Rensselaer Republican, Volume 14, Number 24, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 March 1882 — Page 2

THE FL YIJSG HQ ÜBS. From morn’s first flush to the.twilight gray, Ever they hold on their silent way ; Through the flower-lit dawn of the dewy Spring, Onward they pass with undrooping wing, And summer leafage, and autumn showers, Behold the flight of the changing hours;, Swift birds of passage on pinions tree Crossing life’s resistless sea. The shade on the dial jourueys round, The steeples Utter their warning sound, And still with the inarch of their viewles* feet ' Bearing to mortals their burden meet, Of cloud or of sunshine, mirth or woe, In their long processions come and go The hour*, like hastening pilgrim band Biund for an unknown land. To the worn and weary hearts of some, With a sad and lingering step they *come, And the mournful print their track is left In perished hopes and affections rest; * And some with a gentle footfall pass, Like mid spring rain upon budding grass, mined hours all sweet and rife Wi.li the morning bloom of life. Oh, little we reck, as one by one Smiling they rise, and are straightway gone! Soitlyas melts the dew-drop crown From the crest of the foamy thistle-down; But when with their freight of love and light Far away from onr beaming sight. They have - floated down Time’s rushing stream. How bright, how fair they seem. Oh, watch we uow in the day of grace, Lest, when we have run our earthly race, When our souls in the shadow of death shall lie, On the awful verge of eternity, Lite’s hours shall stand, an accusing band, With the record dr a 1 in each phantom hand, t/1 wasted talents, brave vows uukept, And daily sin unwept!

THE INVISIBLE GIRL.

Having decided to finish the year in Italy, 1 looked around me for a dwelling, to lie had upon reasonable terms. I louud what I wanted in the outskirts of the ancient, city of Lucca, one of the loveliest spots, on the peninsula The house was quite new, and in every way desirable, while the rent asked for it was absurdly low. I questioned the agent in regard to this circumstance Having my money safe, he could afford to be truthful. “There is nothing against the house itself, but the grounds have the reputation of being haunted. Strange sounds are said to be heard near the ledge of rock in the park yonder. We Italians are superstitious, signor,” he added, with a bow, “but I presume to an American a ghost is no objection.” “So little,” I replied, laughing, “that I am obliged to you for the opportunity of making the acquaintance of this one.” Such superstitions are common in Italy, and the agent's story made very little impression upon me. During a tour of inspection around the premises, I came upon the rock in question. It consisted of two wails of granite, perhaps twenty feet in height, meeting at an ob’ique angle, covered aver their greater extent with wild vines. It struck me as au exceedingly beautiful nook, and appropriate for my hours or outdoor lounging. On the following morning, provided with a book and a cigar, I wejt thither and disposed myself very comfortably in the shade of an olive. I had become absorbed in the volume, when I was startled oy the sound of a voice near me. It was’ evidently that of a woman, soft and sweet, singing one of the ballads of the country. I could distinguish the words as perfectly as if spoken at arms length from me. I started up in amazement. 1 had no visitors, and my only servant was an old man. . .Nevertheless, I made a thorough exploration of the neighborhood, and satisfied myself that there was no one in the grounds. The oniy public road was half a mile distant. Tne nearest dwelling was directly opposite, across a{levei plain—in sight, but tar out of ear shot. In a word, I could make nothing of it. I observed that when I left my original position under the olive, the voice became instantly sjlent. It was only within the circumference of a circle of about two yards in diameter that it was audible at ail. It appeared to proceed from the angle between tne two wails ot rock. Tne minutest examination failed to reveal anything but the bare rock. Yet it was out of this bare rock that the voice issued. I returned to my former station in downright bewilderment. 'The agent’s story occurred to me, but even uow I attached no weight to it. lam a practical man, and was firmly convinced that there must be some rational explanation of the mystery, if I could but discover it. The voice was centaiuly that of a young girl. But where w r as she? Was the pld fable of the wood nymph a truth after all? Had I discovered a dryad embosomed in the rock? I smiled scornfully even as these fancies ran through my head. For more than half au hour the singing continued. Theu it ceased, aud, though I waited patiently for its renewal, I heard no more of it that day. When I returned to the house I made no mention of the matter, resolving to keep it to myself until I had solved the mystery. The next morning at an early hour I returned to the spot. After a tedious interval the singing began again. It w ? ent softly and dreamily through one verse of song, then ceased. Presently I heard a deep sigh, aud then in a slow throughtful tone, the voice said: ~ ' “Oh, how lonesome it is! Am I to pass my whole life in this dreary place?” T There was no answer- Evidently the person was only soliloquizing. Could she hear me if I spoke, as I heard her? supposiug her to be a living being at all. I determined to hazard the experiment. “Who is it that is speaking?” I asked. i'or some minutes there was no reply; theu in a low, frightened whisper, the voice said: “What was it? I heard a voice!” “Yes,” I answered; “you heard mine. I spoke to you,”

