Rensselaer Republican, Volume 14, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 January 1882 — Page 2

GOING lAHEAD. ; '• ' - 1 hear the flw-off voyager’s horn, I see rhe Yankee’s trail— His foot On mountain pass, On stream his sail. He’s whittling by St. Mary’s Falls, Upon his loaded wain; , „ He’s measuring o’er the Pictured Rocks With eager eyes ot gain. I hear the mattock tn the mines, The axe-stroke in the dell, The clamor from the Indian lodge, The Jesuit chapel bell! I see the swarthy trappers come From Mississippi’s springs; Atid war Chiefs with tneir painted brows, And crests of eagle wings. Behind the Scared squaw’s birch canoe, The steamer smokes and raves; And city lots are staked for sale ® Above all Indian graves. By forest-lake and waterfall, I see the peddlers’ show: The mighty mingling with the mean, The lofty with the low. I hear the tread of pioneers. Of nations yet to be; -The first low wash ot waves where soon Shall roll a human sea. The rudiments of empire here, Are plastic yet, and warm The chaos of amignty world Is rounding into form. Each rude and jostling fragment soon Its fitting place shall find— The raw material of a state, Its muscle and its mind! And westering still the star which leads J The new world to its train, Has tipped with fire the icy spears Of many a mountain chain. The snowy cones of Oregon Are kindled on its way, 4nd California’s golden sands Gleam brighter in its ray. —John G. Whittier.

TWENTY POUNDS STERLING.

There never was such a man to bet as Staining. He was always so sure hewas. right. Our mutual frit nd Marxwell ought to have sailed for Brazil, but I felt confident I had seen him in the street, but Staining said it was nonsense, and he bet me £2O to Is I was wrong. He had hardly finishedspeaking when Marxwell came in. Staining pulled out of his pocket a £2O note and handed it to me. “There you are, old fellow. A fool and his money,’ etc. Another illustration of that wise adage.” “Not exactly; for you don’t expect I shall take your money?” ,qYes I do; and shall be extremly annoyed if you refuse.” I protested, but presently he said, in considerable irritation: “Then be my almoner, and give the money away in charity.” He left presently, and as there are objections to standing in the public highways with a bank note in your hand and a puzzled expression in your face, the note was transferred to my pocket, and I went my way wondering, /when I was met full "tilt by a clergyman whom I knew. “Hulloa!” he cried. “Mr. Smith, you and I seem to have our minds so much occupied that we cannot take care of our bodies. “No grave matter of mine,” I said; “but you look sad. Nothing wrong with you and yours?” “No thank you; but I have just left a depressing scene. A young couple, married in haste, have come to grief. The wife and child are ill. Relatives and friends have receded into the remote background. And worse than all the husband—”

“Has become intemperate or has gone mad.” “Neither one nor the other.” “Something worse?” “Yes; for to be dishonest is worse than going mad. And it is such a mere trifle that is needed, apparently, to put all straight, that I groan at my inability to And it.” ‘.What’s wanted? ••Well, it’s only £20.” “There’s the money you require. Haste away, and do all the good you can with it” My friend looked astonished. He even hesitated a moment. “It is very good of you,” he said, nervously, “but really ” “I have the power to give this away. Good by.’, And I hurried off. Then I hastened back to him. “May I request that you will on ho account mention my name?” “As you wish it, I won’t but you should know the object of your bountry.” And he told me. Then we parted. I had only gone a dozen yards when there passed me a young man with a flushed face and a frightened, anxious look in his eyes. He caught un to my friend and spoke to him. 'That is the man, I said to myself, whose proceedings have been dubious, and who will, I trust, be rescue! by Staining’s 7 £2O. Well, if the wheel should turn, and this poor man should ever be in a position to deliver a fellow creature from such trouble as he himself is now ia, by the surrender of £2O, I wonder if he’ll do it? Smith, you surely know human nature well enough *to answer your own foolish question. Not he—not a bit of it. This incident was soon swept from my mind by a sudden call to go abroad even to the place where Marxwell did not go—Brazil. Nothing happened to me then! I was a yosng bachelor and could start for the antipodes at two days’ notice. When I take my wife and children—l forget the number—in our autumnal trip, in these later years in my life, I require weeks’ preparation.

