had I done ? Why was the gracious mood of my enchantress thus suddenly transformed to gall and bitterness? Surely she would presently return and apologize for her capricious exit? But she did not return, and, after waiting long in vain, I sneaked out of a side-door and crept dejectedly home, my heart burning with wonder and resentment. I had no mind to meet the assembled family group; so I admitted myself with the latch-key and stole noiselessly up-stalrs, where my lamp still burned—the lamp 1 had lighted with such high and bounding hopes! I threw off my coat viciously; as I did so, the forgotten carte de visite dropped from my pocket I stooped to pick it up. It was the portrait of Bessie Armitage! And there on the .mantel, where in my heedless haste I had left it, was the divine countenance of my queen, Cecilia! 1 had shown her the wrong photograph! All was clear now! Her indignation and resentment—the whole tangled web ot mystery was unraveled now! I caught up my hat to rush back to her, but at that moment the clock struck eleven! It was too late now. All apology and explanation must be deferred until the morrow. And with a discontented spirit

I sought my couch. Early the next morning I walked over to the old Vernon mansion; but, expeditious as 1 was, Trefoil had been there before me. I met him coming whistling down the walk as self-possessed as ever. “Good morning,” I said briefly, endeavoring to pass him; but he detained “ Congratulate me, my dear fellow! I am the happiest man in the world. Cecilia Vernon has just promised to be my wife!” I stared blankly at him, and with one or two unintelligible murmurs, turned short round and walked home again. My rival had improved the propitious opportunity, and caught Cecilia’s heart in the rebound! Well—so goes the world, and 1 am a bachelor yet. There is but one Cecilia, and she, alas! is married to Fitzhugh Trefoil! Moral.—When you go courting, be certain whose picture it is you are carrying next your heart!

Man-Eating Tigers.

One of the most curious, and, at the same time, well-attested peculiarities of the liger is that he does not naturally possess, but easily acquires a love of human flesh. At first tigers appear to bow to that instinctive dread of man which is natural to all animals. The natives are aware of this habit, and carry on their usual avocations as grass-cutters, fruitgatherers, herdsmen, etc., close to a thicket where a tiger is known to be lying. It is not merely fatalism, as might be supposed, that renders them thus apathetic, but the knowledge that so long as tigers can procure other food they will not iniure mad. Even when one of their cattle is struck down, they run up and often frighten the tiger from the body of his victim by shouting and beating sticks on the ground. These “ aheers.” or herdsmen, too, armed with what Aristotle calls the courage derived fromexperience, will conduct the sportsman up to the “ kill” with fearless confidence. Like the cobra, they hold the tiger in superstitious reverence. In many parts, says Dr. Fayrer, the natives will avoid mentioning his name, save by a variety of periphrases or euphemisms, and will not kill him even when they have a fair opportunity to do so, for fear that his spirit will haunt them or do them mis Chief after death. But when the tiger has once tasted human flesh, the spell _pf man’s supremacy is broken, and ever after that, it is said, he prefers it to any other.— Fraier'e Haganine. /. (

RENSSELAER, JASPER CO., INDIANA, APRIL 27, 1876.

A Visit to Santa Anna.

A correspondent of the Cincinnati Enauirer writes from the City of Mexico. Having, with other Americans, expressed a desire to call upon Geu. Santa Anna, the Hon. Mr. Foster, our Minister here, kindly arranged an interview for us at eleven o’clock yesterday morning. At the hour appointed an interpreter was sent to join our party, and.,we proceeded but a single block from our hotel to find the residence of the General. He lives in a third-rate house of two stories, with courts of not more than twenty feet square, the pavements out of repair, the whole telling the story of poverty. He was seated upon a much-worn sofa, attended by a smart-appearing Mexican of middle age, and rose, with some difficulty, in receiving us. He complained considerably of his wooden leg, and also of blindness. He is an old man of eighty years, very decrepit, yet in full command of his faculties ; has a good lijead and face, not unlike the pictures of Humboldt inold age, with broad temples and an abrupt square nose, and, at one time, good eyes. He had little to say, but appeared pleased at our visit; and, as we told him of the four or five general officers of the Mexican war still living, he listened with interest, but showed no special recognition until the name of Pillow was mentioned, whom he remembered perfectly. Upon complimenting him as the greatest historical character of Mexico now living, and that on my return more interest would be manifested concerning him than any matter of my entire visit, his eyes brightened, and in gracefully acknowledging the compliment he remarked that he had never permitted an opportunity to escape of expressing his sincere thanks for the great kindness shown him in the United States during the entire period of his sojourn there. We then took our departure, and not without many reflections upon the instability of human greatness. Over the sofa where Santa Anna sat was the picture of a beautiful woman in her fullness of youth and loveliness. This was his wife when both led the fortunes of Mexico. As we passed out the court our attention was called to the figure of a woman of fifty in the window opposite, in a plain dress, and devoid of any interesting tribute. This was she whose picture had so interested us, Mrs. Gen. Santa Anna. ~—• ~