“Who are you?” asked the voice, tremulously; “are you spirit?” “I am a living man,” I returned. “Can you not see me?” ( ‘No.” answered the voicefT can only hear you. Oh, where are you? Pray do not frighten me. Come out of your concealment and let me see you.” * “Indeed. I don’t wish to alarjnyou,” I replied. “I am not hidden. I am standing directly in front of the spot whence your voice seems to come.” “You are invisible,” was the trembling anewer. “Your voice comes to me out of the air. Holy Virgin! yop must be a spirit. What’have I done to deserve this?” i “Have no fear of me, I entreat you,” I said earnestly. “It is as much of a mystery to me as it is to you. I hear you spe*ak, but you are otherwise invisible.” “Are you a real living beiug?” asked the voice doubtfully, “Then why do I not see you? Come to me. I wiil sit here. I will not fly.” “Tell me where lam to come,” I said. “Here in my garden in the arbor.” “There is no arbor here,” I retuned, “only a solid rock, out ot which you setm to be -peaking.” “Hainesprotect me,” answered the voice. It is too awful. I dare not stay here longer. Spirit or man, farewell.” “But you will come again,” I pleaded. “Let me hear you speak once more. Wili you not come here at the same hour?” I dare not—but yet your voice souuds-as if you woulddo me no harm. Yes, I will come.” Theu there was utter silence—the myslerious speaker had gone. I returned home in a state of stupid winder, questioning myself if I had lost my senses, and if the whole occurence was not a delusion. I was faithful co my appointment with the voice on the following morning, however. I had waited but a few minutes, when the soft, trembliug acceuts broke the silence saying: “I am here.” “And I too,” I answered; “I am grateful to you f r coming.’ “I have not slept the whole night,” said the voice, “I was so terrified. Am i doing wrong to coma?” “Are you still afraid of me?” “Not exactly, but it is so strange.” “Will you tell me your uame?” “I dou’t know—Leuore. What is yours?” “George.” I answered imitating hes example and giving my first name only. “Shall we not be friends, Lenore?” “Oh, yes”’ answered the voice with a silvery peal of laughter. Evidently its owner was getting over her fears. “Don't be clteuded, George. It is so strange—two people who cannot see each other and perhaps never will, making friends.” “I will solve the mystery yet, Lenore,” I auswered, “aud find out what you are. Would you be giad to see mein my proper person?” “Yes,’’ she replied, “I should like to see you.” \ “And I would give a great deal to see you, Lon ore. You must be very beautiful ii your face is like your voice ” “Oh, hush!” was the agitated answer. “It is not right to speak thus.” “Why not? Do you know, Lenore, that if this goes on, I shall end by fall-* ing in love with you, though I neyer see you.” “You are very audacious,” was the j reply. “If you were realiy nere, before ! me. I should punish you for it. As it is, I am going now.” “But you will come again to-mor-row. Lenore?”