Away, then, to Brazil; away to new life, new companions, new hopes and ■fears; away to fortune and the yellow fever! Here occurs in my tale an interval of twenty years (my story deals in twenties). I doubt whether I should have come back had not a young English lady one night sung in my hearing an old home ballad,so well remembered in connection with some loved ones who in this world will sing no more, that a craving for my native lamb mastered me kt once, and in a very short time I was on my return home. , On the way I had one night a frightful dream. I fended a terrible enemy had me down and clutched m£ throat. Tighter grew his grasp add, fainter my breath. My staring eyes fanned every feature df my murderer. Slowly and nainftilly did I call to mind the race above me. It was Staining—but he was reckless, desperate. I gasped an entreaty for mercy. \ “Give it to me; I want it; I must have it instantly— instantly!” was the hoar* reply. “ Wbat—what can he mean ?” X “What!” he shrieked, in maniacal fkenzy. “MyX2O.

, I had quite forgotten about the bet and the £2O; but the dream set me thinkirig of what rumors I had heard respecting Staining since I left England—tha* his money had wasted, that he had fallen in position and even into poverty. “Poor fellow,” I thought, “there may be something in that dream. If his pride will accept it he shall have that money back, and very glad 1 shall be to restore it.” Back in Ehgland, settled down in the old country. Main matters disposed of, I began to think of minor ones, and among the latter the discovery of Staining. He was not in the former haunts, and I failed so long to find him that I was beginning to despair, when one night I met him in the street. The brilliant light of a ball-room may"increase the luster of a woman’s eyes, but if you want to see a brokendown man in his worst aspect, survey him standing disconsolately under a street lamp, a drizzling rain descending upon him,and he with folded arms g resenting a picture of mute despairr o did 1 behold Staining. I put my hand upon his shoulder. He sprang from me as though I were a wild beast. “I did not want to run away,” he said hoarsely; “they knew that. Go on; I’ll walk quietly enough. Why—what- can it be —” “Yes, it is Smith, your old companion. Come out of this and confide in me. If you are in trouble and money can help you, you shall not want.” And I took his arm ana we went together. And then I heard poor Staining’s confession, and it amounted to this. When He had wasted his! money, he obtained a situation in al merchant’s office./ The pay was sufficient to keep Juny/out even now nothing could re'strain him from betting on horse-rac-ing. As a consequence he was soon penniless, and worse—disnonest. He had paid a betting debt out of a £2O note which had ben entrusted to him. Discovery had ensued, and though the luckless man had explained that it was only through a failure of another member of the virtuous fraternity £re> could not replace the money at once, he bad reason to suppose he would be prosecuted.

“Many, many thanks,” replied the poor fellow to my offer. “You can see the firm in the morning: but j doubt whether they will take the money. I believe they are bent on my ruin.” Early next morning I was at the office of Baydon, Blendon & Co., and, having stated my errand, I proffered my £2O. - 5 Mr. Baydon was a sleek old gentleman. There was an air of wealth and ease all over him. He bbwed complacently, and said: “I can appreciate your kindness to this poof man,and Imyself would pass the matter over at once, but my partner takes a different yiew, and I cannot interfere.” “Can I see Mrl Blendon?” “Yes, if you will call again in two hours.” tn the cab I kept muttering to myself: “Bjlendon, and Robert Blendon, too? liam sure of it. Still, if it be so it is very strange. I think I should know that face again. We shall see who will be master.” Back to Messrs. Blendon, Baydon & Co.’s office, and then in the presence of Mr. Blendon. All my anxiety for my poor friend faded away. I was master of the situation. I stated my desire to pay the amount of Staining’s defalcation, and my hope that under the extenuating circumstances no publicity would be given to the miserable wrong-doing. Mr. Blendon heard me with some impatience, and before replying drew a cneck to “self or bearer” for £IOO. Having given this to the clerk, he said tome:

‘ You will excuse my answering ' somewhat shortly. It cannot be. It is not the money we care about, but we must vindicate the law,” I declare I was pleased at the grandiose style of his speech. How beautifully he was walking into my net! I suggested that in a case like this there was no imperative call to such a course, and that forbearance might be shown. . i “Ido not see,” answered Mr. Blendon. “You do not appear, sir, to observe the, immense importance of punishing a delinquency of this kind. I cannot take your money. If I were to let this man off, I would be ashamed of myself. I have just overcome some foolish hesitation of mypartner. lam always firm myself.” (Not always, Mr. Blendon—nor when I last saw you. But wait a bit. A little further into my net, please.) “And, therefore, however sorry I may be, sir, I must say\ no. If I were myself to commit an act of this kind, and—” ’ Why did he stop? I bowed quietly, and rising said:

“You are quite right, Mr. Blendon, for dishonesty is a terrible thing, and while not for a moment pressing my request, I know you will forgive my calling to remembrance a curious case knownfto myself. Some twenty years ago a poor young couple, not long married, had fallen into poverty. The wife and infant were ill; the husband was distracted; he must get money. When his young wife and infant child were almost starving what was to be done? The money was obtained —Mr. Blendon, you know how. But in what way was it repaid before mischief came, and how was the husband saved froth ruin and degration—saved to become a rich and respected merchant? Whose money saved him? That you do not know, but I will tell you. The S2O note which rescued the husband rested only ten minutes j before in the pocket of this very Staining whom you are about to prosecute. Then Staining was as rich as you are now; but he was a kind, Christian man. Mr. Blendon, I have a right to ask you to what character do you lay claim?” I have Often thought since what admirable advantages are a clear head and calm temper. I’d worked myself up to a white heat. It was only when he first saw my drift that my listener manifested any emotion. Then he rose from his chair with flushed face, but he resumed his seat, and by the time I had finished he was almost as calm as when I entered. There was a slight pause, and then he said: “You have acquired some knowledge of an incident in my life which lam not called upon to discuss. Is this knowledge confined to yourself?” “I believe it to be confined to myself and my informant, and I have no de-1 sire it should be otherwise.”

Mr, Blendon bowed. ‘ / “I will not conceal that I shall »e glad if this goes no further, and on taat footing I will say that your friefid shall be freely absolved, and I will even aid him if I can. You must Excuse my taking your £2O. I am obliged to you for coming. Good-morning.]’ I felt as I left him that the enemy had well covered his retreat, and had not left mb a morsel of triumph more than he could help. But my ©Meet Was accomplished, and I hastened to meet Staining. He was not at the appointed place, so I went to his lodgings. The landlady told me he had come in early and gone to his room—not well, she thought. She and I went up together and knocked more than once. Then I went in. Poor Staining lay up on the bed—dead. His enfeebled frame had not been able to endure the recent wear and tear, and he was now beyond the reach of his follies and his troubles. ~

General Butler’s Bereavement.