A hat It Costs the British Nation to Support the Royal Family.

A prominent member of Parliament recently announced in a speech that Queen Victoria’s youngest daughter, Princess Beatrice, was engaged to be married. This statement was subsequently contradicted, but in all probability it was premature rather than erroneous. It has been a feature in the Queen’s policy to marry her daughters early, and it is unlikely she intends the youngest to be an exception to this rule. In this case, Parliament will be, of course, applied to for a provision for the Princess on the same scale as that given to her older sisters, namely, £6,000 a year, which will make the entire sum granted to the Royal family, exclusive of the Royal grant of £385,000 to the Queen herself, £148,000 per annum. This will be the last grant to the present generation, but nine years hence the eldest son of the Prince of Wales will be of age, and an allowance will, in the ordinary course of things, be required for him, even if there has not previously been an application for a further sum for his father; and meanwhile none of the existing pensions, with the exception of that (£6,000) allotted to the Duchess of Cambridge, can be expected to expire. From this point of view, then, the burdens of the British taxpayer are not likely to see any abatement; but, on the other hand, there is a very satisfactory set-off in the fact that under improved management the revenue derived from the vast estates which the Crown surrendered to the country for a fixed Parliamentary grant, of late, is augmented to such a degree that it, last year, nearly covered the whole of this grant, and will doubtless in time far exceed it. The same may be said in regard to the revenues of the two royal Duchies of Lancaster and Cornwall. In 1865, the Queen received from the former, as Duchess of Lancaster and heiress of John of Gaunt, £20,000; in 1874, £41,000. The increase has for years continued at the rate of an average of some £3,000 a year. This revenue is entirely independent of that granted by the Legislature, and completely at her own disposal. The Duchy of Cornwall revenue has risen from £22,000 in 1824 to £72,000 to-day, and increases at the rate of about £3,000 a year; but it is probable that the increase will ere long take a sudden leap to a much larger sum, by the falling in of leases, ana that the income from this source will render a future Prince of Wales independent of a Parliamentary grant.

Moreover, there is good reason to suppose that the Royal family of England will, like the house of Orleans, be rendered very independent of large grants from the State in time to come by the immense property they will inherit from Queen Victoria, who must be one of the wealthiest persons in the world, quite apart from her State revenue. Not only does she own the valuable properties of Osborne and Balmoral (the latter more than 25,000 acres), both of which, although not sources of revenue, would sell for immense sums, but her accumulations of money must be prodigious. Like many persons who have been bred under pecuniary difficulties, Her Majesty's expenditure has always been exceedingly careful. No establishment in the world has been conducted with more thorodgh economy than hers, and since the death of the Prince Consort and her consequent retirement, an immense saving has been effected in her expenditure. Of her £385,000 a year, it was arranged at the beginning of her reign that all except £96,000 should be divided between the three great departments of her household. Of the £96,000, £60,000 a year was for her “ privy purse,” or private expenses, and £36,000 a year for “contingencies.” Bnt the retiring manner in which the court has lived of late has reduced the expenditure so much that it may be doubted if this £36,000 a year has been touched, Indeed, whether even a great portion of the sums allotted to the Lord Steward, Lord Chamberlain, Ind Master of the Horse, has ever been used. There is, for instance, no need now for half the horses formerly kept, and it is notorious that when more are needed they are hired from livery stables. But besides all these sources of revenue, the Queen has yyt another very considerable. An ec centrrc miser, by name Neill, who died in 11852, left her property amounting to over £500,000. Here is al least £20,‘000 a year. > ‘ .■