“if you promise to be more discreet, j George, yes.” - As may be imagined, I did not fail to keep my engagement with my invisible friend. For many consecutive days these strange meetings continued. As absurd as it may seem, the voice was beginning to make a powerful impression upon me. I felt ih its soft tones the manifestation of a sweet, refined woman’s soui. True, I bail made no progress towards unraveling the mystery. Nevertheless. I was confident that through some inexplicable dispensation of Providence I had oteu permitted to hold cemmunion with a real, living, lovely woman, from au unknown distance. She bad not yet told me more than her first name, and I did not press her for more as yen Iler only answer tomy question as to where she was, was, ‘ln the garden.” She did not seem eaoatfie of grasping the fact that I was not iuvisioly near her. She seemed content with matters as they stood, and for the present I could do no more, I made no one my confident as to my daily occupation; first, because I knew that I should be regarded as a madman upon my mere statement of tbe tacts, and, next, because I shrank from having au auditor at my mysterious ccmfereuegs. Will it be believed? I was in 1m with the invisible girl—in love with a voice! Absurd, of course, but I am apt the first man who has fallen iu love with a woman's voice. Besides, I was confident that it was only a matter us time before I should see'the girl in person. G»e day, towards the end of Bummer, we had been talkiug.as usual, aud I had said: “My stay in Italy is nearly over, Lenore.” “Ah,.” was the quick repy, “you will leave me, George?” “No, L-nore,” I answered, “not if you wish me to stay.” “How can I help it, George, whether you go or stay? I have never: seeu you; I never shall see you. What am Ito you?” / “Ail the world, Leuore,” I answered. “Ours has been a strange experience. Without knowing each other as people ordtuarialy do, we have yet been close friends. You are more to me than a friend. I love you, Lenore.” There was a quick, suppressed cry, no other reply. I “Be truthful, Leuorq. Tell me your

heart. If you love me, trust me to discovert your whereabouts and come to you. if you do not, say it and I will spare you the pain of meeting me, and let us never speak again.” There was a pause; then she tremulously said: “I have never s?en you, but my heart tells me to trust you. I know you are good and noble, and I am willing to leave my fate in your hands. Yes, George, I love you.” Even as she said the words she uttered a cry of alarm. Then a gruff man’s voice spoke: “Go to your room, Leonore. As to this villain with whom you have been holding these secret meetings, we shall soon find him and punish him, as he deserves. Search for the rascal, Antonio, and bring him to me.” There was a quick trampling of feet and crushing snrubbery, as if the men were breaking through it. Then another man’s voice spoke: “He has disappeared, your excellence.” “Yery vrell, we shall find him yet. He cannot escape me. This is a fine piece of business, surely—the daughter of Count Villani holding secret meetings with some common vagabond. Lenore shall take the veil.” •'Yes,” I cried, the bridal vefl.Count. I shall pay my respects in person today.” Then leaving them to get over their astonishment as best they might, I returned to tiie house iu high spirits. The name, Count Villani, had given me the clew to the whereabouts of Lenore. The dwelling of which I have spoken as situated across the plain,and opposite the rock, was the residence of Count Villani. I had met the old gentleman in the city, and formed a speaking acquaintance with him. As neither of us bad mentioned our private affairs, I had no means of connecting his daughter with my invisible girl. That afternoon I presented myself to the Count, and after amazing him with my story, which a few tests convinced him was true, formally proposed for his daughter’s hand. As my wealth and social position were well known, he offered no objections, and his daughter was sent for. As she entered the -room, I saw that my idea of her had been less tnan true I had never seen so lovely a woman, nor one who so perfectly embodied my highest conception of grace and beauty. Her dark eyes, still wet with tears, met mine inquiringly. “Lenore,” said 1, “I have come as I promised.” “George,” she cried, with a radiant smile, “is it you?” “Are you disappointed?” I asked, “am I what you expected?” “You could not be more,” she answered naively, “you are no less.” “Now that we meet as solid an material beings,” I continued, “are you willing to ratify ihe contract we made when we were only voice. Lenore? Your father gives us permission.” It may be supposes that I received a satisfactory’ answer, when the good* matured count found it discreet to turn away his eyes during my reception of it. As to the strange circumstance which was the means of uniting us, a series of tests revealed * remarkable acoustic property in the rocki by which persons standing in certain positions ; with reference to it, were able to bear , eacn other with ease, mote thana; quarter of a mile apart. It is a matter- j of-fact solution of the mystery, but! Lenore and I are none the the less ! grateful for the good offices of the ' rock.