A correspondent of the St Louis Republican, writing from New-York, furnishes the following: “Ger/Sral Butler has received a severe blow in the death of his son Benjamin Jand those who have met him since Iris bereavement say that his tense (and rugged nature has been relaxed; 1 and his ro bust temner much mellowed. He had expected to introduce his boy intopractice at the Boston bar this faH/and to have shaped his future so that he could in time come into the large and lucrative law business which his father has built up. The General expected that his son would keep alive the name of Ben Butler and would keep in existence the place of that name in the legal profession. These hopes have all been dashed to earth. After an illness of ten days, in which the kidney disease, which seized Lieutenant Butler, made curiously swift progress, the young man died at Bay View, his fathers country seat. General Butler-wss. absent in his yacht America, came sailing un to the wharf at the edge of the grounds the day'.of his boy’s death. The yacht, which had been refitted, had behaved splendidly at sea, and as she came inlo the harbor in,a spanking breeze, wflh dash and spirit, her owner was proud as a new husband. He stood out upon deck as she was moored, and cast his queer eyes toward the wharf, where he saw his former partner, M. McDonald; his chief clerk, Mr. Fox, arid several others standing. He cheerily called out to them that he supposed they had come down to steal a ride to Boston in his yacht, and that he would be glad to have their company if they behaved themselves. Then looking up he saw the flag over his house at half mast. “What,” hesaidin astonishment, “the President is dead!” He observed that his friends did not answer, and he looked from one to another, he saw by their solemn faces that something had had happened. He seemed puzzled,for he had left his son in good health, though delicate, but as if by premonition he quickly asked, “How is Ben?” No one dared to tell him that his favorite son was a corpse. Mr. McDavitt took his and said, “Don’t be alarmed, General. 1 ’ The shock seemed to shake the old man like a blow from a strong battery. He did not say another word but walked into the house and took a seat by iris dead boy and sat for some time holding his lifeless hand. He seemed to find no expression for his grief in tears, and bore his bain in silence. The sight of the old General standing side by side with his son Paul, who is dwarfed in stature, when the body was lowered into the grave, was one that moved many to pity and some to tears. The General’s wife, who was, until the hour of her death, the pride and joy of his life, diedin bis presence under a surgical operation in the Massachusetts Hospital. His only children now are his daughter, Mrs. Adelbert Ames, wife of the ex-Gover-nor of Mississippi, and Paul. The General is worth over $2,000,000 now, and is, through his close attention to practice, rapidly adding to that fortune.” VT—<—

A Modern Samson.

Madison Courier. Bill Hood, the colored man of strength, who formerly lived in this city, died at his home in Jackson county. near Seymour, recently, aged seventy years.” Our older citizens will remember him, and the younger ones will recall many leats of his strength that have been repeated to them, Hood was a remarkable man in many particulars, and for strength was perhaps without an equal in the State thirty yeais ago. He was a teamster, and often while engaged in hauling rock would lift with perfect £ase and place on his vwagon, flan stones that would require the strength of three ordinaly men. When his team would stall in chuck holes, he would place his back under the axle of the wagon and boost tne load out of the hole. When in his cups he was somewhat quarrelsome, and, conscious of his greatstrength, would defy the officers of the law and their posses. Upon more than one occasion the officers had to shoot and disable him before they could arrest him. Upon .one occasion a crowd of railroaders caught hiih'"ina'liquo store kept by Pat Carr, in the hous now occupied by Mr. Hoefer, the 'stocking weaver, and by doubling teams on him, thought they could whip him. They accordingly locked the door to prevent his escape and then informed him of their incen-

tion,"when he immediately commenced to defend himself by taking the ringleader by the nape of the neck andjthe seat of his pantaloons, and raising him above’his head threw him clear through the show-window and .out on to the pavement He then began to knock the others down w T ith his fists, and floored them right and left until he had the whole crowd dowm, wheiihe quietly unlocked the door and made'his way home, but not without a good many bruises, as his antagonists had been busy all the time belaboring him with ax handles and such like weapons. His superhuman strength, however, was so great that he soon rallied and recovered from injuries that would have killed ordinary men. Statistics disclose the fact that of every ten children born in England and Wales, less than seven ever reach their twentieth year. In France only onehalf of the boys and girls who are born attain that age, and Ireland fells even below this miserable standard of juvenile healthfulness.

MADAM PATTI.

