Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 5, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 October 1874 — Page 1

HORACE E. JAMES Sc JOSHUA HEALEY, Proprietors.

VOL. VII.

THE OLD FARM-HOEBE. At the foot of the hill, near the old red mill, In a cpriet, shady spot. Just peeping through, half hid from view, Stands a little moss-grown cot, And straying through at the open door, The sunbeams play on the sanded floor. The easy-chair, all patched with care, Is placed by the old hearth-stone; With witching grace, in the old fireplace, The evergreens are strewn, And pictures hang on the whitened wall, And the old clock ticks in the cottage hall. More lovely still, on the window-sill, The dew-eyed flowers rest, While midst the leaves on the moss-grown eaves The martin builds her nest, And all day long the summer breeze Is whispering love to the bended trees. Over the door, all covered o'er With a sack of dark-green baize, Lays a musket, whose worth is told In the events of other days; And the_powder flask, and the hunter’s horn, Have hung, beside it for many a morn. For years have fled, with noiseless tread, Like fairy dreams away, And left in their flight, all shorn of its might, A father—old and gray; And the soft wind plays with his snow-white hair, And the old man sleeps in his easy-chair. Inside the door, on the sanded floor, Light, airy footsteps glide, And a maiden fair, with flaxen hair, Kneels by the old man’s side— An old oak wrecked by the angry storm. While the ivy clings to its trembling form. —Rural New Yorker.

THE CRINKLETON MYSTERY.

Our grotesque teapot was an article decidedly ugly, wearing a permanent and disagreeable grin, and with a kind of snake arrangement for handle and spout. The gentle associations—the day’s labor -floneTib'rtfrawlngln'~Tdmnrtire~firertbe~ family circle, with the cheering and not inebriating results—seem wholly incompatible with the use of such an article; and the spectacle of the amiable, fluid poured from such a vessel by gentle hands almost a painful one. But I would not part with it for any money; it is held in affection like a cherished heirloom. Yet it is damaged—indeed, from the net- - work of lines and cracks which cover it, even an unprofessional could see that it had been “ smashed” into an hundred pieces at least. So it has. One day it got a fall —was dropped—and lay on the floor, shivered into a heap of fragments. The restoration, deemed impossible at first, was undertaken for a large sum of money, which was paid -with delight, for that fall brought about what you are now going to hear. I well recollect the day that my dear father secured it, and when he said it was “ a unique.” We could see no beauty in it, although w r e tried hard to do so; and as to its uniqueness, we rather thought that was an advantage *■ for the world, and, for the spread of taste. He was considered a general enthusiast, this Mr. Crinkleton, and, as I once overheard a brother amateur whisper to his friend, “like a particular saucer—all cracked: -anthfiended,” and, though I should not say it, still the conviction began to force itself on me of late years that, from over-devotion to this pursuit, he had grown a little odd. Not that he was one of the reckless, wasteful amateurs, with whom collecting is a passion as impossible to be resisted as drinking, and who devour and swallow everything with a reckless craving. He had the most surprising taste and judgment, and it was admitted that the choicest and most valuable portion of his collection had been gathered very cheaply, when he was a poor man. But I can see I have been assuming a good many things as known which there has not been time to tell. I, who have now the grotesque teapot in my hand, and am relating this story; was his son —a son that worshiped him and sympathized with what friends called his hobbyr though ! frankly own I never could understand how this plate was precious, or that jug was rare, or this “ bit” of Palissy worth more than the number of sovereigns that would cover its surface. I confess, indeed, I had a feeling, but it was one of repulsion, for those bro vn lizards which kept crawling over the green plates. However, he understood these things and I did not, though lie often offered to leach, or, rather, inspire, me. Gradually the house began to fill with these treasures. Corner shelves and cupboards appeared and were crowded. Cabinets became choke full, and the fame of the- “ Crinkleton Collection” began to spread. As is usual -in-such cases, public opinion was divided, one portion of the community laughing at and pitying that poor man who was wasting his own and the family substance in a lot of crockery and gallipots; the other looking knowing and saying that “ little old Crinkleton” knew well what he was about, and would, by and by, sell the collection for ten times the amount it cost him. It did, indeed, seem likely; for what he had bought for a few shillings he was now offered pounds. I was all .this time what is called “ a little thing” —a pet, dividing the affection of my father with his other treasures. That constitued our united family —I finding new relations every day in the shape of china dogs, Chelsea shepherds, Dresden beauties and Toby jugs. Oh, /the Battersea enamel snuff-boxes and wine labels! the tea urns of rare Bedlin! —but I must leave this subject, or I shall never get on. One day, however, there came a surprise, not to say a shock, for me. That queer little Crinkleton. as the neigbors and friends would call him, had brought some new treasures and curiosities. Alas! a step-mother and her daughter. They were very designing people, and, I believe, frightened him into it: "He was shrinking and timorous; he would never have had courage to carry such a scheme into execution. Thenceforth began a new and, for me, a terrible life. They brought no money with them, though he was persuaded that he was doing what is called “ a good thing.” They very soon convinced him of the contrary. Two more rapacious spoilers could not be conceived' Every moment in the day they were making an inventory of “ the property” about-Ahem with a questioning eye. An order was sternly set forth that all buying was to be given up, and that “ good money” was no longer to be squandered on rubbish. Y*et it could be seen that 'with an extraordinary