It will thus be seen that, while her means have increased, her expenditure has greatly diminished. In the way of charity she doubtless dispenses a good deal, but is by no means profuse, her suboriptions being, in this respect, singularly in contrast with those of the late Queen Dowager. For instance, she only subscribed £IOO on the occasion of the dreadful floods in England last year, while tire Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh gave a like amount Her presente, moreover, are apt to be very little like what might be expected to come from such a source. But, be it remembered, almost her first act on coming to the throne was to pay her father’s debts, and she has never had a debt herself, and now probably, with prescient eye, she is making a provision which will cause her careftil economy to be blessed by her son’s subjects. For nothing is more likely to commend royalty to them than the finding it cheap.— Appleton's Journal.

Marshal Stalk—A Shakesperean Character.

Adrien de Montfort says In h» reminiscences of actors in Wilkes' Spirit: It was very generally known in the community, particularly among scholars and the journalistic profession, that the celebrated comedian, Wm. p. Burton, had one of the finest Shakesperean libraries in the country, and it was not an unusual thing for him to receive applications for the privilege to examine some particular work, apropos Of some question of construction or debatable point of peculiar meanings of phrases, etc. These privileges. were generally accorded, as. they, flattered the very pardonable pride of the owner of such valuable text-books. On one occasion a young gentleman was admitted with an introduction from a weLknown legal practitioner at the New York bar, who desired to “ read up” on certain points about which a wager had been made. * “ The bearer,” the letter went onto say, “is a student at Columbia College, and to him has been left the decision of the moot question. You will permit him, I feel assured, to examine the authorities.” The comedian introduced the stranger to his library, and as. he had “buslfiess abroad,” left him among the precious volumes. Later in the day, when Burton returned to his house, he found the student still occupied in hjs researches. He judged, from the number of displaced volumes, that he had been busily engaged in the search. At last, thinking he might be of service to the young gentleman, an offer of assistance was made and accepted. “What particular passage do you seek ?” inquired Burton. “ I am looking for one of the dramatis persona,” was the reply; “ but thus far I have been unsuccessful. The assertion has been made that there is one character mentioned in some one of Shakespeare’s plays that is never cast; indeed, that although it is always named, no one has ever been known to perform it.” “And what may the character be?” “Marshal Stalk,” replied’the verdant youth. The “Governor” at once perceived that a practical joke had been perpetrated upon the student, and so he came to his relief. “You will find it in Hamlet,” he said; “ but you will perceive that, although he accompanies the Ghost to the wings, and even to the spot from which he is seen by other characters, he never comes upon the stage.” “Then,” inquired the victim, “how do we know that he really exists?” “ Simply because those who see him record the fact. Here is the line: ‘See where he comes with martial stalk.’ Of course, did they not see him, they could not mention him.” The argument was convincing, and the young man went away to settle the wager according to the light that had been given him. Burton used to relate the incident with a keefi appreciation.

French Vengeance upon Germany.

The French give a new translation of the Bible words, and say, “Vengeance is sweet, and I will have again my milliards.” The Germans never could have wrought out such a mode of revenge, so sure, so effective and so mortifying, as the French are wreaking on the German nation. The whole countiy is flooded with notices, pamphlets and addresses from the Bon Marche, and all other leading houses in Paris, containing samples and pric.ea of goods, fashions 7 models. etc., that are so much better, cheaper and more tasteful than German work and goods, that scarce a woman, even if she have but one dress a year, does not order it in Paris. The merchants here have protested, appealed to the national pride, and used every effort to break up this ruinous competition, but even with the submissive German women, the one womanly weakness is too strong to yield. A pretty dress and a cheap dress *are irresistible. A society is about to organize topetition the Crown Princess to be its ruling head, whose object is to banish French goods and French modes, and originate their own fashions. May the patron saints protect us! The poor German women, who have the knowledge of harmony of coloring suitably and fitness of dress, in a degree less than any other nation under the sun, excepting the English, to be guided by a member of a royal household that has always been celebrated for its lack in fitness of apparel. I have been told the Crown Princess always goes about with half-laced shoes, or the rubber gores stretched and worn. This Ido not know, but I do know she never looks elegant, and on the ice this winter she wore a costume in which any tasteful American girl would blush to be seen; and had it not been for her handsome husband —who was good-naturedly trying to teach her to skate—no one would have suspected her high standing. If any ambitious dressmakers wish to make themselves a name and a fortune, now is the time for them to come to Berlin.— Berlin Letter to Cneinnati Gatette. A cat race was instituted at Liege, recently, in which thirty-seven competitors were entered. They were carried far out; of town, and liberated at two o’clock in the afternoon, the agreement being that the cat arriving home first shouldhave the prize. The lucky grimalkin won in a canter at 6:48 p. m., the second best not appearing until 2:24 the next morning. .L'--. - - .. A CdRREapONDKNT of the New England Farmer says that be has seen the application of a liberal dressing of muck give that nart of a field to which it is applied a decided appearance of fertility over the rest of it thirty gears after the application I was made.