How the Divine Song-Bird Passes the day—Her Bills of Fareand/ Concert Costume. Chicago Herald. Madame rises at 9 o’clock; and during her toilet exercises her voice on the chromatic,, or indulges in bits of favorite arias, with Signor Nicclini running an opposition concert in the adjoining suite.’ A lunch is’ served in their din-' ing room at 10 o’clock, with a menu of eggs, toast, fruit, fish, tea and Wine. (Breakfast follows at 12. Rare portefriiou’se, cut extra thick, chops, fruit, coffee, wine, buckwheat cakes, and lettuce salad make up the bill of fare, Which is served, like all her meals, in courses. For dinner, turtle soup and biscuits, spiced turkey, roafct beef, a couple of salads, fruits and three kinds of wine, sustain life untd 10 o’clock, when a very light supper of entrees and coarse bread is taken With wines. When she sings dinner is taken at 3 instead of 7 p. m., and after the opera, not later than 11:30, bouillon soup, a pair of chickens, baked potatoes, salad with French dressing, claret, Roquefort, cheese and crackers, with French’ prunes. The Spanish beauty is as fastidious as talented, and will suffer nothing but the choisest viands served in first-class style. Solid silver, cut glass, and the finest hand-painted French China furnish her table. A center piece and individual bouquets of fresh flowers are supplied by Allen at every meal. Two private waiters serve het, and, like two sentinels guard her door, are attired in black broadcloth (with swallowtail coats, white vests,and satin ties. ' „ . . Her manners are those of a polished lady. All requests to servants and maids are prefaced (with“if you please,” nor is the cheery “many thanks” ever forgotten. Little coffee is consumed by “the fair diva and her protege, excepting an occasional afternoon cup. Before going to the opera two cups of strong English breakfast tea are taken. She entertains the strongest antipathy to desert (save lemon ice) and elevators. Her hotel expenses amount to $65 per day,which inclue four servant?, wines, and carriages, which the warbler pays without the slightest hesitaricy as the same accommodations were never attained in Europe j/or less than SIOO dollars per day. For an hour preceding the opera last evening the ladies’ promenade rang with the melodies escaping from parlors 5 and 7. At 7:45 Mme. Castellan came tripping down the stairs, wrapped in a charming mantle of white Russian T weed. Her head was covered with a billet of Spanish point lace, and her dress of ivbry-brocaded satin, cut ala Pompadour, had pointed panier drapery garnished with cut crystal and lace. Ten minutes later the cook emerged with a porter, who zealosly eyed the canvas-covered trunk marked “A. P.” that occupied his truck. Signor Nicolini popped his head out of the door, and his valet was seen wildly gesticulating with ' a little Frenchman with" very small pedals engulfed by a pair of yawning unmentionables. The two maids shot across the hall and then shot back again; there was a grating of door knobs, a squeaking of doors, and the lovely songstress emerged, followed by seven faultless evening suits. A pair of the blackest eyes and the pinkest cheeks were relieved by a dainty fascinator of creamy silk lace. A mantilla of black silk velvet, bordered with a strip of Siberian ermine eight inches wide, partially concealed one of the most magnificent dresses that ever came from the studio of Mme. Roder-

igue, of Paris. A long flowing robe of isatin de Lyon of the most lovely turquois blue had a soft shell plaiting running the entire circuit of the court train, and formed a frieze for four overlapping ruffles of Maltese point lace barely perceptible at the toe. The train hung perfectly plain .from the pouf, fitting over a faint tournure of hair cloth. The paniers were embroidered to a semi-tablier. which originated at the shoulder shield, following the pointed bodice, and failing over the petticoat in deeply cleft rosettes. On r eaching the knee, the tablier receded latterally and paneled the entire base of the skirt. This tablier was a piece of Japanese embroidery wrought in gold and silver on a foundation of cloth shot with iridescent passemeterie. Egyptian Jiffies, convolvuli, and magnolia roses were in bas relief, the hand work of a skillful art embroiderer. The union of the front with the panels of the train was covered by cascades of old point lace. Over the left hip an angle of lace formed a most inviting receptacle for an elongated bouquet of crushed pink roses. The Josephine bodice was supplemented by a Roi-de-JEtome ruff, and the acute Corsage,faced with a trio of lace ruffles, was garnished with roses screened with lace. Marguerite sleeves of embroidery lined with satin and lace facings which barely covered the elbow, and a pair of mousquetaire unglazed kids of amethyst tan covered the arms. All her jewels were left in abusive Cincinnati, and the gorgeous embroidery had no radiance with which to divide favors. ■Finally her petticoats were of silkembroidereti French flannell and Irish linen, heavy with thread lace and woven flounces of insertion and em--1 broidery.