THE RENSSELAER UNION.

inconsistency watched jealously over every article of the property, counting them and taking good care to ascertain their value. All our life in- that house was of a sudden changed. Our poor dear father seemed to shrink and cower away under this despotism. As for me, I felt that all happiness was gone and that I was living in a prison under the charge of jailers. Many were the little furtive walks he took with me—l being no older than eight or ten years—when we would make our way guiltily to the narrow lane or street to"gaze at curiosities which he dared not purchase. It was miserable for me, whose hand was in his, to note his wistful looks, and even more miserable to see that this was but part of his sufferings under this slavery which grew more and more galling every day. It was on one of these occasions that we spied the grotesque teapot. The sight brought the color to his cheeks, for he had nothing of that pattern in the coleetion. It was exposed in a poor, mean little den —not a curiosity shop at all—a kind of huckster’s place. Here the teapot was offered with a view of finding some purchaser who would use it for the purpose of making tea. He was enraptured with it. He could at least ask the price. Four-and-sixpence —worth, he said, five guineas, and would be worth double by and by. As we went out it was offered for three-and-six. It was very tempting, but he resisted it then. The next day he took me out with him for a walk, but this was for a second inspection. He delayed long before he could make up his mind, but at last the imrchasewaemia.de. Then it..was. to b&brouglit home, and then came the difficulty. Where was it to be placed?—for their Argus eyes would detect the slightest change. But they had an instinct that something was wrong. The daughter was in the parlor window, looking up and down the street, while she—l always thought (lot her as though she were a unique, like the teapot —opened the door and gave a policeman-like look at his figure. The grotesque was hidden away under his coat, but a great protuberance revealed its place of concealment. We were both arrested, the trembling victim assailed by both women, and the grotesque confiscated on the spot, as, indeed, all his treasures had been already. I saw them later inspecting it curiously and with eager eyes, for they had a suspicion of its value, and aft§r all trusted to his judgment. Indeed, latterly I noticed that this pair w r as inspecting the cabinets; and more than once I had surprised them with their heads bent down over some little cup or figure. One day, too, I heard them talking earnestly about some one they called “ Dimbley’s man,” and what he had said. This did not make much impression, but in a day or two I airain heard mremark l about “Dimbley’s man,” to the effect that he was coming to-morrow. In our next little w r alk, grown curious about the matter, I asked my father: “ Who is Dimbley’s man, father?” He started, “ Why?” he said; “what about him? what doyou know about him? who wants him?” These questions were put quickly and with agitation. I told him wliat I had heard, when he almost gave a cry, and turned sharply round to go home. 1 ‘ I see what they are at. I suspected it. They want to sell the things.” We returned hurriedly —he was in a perfect fever, and, when he entered, fletv to inspect his treasures, which he found all safe, though he discovered the two women busily engaged in peering into the cabinets and handling them cautiously. But with them was a gentlemanly and fluent personage, who was giving his opinion and admiring the collection. He read the whole situation at a glance. The color flew to his cheeks, and, with vehemence that was wholly artificial and unnatural, he addressed the party. “I know well what all this means," he said; “ I’ll not have it —I’ll not allow it. It is robbery. I’ll not part with these things but with my life. Go away, sir,” he said to the gentlemanly man, “ this is my property. They are not to be valued or sold.” To do him justice the gentlemanly man was much put out at this incident, and declared truly that he had merely come, as he supposed, at Mr.. Crinkle ton’s request. And he took his .. departure at once. Then my father turned on them. “Let a finger be laid on my treasures,” he cried, “ and I will do something desperate. I’ll send them to-morrow to some museum—give them awav —sooner than have them scattered. Mind, take warning, for they are part of my life!” The two ladies were very much taken aback at this sudden explosion, and even tried to soothe him. But for the rest of the day he was terribly excited, and the following morning was lying ill in bed with wild eyes and all the symptoms of fever. A doctor was sent for to attend him —an eminent practitioner—who looked grave. Indeed, the two ladies caught the reflection from his face, and looked grave and disturbed. I was the only one whom he seemed to recognize, though indistinctly. Again there was fresh whispering, and inspection of papers and property. And again his eyes peered out wistfully toward the door, as if he could see the spectral images of his collection floating away in the direction of Dimbley’s.’ He grew worse and worse. To my inexpressible grief it one morning passed round the house in a mysterious way that we were to lose him. Some one came running for me, and took me by the hand to lead me to him. There was a piteous intelligence in his eye, and a gleam of light came into it as he saw me. He was moving his arms. and pointing, and trying to speak. The lady who was his wife kept turning up her eyes and shaking her head, as who should say his wits were gone. But he. kept his imploring glance fixed on me, making as though fie would clutch someting in jiis hand. I was sure I could have sworn it was one of his pet treasures, and stole away to rack my little brain with desperate attempts. At first I thought it must be two precious