Stolen Fortunes.

Anna S. H., Washington correspondent of the Cleveland Leader, writes as follows of a leading light in Washington society: There came here early in the season a lady with her children and sister. Expensive apartments were taken at a hotel; carriages were recklessly ordered; two French nurses ministered to the wants es the two children. My lady wore splendid diamonds; her street costumes, her carriage and evening dresses, her India shawls and velvet mantles were the envy of all who beheld her, while the sister, advertised as a young, confiding girl, wore brilliant array. She became distressingly intimate with other young ladies in the house, and openly laid snares for varfous gentlemen. She vowed that the crimp in her hair was natural, that the bloom on her cheek was only that of health, and being rather bright she held her way triumphantly. “ Who are they!’’ passed from lip to lip. Somebody made answer. ‘ 1 They are from New YorK; Mr. will come after awhile,” and when the young lady was questioned she said: “We are from New York; except while I was at school I have lived at .the Fifth Avenue Hotel,” and society, dazzled with the glitter, accorded all the honor and dignity claimed. At length Mr. arrived; a great mass of flesh and stupidity, yet with a cunning look in his evil eyes. He dressed like a gentleman; he smoked and gave away expensive cigars, but rumors began to be rife concerning antecedents by no means creditable, and finally the story leaked out. In an interior town there lived a yenerahle old man with this one son. While the son grew to manhood, the estates grew valuable till the father was deemed enormously rich. It was a manufacturing district. Among the mill girls was one whose bright eyes attracted the stupid son of the miser and he married her greatly to his father’s wrath. The bride’s young sister was in direst poverty; the young husband placed her at school and the bride being really a smart girl won the old man’s liking. When the father died he left the son nearly a million in personal property. What more natural than the establishment of a bank ? The bank was opened; its great capital was well known and it promised to depositors a tempting amount of interest. Poor people brought their little boatings; mill girls and mill boys were eager to invest; widows deposited their all, seamstresses and school teachers flocked to snatch the alluring bait, and the bank went on swimmingly for—just one year. Then it failed, paying seven cents on a dollar, bringing to many a household utter ruin and poverty, but the President fled, and has since lived without any ostensible business as if he were Crcesus himself. This winter Washington has had the benefit of his lavish expenditure, while hundreds in that far-away town are suffering the direst penury to pa/for his magnificence. The story became so unpleasantly common that the party left, but society had smiled for them her sweetest welcomes, and Miss —— was paragraphed as an heiress! To what?

The Sciences Among the Mound Builders.