An Ex-Slave’s Reminiscences.

Philadelphia Record. After a lapse of thirty-three years Airs. Ellen Craft is revisiting the city where once she was welcomed by friendly Quakers as a fugitive slave. There yet remain a goodly number of Abolitionists who can remember the Craft excitement of 1848, in the early days of the struggle for negro independence, and the younger generation have become acquainted with the eventful story of the lady through the writings of Lydia Maria Child, the oratory of Julia Ward Howe and the thrilling history of the underground railroad. Mrs. Craft is a well-preserved lady of fifty-five years, the only indication of her age being the few streaks of gray in her long, straight, black hair. She bears no traces ofhercolored origin, her skin being as white as that of a Caucasian,“while her address is polished and her conversation stamps net as being-possessed of high intellectual attainments. “Memories of days gone by rise up

before me as I go through the streets of Philadelphia,” saidMrs.-Craft yesterday afternoon to a party of friends who had gathered? to greet her at Professor Gilbert'aMCbnservittory of Music, on Twentieth v street, * near Berks. “Except for the feeling of security,” she continued, “it seems but yesterday since I was a fugitive slave hidden within a few miles of here, and dreading day and night* that my place of rest would be discovered by the kidnapers who were on mv trail. Ohl but those were stirring days, never to be forgotten. It is an old story, butone worth' repeating. When myself and my husband determined to an effort to gain our freedom it was arranged that I should dress as a man, and that William shoifiki -act as my servant. But to this plan there was one great obstacle. Travelers were required’tb register their names ’at the Custom House and hotels, and to sign a certificate for the slaves who accompanied them. Not having been educated, I could not write, but finally, after much sinking of heart, we hit upon the device of poulticing my right hand and carrying it in a sling r so as to have an exettee for asking the officers to write my flame for me. Then, so that my smoothness of chin might not betray me, I tied a bandage around my chin as though I was troubled with toothache. A suit of men’s clothes, a silk hat—one of the old-fashioned style, with high body and narrow flat brim—and close cropped hair completed the disguise. How we managed to travel the thousand miles between Florida and Philadelphia without being detected seems like a miracle. At all the principal hotels on the way I was the “invalid gentleman from the South,” and at times I was compelled to sit at dining tables and converse with meu who had knowju me as a slave. Finally, however, after running great risks, we landed in Philadelphia with our hearts in our mouths. We were driven to the colored hotel, then on Pine street, and I shall never forget how surprised and perplexed the landlord, looked when, half an hour after our arrival, I came down stairs in woman’s garments. When our presence became known we were called upon by many warmhearted Abolitionists, one of whom, Barclay ivens, induced us to spend h few weeks at his country farm at Byberry, just above the Purves homestead. From here we went to Boston, where,thanks to William Lloyd Garrison, Wendell Phillips, Theodore Parker and others, we lived in peace and happiness until 1850, when the fugitive slave law was passed and a pair of slave catchers came on from the South to take us back. Then it was that the : Craft excitement was at its height. The colored people held mass-meetings of protest, and 200 of them armed themselves and vowed that would defend us to the death. Fortunately, however, bur difficult position was solved by some kind friends,who put us on board a ship for England, and our troubles were at an end.”

The Welsh Maid.