RENSSELAER, JASPER COUNTY, INDIANA, OCTOBER 22, 1874.

figures of Old Bow, representing Kitty Clive and Woodward Martin, as the fine lady and gentleman, and I returned with these in my hands. A fresh eagerness came into his eyes, and he seemed to smile and nod his head, as though it was something near what he desired. Some curious stupidity came over me —or was it my trouble? for I surely ought to have guessed, and gone out to choose some other article, which should be the right one. While I was taking a hurried bird’s-eye glance over the collection they came running to me again, and I was dragged in to see the last friend I had on earth in his agony. #•■***** * So he passed away; and after a scarcely decent interval the two women were going about with avaricious eyes, counting up the treasures. This time there was no one to interfere with “Dimbley’s man,” and the eminent firm had pronounced that the whole, when submitted to competition at tlieir well-known mart, would bring a vast sum. By the will of the deceased collector, made shortly after his second marriage, the whole of the property was to go to her, and a small pittance was kept for us, that is, for me and my sister, who was at a cheap boarding-school. A great fuss began to be made about the Crinkleton collection, and it was discovered that another portion was at some museum in the country, where it had been exhibited, and which was quite as valuable as that in our house. The whole, it was expected, would bring £IO,OOO or £12,000. They were gloating over their prospect. We —that is, my "sister and I—would "be beggars, but that" they did not think about. —- By and by the inventory was taken, the catalogue made out, and the prospect discovered to be even more inviting. The men in green baize arrived to pack and carry aw r ay. Spring vans stood at the door. We saw the whole stripped gradually—there was not to be a relic kept (so I was told) to remind us of the dear old collector -who had brought them together. Very timorously I begged that they would let me choose something which I might keep as a souvenir; but an excuse was made that a list had been taken, and that it would be impossible to make any alteration now. Utterly shocked and almost desperate with rage at such heartlessness, 1 came to the resolution that I would have what I wanted, and determined to secure what was associated with one of the last acts •f my father’s life at which I had assisted, namely, the old teapot. That should be mine, and should not be subjected to the profanation of a sale. I did not care for the penalties, which I knew would be awful; they might put me to the torture, they should never know where I had concealed this relic. My plans were well laid. I chose a monielli wiien uiey liau. & uiit uui, duu, laK* ing no one into my confidence, prepared to execute the daring scheme. It was a nervous task. The teapot was placed, with a few other articles not yet removed, on a high bracket of antique pattern over the chimney-piece. Even standing on a chair R could not - reach it; was not to be daunted. I constructed a sort of ladder formed of chairs, which, with much trepidation, I ascended. I secured, the grotesque teapot; but. without ever having heard the Latin quotation, Facilis descensus , I found myself cordially indorsing its truth and stood there on a precarious balance carefully holding the treasure, and not knowing what to do next. To get dow r n and leave the teapot, it might be thought, would be the simplest course- but, with my nerand its own insecurity, the structure now began to totter. The next instant I heard her on the stairs. How it occurred I know not, but there followed a crash, I being left standing upon the insecure construction, while the old cherished teapot had slipped from mj r fingers, and was dashed into a hundred fragments on the hearthstonet They rushed in—l was dragged down, and in a storm of scoldings was hurried oft for punishment. It