Mrs. Partington at the Soldiers’ Bazaar.

[B. P. Shillaber.Jn Sword'& Pen] It was at a distinguished party,called by the ladies in aid of the Soldiers’ Bazaar, that Mrs. Partington found herself, as well as she could for the crowd. There was much said in support of the object, aud a warm enthusiasm prevailed, amouutieg at times to loud mgn ifestations of approval. “Quite a furore.” the President of the meeting remarked to the dame w ho sat beside him. “A few roar !” she replied, her spectacles flashing with -excitement. , “I sliould call it a good mauy roar, and everybody seems willing to exhilara’e the movement. How much we owe the soldiers who made sacrement of themselves for us, and laid down their arms and legs only When the Union was saved !’? “Yery true,” responded the President “and I trust that all are willing to admit their iudebtuess.” “They may be,” replied she; “but I feared it was something like Mrs. Hite’s borrowing my eggs and saying she would always be indebted to me for them; as she was for she never paid ’em hick.” The President looked a little annoyed. S >on tberg,came another shout. “Donk you think,” she these lew roars should have been perpetrated when the war was over, and not lelt the women to do what was iucumheml the men ?” “Perhaps,” replied her interlocutor, “but better late than never.” “It came nigh being too late ” said she, “with the poor legless horse.s running to their long home through a poor house gate; but thank Heaven, some will have a comfortable home to go to, after this,-where they can smoke the calumny of peace, without even a taxcollector to make ’em a'raid.” She wa3 wearying, but she meant well. Ebery provision ob nature may be wUe, 1 I doan’ see why a body should buuei so in ciutin’ teeth. A dog doan’ iiab no trouble, nederdoes a coon, but natur gives fits to de baby. And dis, de preachers tell me, is on account ob de political trickery ob Adam. I’se glad dat he was counted out ob de garden ob Eden. Everybody what walks de flo’ wid a teethin’ chile is a natural enemy to daf man. Mrs. Mary Clemmer, the writer is, it is reported, about to contract a second marriage.

TRAVEL IN SIBERIA.