Rambles in South Wales, Sykes, That any employment for women should rank below that of domestic servant in popular estimation, is an idea which strikes the American mind as quite a novelty. An American girl will do almost anyth ng rather than be a servant. A factory girl ranks in the United States as a far more important member cf society than a domestic servant. This is not the case in Wales, nor, I believe, in Great Britain generally. The servant girl holds herself far higher in the social scale than the tip girl,or.indeed any other girl who works with her hands, unless it be the- girl “in business,” as the phrase is. A girl “in business” is what Americans politely caff a “saleslady,” though in Great Britain she is not infrequantly a seller of gin and beer —in other words, a barmaid. Bar keepers of the masculine gender, it may be remarked by the way,are nearly unknown in Wales,unless as an exotic of American origin. The masculine bar-fender of America is an outgrowth of pioneer roughness—a condition of society in which pistols and bowie-knives were many and women few.. There is, hardly a bettfer servant in the world than a really good Welch maid. She more nearly approaches the best French model than any other I have known. 01 course she has not the training in certain polished customs which the French servan t has, but her deftness, alacrity, Jand politeness are equally great. T rhe politeness of a servant to an employer is as clear and fair a thing as any politeness on earth. Its absence is great loss to both parties; in America it is very generally absent, its expression being thought servility. The servant in Wales who is not polite is thought to be lacking the social culture befitting his or her station. The wages of servants, while very much below those common in the United States, are, as a rule, better than the earnings of any other women on their social plane. 4

Sick of Huge Newspapers.

Springfield Republican. A St. Loujs paper boasts that it used eighty miles of paper in one day’s edition—and with more “padding” there could have been more boasting. The manifold supplements to Western news papers, by which an eight-page sheet is extended to 16, 20 or even 32 pages, have fairly become a public griovance, but it looks as if their days were numbered. There is univesal complaint among readers, and this, and the successes recently made by some small papers, seems to be teaching alesson. The Chicago Times which intqduced the fashion of big supplements, along with a good many other things peculiar to Western journalism, is now sticking pretty closely ito its legitimate eight Eages, and the Western ope that the day of more editing and less space, more news and less words, is near at hand. The Times will also take another step toward Eastern models by discontinuing the use of circus poster type in its advertising columns, In speaking of fire-proof buildings, the American Architect says: ..“The ordinary so-called fire-proof structures, consiting of a granite shell enclosing naked iron beams, carrying brick arches, and supported by ; unprotected cast-iron colums. in point of security against fire are little better than frames of timber and plank, and far inferior to timber frames coveredjwith wire cloth and plastered.” Fobty-six new cases of small-pox were reported in Cincinnati last week.

TABLE TALK.

St. John, the temperance Governor °/ Kansas, has officiary recognized the claims of women to official station by appointing Mrs. Cora M. Downs, of Wyandotte, to be a regent of the State University. A lover undertook to commit suicide in the presenfee of the girl who rejected him at Chattanooga, but she prevented him by force, first dashing a bottle of poison from his bands, and then, after a hard struggle, dispossessing him of a razor. Two women called on a Maine dentist simultaneously, one to have all her teeth extracted and the other only three. The dentist mistakenly put the latter under the influence of ether, and rendered her toothless. A j ury will estimate the damage. Minnie Brooks, a Chicago white woman, (drew public attention to herself a year ago oy turning her beer garden into a religious meeting house, and taking the lead in revival meetings held therein. She has now become conspicuous aneyv by marrying a negro. There exist in the Bengal Presidency 111 vernacular papers, with 36,000 subscribers. Forty-five of these, with a circulation of 20,000, are published in Lower Bengal, and the remainder in the Northwest provinces, the Punjaub, central India, and Rajpootana. Mr. Walter Powell,M. P., who is now given up as lost in a balloon ascent, was 39 years old, and he sat as a Conservative for Malmesbury since 1868. For many years past he has been an enthusiastic aeronaut, and has crossed St. George’s Channel to Ireland, and gone over to France several times. The Temperance Celonization Ho* ciety of Canada, intends to establish a colony of total abstainers on a large scale. A million acres of Government land has been secured for the purpose, and people who hate alcohol are invited to settle on it; the farms being sold at slightly less than the established price. It is to be presumed that restaftrants are cheaper in Jerusalem than in New York, for the benevolent Sir Mosee Montefioresent to that city 97 shillings for the entertainment of that number of poor arid learned men,'97 being his own age. Even poor and learned men here would scarcely be grateful for a 25-cent meal.