was inflicted with terrible severity, and I bore it without flinching. One thought was even then in my mind, to recover the shattered fragments, keep them in that condition, and perhaps one day, when I was richer, get them restored. When they were tired of scalding and beating, they had gone down-stairs; then, after waiting patiently, I w-atclred my opportunity and stole down. They had not thought it worth while to remove the fragments which lay there in a heap—the curved handle, the leering face, the spout, the lid. I gathered them up tenderly, and as I did so saw that a small piece of paper, folded up, was lying, as it-were, partially thrust into the spout. I took it up with the pieces, on the ground that it was a- relic of his that ought to be preserved, and reverently brought the whole mass away to my room. It seemed hopeless. I tried myself to put the pieces together in many different ways, but it was not to be done save by a miracle—a miracle, however, which skillful hands accomplishedr later. In a sort of despair 1 laid it aside, and then carelessly opened the paper. It wife signed with his name, which was sufficient to give it an interest for me. And yet this only made me feel more acutely the cruel loss of the piece of earthenware, which I felt that nothing could ever restore to us. It was a long time indeed before I set myself seriously to the task of making out what was written on the slip of paper. It began, “ Codicil to my will,” and stated that it revoked the bequest of a particular date, and left all his personal property and effects, including the china, which was to be sold off, to his two children. This I did not quite understand at the time, nor did I see the full forGe and meaning of it. But seizing a favorable opportunity I got out of the house, and hurried to a friendly Mr. Baker—of course bald and benevolent—to show it. He started! as 'he read. “ This makes a most important difference," he said; “you must leave it with me, and I will call up in the morning.’! Everything, as it proved, was ours. The cruel pair got nothing save the small

sum that had been settled on her at the time of her marriage. The collection brought a vast sum—much more, indeed, than anyone had ever anticipated. And the teapot, as I have already said, repaired with the most exquisite art, now reposes in a place of honor.— Cassell's Magazine.

Scientific Information.

If you know of any body who wears false hair it may be judicious to mention to them that Prof. Lindeman announces that he has discovered in the hair sold at the stores “ little nodosites collected in colonies of about fifty psorosperms which are sometimes spherical and sometimes flattened into discoids. When heat is applied they are transformed into pseudonavicellse or fusiform corpuscles.” Other people may do as they please, but as for myself I would rather pass onward down the vista of the years, beyond the purple boundaries of youth and into the serene placidity of a passionless old age as bald as a watermelon than to frisk about with nodosites and fusiform corpuscles in my hair. This information will be valuable for the purpose of detecting persons who, wear purchased tresses. When I go to church now and see discoid psorosperms playing their little pranks upon the heads of the woman in the pew in front of me, I will know that her coiffure is a base capillary fraud, and when I see a spherical nodosite parading around the rim of a man’s hat I will have sufficient evidence that the man wears a delusive wig. The Indians ought to know about this, for then, when One dashes up to a woman with a tomahawk in his hand, a knife inhis teeth, death in his eye, and a yearning for scalps in his heart, a glimpse of a pseudo-navicellae balancing itself on its hind legs on that woman’s waterfall will induce him to put up his artillery and go home in disgust. What the aboriginal American needs is scientific information.— Max Adeler, in Danbury News.