An interesting Descripton of tlie Trials attending the .Jeannette Aretic Expedition. Col:* Thomas W. Knox has written the following letter in regard to the search for the Jeannette sufferers: “Lieut. Danenhower and his comrades are about to leave Irkutsk for St. Petersburg on their way to the United Stated, and two officers of our navy have just been ordered to Siberia to assist iu the search for Capt. DeLong aud the missing men. It has therefore been suggested to me that a brief discription of the Siberian post road which these parties will travel would be specially interesting at this time. “In November, 1666, I' left Irkutsk for St. Petersburg; the terminus of tbe railway was then at Nijui Novgorod, 3400 miles from the former city. Winter is the best time for travel iu Siberia, as the roads are smoother than at other seasons of the year, and one is not annoyed by dust and mosquitoes. If you travel bv the post vehicles belonging to tbe station masters > r ou must change at every station, aud trahsfe of yourself and baggage fouj* or fiive times a day, with the thermometer below zero, is the reverse of pleasant. Consequently most persons prefer to buy a carriage or a sleigh at starting, and sell it for what it will bring as the end of the route. I became tne owuer of a ‘kibitka,’ or one half-open sleigh, which somewhat resembles a New England chaise, greatly elongated. There wasabundant room for two of us. aud we could be at lull length on our furs and baggage, or sit half upright with pillows enough to wedge us closely into our places. At uight or iu a storm we could lower a hood at the top aud fasten it to a thick apron from below,so that we were fairly proeteettd from severe weather. Baggage is iu flat valises of soft leather, and spread over the bottom of the sleigh; the crevices and chinks are filled with straw, a layer of furs or sheepskins covers the whole, and on this you sit or lie at your pleasure. It is judicious to lash it with ropes to preveu its tumbling out on top of you iu case of an upset. The post stations are from 10 to 20 miles apart, aud trom Irkutsk to Nijui Novgorod I changed horses aud drivers 206 times, and was drawn by not far from 1000 horses altogether. On arriving at a station you present your paderojiua, or road pass, to the station master, and demand horses ;if your pa-s is of a high order you will get them at once, but if there is no reason why he should expedite you, he may keep you waiting several hours, or until you bribe him into supplying your wants. The road pass is only obtainable from the authorities, and as horses cannot be supplied without it, there is no chane of an ‘irregular’ person traveling about the country. Tne pass states your name and residence, the number of hoises you are entitled to demand and pay for,* and also states very explicitly your destination. The ordinary team is three horses, aud each horse is to be paid ior at the rate of a kopeck a and half per verst—about a cent and hall per mile. Tue driver expects a small fee at the end of his course, so that the expense of being drawn ever a Siberian road is about five cents a mile for two persons. If the roads are good you are carried aloug at fine speed, especially if you hiut that a liberal fee will be forthcoming. It is not unusual to make tenor twelve miles an hour, aud not unfrequently thirteen miles would be covered iu that time. The performance of a Russjau driver is something rather trying to a nervous person; he descends hills at a breakneck speed and is utterly regardless of sbaKiug you up. Late iu winter the roads are full of nollows, or “hog-wallows,” especially on the hill side-, and when a team is driven over them at a gallop the sleigh jumps in a manner a great deal moie than exhilerating. As ldng as the v. hide preserves its integrity the driver pays it no attention. This sort of thing brings on what the Russians call the road fever; the pulse is high, aud every bound of the sleigh forces the blood through the veins at a fearful pressure. Your head seems ready to burst, and the :eeling at each jar of the vehicle, is very much as though somebody was trying to drive a railroad spike into your skull. The fever generally subsides in two or three da\s, but sometimes it is so severe that the traveler becomes delirious and must take several hours of rest at each stage. “I followed the Russian plan in preparing for the journey. I had fur socks over my ordinary ones,fur stockings outside the socks, and fur boots inclosing all. Over my ordinary clothing I wore a sheepskin coat with the wool inside aud fastening tight around the neck. Outside of this was a deerskin coat that touched the ground when I stood erect, and was large enough inside for a man aud a boy; its collar was a foot wide, aud the sleeves, six inches longer than the arms inside, were very inconvenient when I tried to pick up "any thing. Fur clothing in such amount is a personal incumbrance, but without it the traveler would suffer from the severe cold* The lowest temperature I experienced on the road was 40° below zero. A bottle of champagne became perfectly solid tbe first day of the sleigh ride, and I discovered a tendency to crystallization iu a bottle of poor brandy that belonged to my companion. “Thousrh the frost cannot penetrate a traveler's furs, it constautiy assails his face aud congeals the moisture of his breath; beard and furs frequently freeze together and render sudden movements inconvenient. A moustache becomes a double ended icicle in a short time, and a lady will soon tell you that her veil is soon converted into a good counterfeit of a wire screen. -It was a season of fastiug when I made my journey, and the stations could not be relied on for any provisions, except bread and eggs, unless we include hot water for making tea. Russians drink vast quantities of tea while traveling,