The Mound-builders possessed some knowledge of astronomy, and at least had a practical knowledge of geometry and engineering. Their structures are always found in places which would now be selected by engineers for works designed to subserve similar purposes. It is a remarkable fact that the pyramidal mounds of the South have their faces to the cardinal points of the compass. In enclosed spaces it is found that the gates are always at the side looking toward the east. The pyramidal mound near Florence, Ala., though for years subjected to the disintegrating influence of the farmer’s plowshare, is still seventy feethigh, and covers at its base about one acre of ground. In Chickasaw County, Miss., there is a line of five mounds, extending from north to south. These are all of the pyramidal form. The largest of these is that in the center of the line. It is sixty-seven feet high, 190 wide from north to south and 260 feet from east to west at the base. The others are smaller, the smallest being at the north and south. These mounds were surrounded by a wall of earth enclosing thirty-six acres of land. The remains of the walls are still distinct. The lines are straight, north, south, east and west. The gateway to the enclosure was directly in front of the great mound, at the east side. These mounds were evidently, at one time, crowned by temples. = As another evidence that the Moundbuilders had some knowledge of practical engineering, the highways, whose general direction may still be traced for many miles, may be cited. There are two somewhat remarkable groups of mounds in Tipton County, Tenn. These mounds are not of large size, except in one or two instances, but on some other accounts they possess an interest which does not often attach to these memorials of an extinct race. The first is situated some three or four miles to the southwest of Mason’s depot, on a ridge dividing the waters of the East Beaver from those of the Middle Beaver creeks. There are about eleven of these mounds in the group, but they are of the small conical sort, and would not be likely to attract very much attention from the casual observer. About ten miles a little south of west from the first-named group on the margin of a smalt stream, an affluent of the West Beaver, there is another group of mounds somewhat larger than those above described. Those moucds are pyramidal, and some of them are of large size. They are evidently very ancient works. On one of these, which was about ten feet high above the surrounding level, about 800 feet long and 200 feet wide, Dr. Christopher Dickson formerly resided, having crowned the mound with a neat country residence.

Between these two groups there is a dense cypress-brake situated in the marshy basin of the Middle Beaver Creek. This cypress swamp covers an area of about one and a half souare miles. Extending across this swamp, in precisely an air-line direction between the two groups of mounds, is a sort of levee, raised even yet two or three feet above the marshy lard through Which it passes. This ancient roadway is straight as a line, cutting the swamp directly through for the distance of more than a mile. From thia fact there ean be no doubt that the Mound-builders knew how to run lines and build roads. Col. Louis J. Dupree, editor of the Austin (Texas) Statesman, has given much attention to the subject of the archeology of the Mississippi Valley, and his observations, contributed to Appleion't Journal and to the Southern Magaxine are of no small value. Col, Dupree has personally examined many of the remains of the Mound-builders found In the valley, and

NO. 32.

he has traced a well-defined line of defensive works, extending from the BL Francis to the White River, across the countiy In Arkansas. He finds evidence that a mighty straggle once took place in the valley of the Upper White River between the Mound-builders, who had been grad* ually pressed back by the hordes of bar* barians from the North, and had made their final stand, met with an overwhelming overthrow and were destroyed or forced to flee. It was the Armageddon of the Mound-builders, and we are assured that a vast field of human bones yet exists in that region. The character of the works examined by Dupree go to prove that the Moundbuilders knew the art of defensive construction. Prof. Edward Fontaine in his work “How the World was Peopled,’’ goes further, and expresses the opinion that the bayou system of the Southern valley was once utilized for purposes of transportation; that the levees to prevent inundations built by the Mound builders may still be traced along the Mississippi and Yazoo Rivers south of Memphis, and, finally, that these people well understood the physics and hydraulics Of the Missis* Bippi River. These remains of their work prove that among the Mound-builders there were engineers of no small ability —the Capt. Eadses of their era. We may thus infer from an examination of the situation of the mounds, whether erected for sacred purposes as outlooks or as works of defense, showing admirable engineering skill, and from tracing the highways and levees which they contracted, that the Mound-builders were not destitute of the higher faculties of constructive art. They may have had bridges and handsome boats, out time has obliterated every trace of these perishable things.— St. Louie Republican.

Killing Time.

If there is any occupation under the sun from which every right-minded man and woman should pray to be delivered, i it is that of “ killing time.” : We have seen people engaged in it, and we always pity them immensely. Just think of it! To get up in the morning, with no definite employment for the day! To eat breakfast, and be as long as possible in doing it, so that din* ner may come the sooner. To eat dinner with the same end in view, that supper may not be too far off. Meanwhile,, nothing to occupy the mind or the hands; he only idea present being the desire to pass the time, somehow. Why, i* is enough to make a well man sick, and to drive a rational man crazy. The idea of killing time when the world is full of work, and not half hands enough to do it. Killing time when men and women are suffering for the help these idle hands might render them; and innocent children axe being sent to the almshouses for the very bread these lazy drones might earn for tlienaKilling time, when there are forests to be leveled, cities to be built, deserts to be made to blossom like the rose, and whole nations of human beings yet to be Christianized, and taught that the first duty of man to-man is to “love thy neighbor as thyself.”