Victoria Stinson has just received S6O, in Toronto, because she happened to be born in a military barrack at Aidershot, England, while Queen Victoria was visiting the building. Her Majesty named the baby after herself, and deposited $25 in a bank, to be paid to her at the age of 21. The principal and interest have now been paid. Some British shipownershave begun to man their vessels with negro seamen exclusively, the officers alone being white men. They take them at the same wages as ordinary English or foreign seamen. Those who have tried the experiment state that they find colored men as good sailors as Europeans, and that they are more docile and less inclined to run away. A stone bridge to be built at Minneapolis bids fair to become one of the notable structuies of the world, it will consist of sixteen 80 ,eet spansand four 100 fpet spans, and, including the shore pieces, will have a total length of 1,800 feet. It will support two railway tracks at a height of over sixty feet above the water, and will run diagonally across the river below St. Anthony’s Falls. The cost is estimated at nearly $500,000. Ex-Gov. R. C. McCormick has purchasedJl6,ooo acres of land in the State of Colima, on the Pacific coast of Mexico. and is going into the business of coffee culture on a large scale. He has 40,000 thousand trees in bearing now and expects Jto plant 12,000 per year for fonr years to come. In order to encourage this industry, the State will remit for a period of ten years all duty on the coffee and all taxes on the land wheie it is grown An English sleuth hound, which at Blackburn, in England, detected with keen scent the spot where portions of the body of a child murdered and chopped up by the barbarous assassin were buried, has been brought to Dunkirk, Scotland, to try and discover the spot where the body of the Scotch; Earl Crawford, which was stolen from its vault,’ mav have been buried or hidden. But the Earl had been in his grave so long that there is.not the scent of fresh blood, as in the Blackburn case, to guide the hound.

Striker Stowe’s Strength.

Observer. Striker Stowe was a tall, powerful Scotchman, whose position as “boss striker” at the steel works made him generally known. Nearly all of the men in this departmant were hard drinkers, and he was no exception to the rule. But one day it was announced among .the workmen that he had become religious, and, sure enough, when pressed to take a drink, he said: “I shall never drink mair, lads. No droonkard can inherit the Kingdom o’ God.” The knowing ones smiled and said: “Wait a bit. Wait until hot weather —until July. When he gets as dry as a gravel pit he will give in. He can’t keep it.” But right through the ho’test months be toiled, the sweat pouring off in streams; yet he seemed never to be tempted to drink. Finally, as I was taking the men’s time one evening, I stopped and spoke with him. “Stowe,” said I, “you used to take liquor. Don’t you miss it?” “Yes,” said he, emphatically. “How do you manage to keep away from it?” “Weel, just this way. It is now 10 o’clock, isn’t it?” “Yes.” “Well,, to-day is the 2Qlh of the month. From 7 to 8 I asked that the Lord would help me. He did did so. an* I put down a dot on the calendar, right near the 20. From Bto 9 He kept me, an’ I put down another dot. From 9to 10 He’s kept me, an’ noo I gie Him the glory as I put down the third dot. Just as I make these I* pray: ‘O Lord halp me—halp met» fight it off for another hourv’-?’ “How lojng shall you keep this up?” I inquired. “All o’ my life,” 'was the earnest reply. “It keep- me sae full o’ peace an’ happiness that I wouldna. gje it up for anything. It is just as if He took me by the hand ar • -*: (Vark awa’, Striker Stowe, 'l’nl’S'i Je. Diana be fearfu’. You toek care o’ your regular wark an’ I’ll see to the de’il ah’ the thirst an’ they shallna trouble ye.” >