aud many who are addicted to stimuJ lasing drinks while at home abstain from tuem altogether on tbe road and drink nothing but tea. We carried most of our provisions in a frozen state and thawed them out at the stations as we wauted them. Soup was in cakes like smail tricks,and|roast b€6f rpspmbled red granite. We had a bag of pil. mahia—a Russian preparation of little meat balls covered with au envelope of dough—and this Ibag was our great reliauce. The contents were like walnuts from the effects of the frost • a double handful dropped in a gallon’of water and boiled for five minutes made a substantial soup or stew, and we found this article of sustenance more convenient than any other. “Along the road there was little change of scenery. Tbe country is undulating, but not broken, aud in some places there are plains that resemble our western prairies. The landscape, or rather snowscape, is monotonous aud wearisome, except where it is crossed by rivers and the few ranges of hills along the route. The villages containingrthe stations were from ten to twenty miles apart, and generally built in a single street. Out-side of nearly every village was a block-house, where exiles are lodged on their way to the places of their banishment; the movements of these involuntary emgrauts are so timed that only a given number are lodged in any one bouse t the same time—not so much iu consideration of the comforts the exiles as through fear of attempts at revolt and escape. While the horses were changed at the stations, we had the option of entering the house or staying outside; we generally did the latter, except at meal times, as the change from several degrees below to sixty or seventy above is not altogether agreeable. The rooms of Russian houses are warmed by brick stoves, and among the peasants the top of the stove is the favorite sleeping place. At night we used to stir the drivers out from where they were being slowly baked; their toilets were quickly preformed, as it only included douniug a sheepskiu coat aud buckling a belt around the waist, and then they were ready for a drive of two or three hours through au arctic temperature. “The most perilous part of the journey is across the Baiahinsky Steppe in Western Siberia, a plain a thousand miles wide, and often swept by severe storms. The snow is whirled in blinding masses, the wind, if blowing from the north, is bitter cold, and not infrequently men and horses perish. Travel ceases during these storms, and sometimes those who venture to brave them never reach their desiiuation. Wolves abound here, and many stories are told of their ferocity, but they are less dangerous than in Western Russia, where the population is more dense and game less abundant than in Siberia; even there they never attack nten except in the severest wiuters when hunger has made them desperate. “A Siberian journey generally begins iu the evening, and is continued day and uight until its end. The government couriers will go from Irktusk to Moscow iu fourteen or fi teen days under favorable circ-amstauces, but a move diguified aud less fatiguing pace will cover the distance iu twenty-two or twenty five days. The larger the party the slower will be its progess, and it is not likely that Lieut. Dauenkovver aud his comrades will arrive at St' Petersburgb iu less than a month from their departure from Irktusk. They will be certain to receive all possible attention from Russians along the route, aud it is by no means improbable that they may bs detained a day or two. iu each of the half a dozen towns, in order t*>at the inhabitants can have have an opportunity of showing their sympathy for the survivors of the lost Jeauuette aud their good will for all Americans.

Women in Washington.

[Washington Letter.] The crowd of women who made it a regular duty to spend the day at the Guiteau triafl beiug now deprived of that iuteiesting method of wasting their time, will uow fill the Senate and House galleries for the rest of the season. Because a few prominent west : eud ladie% were cuiious enough to spend a day now and then watching Guiteau s antics, it suddenly became a fashion to do so, and to many the scene was so faciuating that they rarely missed a session of the court. Indeed, Washington is particularly well supplied iu the matter of genteel loafing places. The public buildiugs invite inspection, while other places here ofenational interest, watching the proceedings of Con gress aud wandering throughdhe Capitol labyrinths,afford a pleuty of opportunity ior this class of well-dre.-sed men and women, who seem to have literally nothing else to do. Thecongressional proceedings are, of course, the most attractive, and the accommodations for the loungers restful and convenient. Well, this is a free country, aud talkers must have audiences.

The Lion and the Lady.

[Boston Post.] Mrs. Lincoln, who raised aud petted a pair of lion cubs on Howard street a few years ago, on Thursday paid a visit to one of them, the lion Emperor. The huge beast recognized her and manifested his delight by the most extravgant demonstrations. He licked her hand, sprang up, and placing his paws on the grating, tried to lorce his head between the bars. Mrs. Lincoln laid her face against his vast jaws and put her arms through the bars around his neck, and the monstrous animal purred like a cat. He put out his paw to “shake nauds” at his mistress’ command, and then, as if overcome with joy, laid down aud rolled over and over, uttering meanwhile queer little grunts and growls, and behaving altogether like a frisky kitten. - ■■■-■■—.— During the year just passed 322,934 tons of poal were mined in the state of Alabama!