Fie, young man! for shame! take oft your kid glovesy lay aside your diamonds,, and consign, your eye-glasses to their ease, and go to work. Don’t complain to us of weak stomachs, and trembling nerves, and. flaccid muscles, you who have no more ennobling life-work on hand than killing time. The man. who follows a legitimate business never has any time to kill. He has not time enough. He has to calculate in. order to make his allowance of time and the demand which labor makes upon it.. And he will live longer and happier than, the idler who works hard to get rid of the time allotted him, and the world wjjl feel his loss ten. times as much, for “ it is better to wear out than to rust out.’* Young women whose cheeks are pallid, and whose lips have lost their bloom,, leave this wretched occupation of killing time, and go to work. Hunt up the motherless and desolatechildren around you, and teach them to read and. write, and make them some frocks and petticoats to keep, the cold winds of winter from thei? shivering forms. Help the poor widow woman across the way with the garments of that flock of boys of hers; for who knows but somewhere among them there may be found the future President of these United States ? Nothing more likely. And then, if such an event should come to pass, just think how proud you will be to say to your grand-children on Inauguration Day, “ Well, I made him a pair of trousers once.” Do anything honorable rather than kill time. Time! the most priceless of all oar treasures. Time, which is slipping away from us so last that in a little while it will have passed forever, and eternity will have begun. Think of England’s unhappy Queen, who on her death-bed cried in despair-. “ My kingdom for a moment of time.” —KaU Thorn, inN. Y. Weekly.

How a Stranger Fleeced a HotelKeeper.

Wednesday afternoon a man entered one of the billiard-rooms in thlte city and engaged in a game of billiards. He ware a long and stylish Ulster overcoat, while his pants were tucked inside of his bootlegs. He played about two hours, and when settling-time arrived his bill amounted to two dollars and seventy-five cents. Cautiously approaching the proprietor, he said that he didn’t have a cent, but was willing to leave anything as security, promismg to redeem it in the morning. In reply the proprietor tckl him to leave anything he wished, whereat the strangerasked to be shown to a private room. His request was complied with, and in about five minutes he returned, carrying upon his arm a pair of pants nearly new and of very stylish make. He handed them to the saloon-keeper, saying-. “Take ’em; they cost me eighteen dollars last week, but I’ll redeem ’em to-morrow morning.” “ But what will you wear house ?’ said the proprietor. “ I don’t wish to strip “That’s all right,” said the stranger. “ My Ulster and top boots easily make up for the lack of trousers, and I’ll redeem the pledge in the morning.”! Thus the account was settled, and the stranger departed. Then the stranger went to Gillman Brothers’ Oyster Ocean Hotel, and calling for a room retired., Yesterday morning he appeared at the hotel office and said to the clerk? n Last night I engaged a room here and retired. This morning I awoke to find that during the night I had foot my

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pants, which contained all the money I had—about twenty-five dollars. It’s aa unfortunate transaction for me. and while I have no wish to appear hard to suit, I do wish that It may net reflect upon the management of this betel. Therefore I leave w with you to settle as you see fit, promising to abide by your decMeu with* out complaint.” E. a. Gill naan waa caliedj and alter the case had been stated he retired to a room, when he became convkced that the stranger wus without trowrers, anda thorough search and inquiry failed to reveal their whereabouts, and soewa-newpair of pants had' been charged to GiUman Brothers and given to the stranger, who was also given-twenty-five dollars in cash. Yesterday afternoon the keeper of the billiard establishment visited.the Oyster Ocean and related as “ a funny story” the episode of a mats leaving a pair of pants worth eighteen, dollars as security for a billiard bill ofi two dollars and seventyfive cents, adaing “bat he aame back this morning with plenty of money and redeemed them,” - E. H. Glllman,. who had listened to the story, thought he saw some connection between his own experience and the story just related, and told the proprietor A the billiard room.about “ the stolbmpanta and twenty-five dollars,” and they began to compare notes. The result was that, they unanimously agreed that the man with anUlster overcoat and top-boete had, S' shrewd deception, come out winner of a ght's lodging, several games of billiards, a pair of twelve dollar pants and twentyfive dollars in cash. — Detroit Free Preu.

HOUSEHOLD HINTS.

Cheap Cvbtadw.—One of the most agreeable material*- for curtaining windows is-coarse unbleached cotton. The irregularity ,of tl e> thread and the rough* nessof the surface- gives its soft folds much the charm of a Russian crash, and its hue warms the Mght of cool, north windows almost to the glow of —/louukeeper. To Cook Oatmeal, Etc —ln cooking oatmeal, hominy, wheaten grits, cracked wheat, or any of those nice breakfiwtdish* es, cook it in a covered tin dish set in a kettle of boiling, water;.in this manner there is no danger of scorching. Cons* starch pudding, sea-moss, farina and alb other articles mixed with milk, can ba cooked in the same way. Beam Porridge.—When the beans are skimmed from the kettle to be put baking, leave a teacupful or more of the beans iu the kettle. Set the kettle oa the top of the stove where the beaus will slowly cook fine. Then season the broth with sufflcient salt, pepper and butter, to make it relish, ana, with goad-Graham bread;it makes a soup fit for a< king or a dys* peptic. , Meat axd RuskPbddikg.—Chop any kind .of cold meat with salt pork or. ham, season it well with butter, pepper and salt, and add, two of three beaten egg». Then make alternate layers of wet rusk crumbs, with milk, or cold boiled hominy or rice, and bake half or three quar-ters-of aa hour. Let the upper layer be crambs, and cover with a plate while baking, and when - nearly done take it off to brown the top.

1 Fruit Cans,—Those who have emptied their fruit cans of their, first contents, and are fortunate enough, to have green applesmay.now fill them with apple-sauce for future use. Flavored with lemon, or black raspberries, and put np hot, like other fruit, this sauce is preferable togeod. dried apples. Soma chop cabbage fine and pack tightly in glass cans, covering it with cold cider vinegar, seal them up, and, find them an excellent resource when the warmer season comes on. It keepswell in this way.— BtAange. ’ To Coox Beans.—When beans are kept .over a year or more they become rather difficult to cook, tender. One way to accomplish it is-to soak them.over night In .soft water, and ijLtbe morning put them, to boil, putting a.qnarter of a teaspoonful of soda Into the Water. Tbs water must be turned off as soon as- it boils, and changed two or three times. Haveateto kettle of boiling water ready to coverthem when the other. is poured off; as cold wa* ter hardens them.again. After they begin to crack open, they should beputin. the oven, with a piece of pork previously freshened, and water enough to keep them from burnlng,.and bake a couple of hours. Beans are abealthful and-convenient dish andjahould often appear on a farmer’s table, being, as good or better when, cold than they are when just cooked—Qw. Rural New Yorker.

Bees.

In purchasing honey bees see that you» do not obtain them within two. miles of your dwelling,, as they might tty back to their old.homeand be lest. It to just as well to get them in. the old style of box hive, and.they can be transferred to such movable comb hives as you conclude to use, after they have swarmed once, waiting fifteen to twenty days to give time for the young bees to leave their cells, or as many as possible, then transfer them. The easiest way to do thia is first to attach a few pieces of comb, to the bare ot the new hive o» one side, say on three of them, with melted beeswax, using a small brash, or a yag tied to the end of a stick will do. The operation must be Quickly performed to-make the comb adhere well. Next you should apply a thick coat of wax. to the extreme lower edges of the other bars, which should be made of tile shape of an. inverted A or a V; but the angle may be less acute. This shape, if the lower part, be waxed a half an inch on each side, will cause the bees to build their cembe evenly upon them. Now you are ready to transfer your bees. In the fomoon of a warm day turn your old box hive bottom up, and set upon lt>an| empty hive of the same siae and shape, or any box made to fit well. Then tie * - cloth around where the two hives connect, so as to exclude the light: then ran 4 smartly upon the lower hive with a rack in each hand for twenty minutes, by winch time the queen and most of the bee# will have gone up into the box above; then place your new hive upon a sheet, either where the old hive stood before driving out the bees, or directly in front oi its place, raise the from edge two or three inches, then by a sudden Jar dieted® all the tees in front of it, and they Wl all enter it, also those that were in the fields, and take some of the Comte in the gd new hive on the MW raiMHW: te aud a 1 w