Now Eat Grapes.

Gentle reader, do you know the value of the grape? We are not speaking of the juice, nor of the wine, which may become a “ mocker,” nor of the brandy, which (still worse) may come to be a fatality; but our topic is the fresh, luscious, health-giving grape. For the elderly or the young people there is no more healthful fruit. No fruit now in market is cheaper; none is ever in finer condition at any season of the year than the ripe grapes of autumn. The various small fruits, such as strawberries, cherries, raspberries and blackberries, often get stale before they reach the hands of manjl of our city consumers. Grapes keep well for days and days. During many coming weeks they will he ahundant and cheap. Flour and meat we think we must have; but for the bilious, for persons troubled with the various difficulties of the stomach, the liver and the kidneys, grapes are a grateful fruit, and at the same time a valuable medicine. For children, for the delicate and for the robust, also, what autumnal food is equal to nice, fresh, ripe grapes? And emphatically we say that grapes are strong food; that in them we have not only the most healthful and the only naturally-adapted sugar, called by the chemist grape-sugar (infinitely superior to that chiefly exotic product, cane sugar—being more digestible, more natural and more healthful, especially for sedentary persons in temperate climates), but we have also the healthful acids and a notable amount of those nitrogenous essentials which are blood-makers, not to sp§ak of the various salts which have also become necessary constituents of the blood. We say again, now eat grapes. In the country the writer of these paragraphs has a few grape-vines; one, an entirely wild and natural vine, which bears grapes as large as small plums. But he does not raise one-fourth so many grapes as the mouths dependent upon him gladly consume; probably not one-tenth so many as they ought for their health, and for a true domestic economy, to consume. We write this to promote a double interest. Our city people could eat twenty times as many grapes as they do; our country friends could find forty times the encouragement which they now have to send grapes to market; and both classes would be a great deal better for it.— N. Y. Evening Post.

A Brave Deed.

To the already long roll of American railroad heroes must be added the name of Thomas Furlong, baggage-master on the Old Colony Railroad’s New Bedford express train. Mr. Furlong happened to be riding on one of the switching engines in the Bostbn yard,which was backing over the draw. Just as the engine was entering the bridge structure Mr. Furlong noticed two men starting to walk over the narrow timbers on which the rails are laid, anfit seeing their peril he told the engineer to shut off, and then prepared for the rescue of the men. One of them w - as struck by the engine and thrown to one side, where he lodged, comparatively uninjured. The other man had proceeded further on the timber, and if struck by the engine would have been thrown lengthwise on the rail, and consequently cut in halves. Mr. Furlong reached forward and taking the man by the chin raised him from the track, with the intention of carrying him across |o the other side; but his strength being unequal to this task he lifted the man clear of the rail and dropped him over j into the water. By this time the engine ! was slowed considerably, so that, leaping ! off, Mr. Furlong and tjie fireman secured a boat-hook and fished the man from the * water. The rescued men were employed j as divers at the Broadway bridge draw pier, and Were-filled with gratitude to | their daring rescuer. This is said to«be i by no means Mr, Furlong’s first successful attempt at life-saving. J . , I Mattie Smith, of Chesuncook, Mass.. ; stabbed herself with a penknife because her youn£ man would not wait for her lat the front gate. ff’‘■■

A Fearful Hurricane—How a Famil Was Saved.

Charleston, S. C.,was recently visited by a very heavy and destructive gale, by which damage to the amount of over $250,000 was done to shipping in the harbor and wharves and buildings on the shore. An entire family came near being swept away, with their home, in the heavy seas caused by the storm. The particulars of their narrow escape is thus described in the Charleston News and Courier: “ At nine o’clock a messenger arrived at the main guard-house with the news that the frail bridge leading to the bathinghouse had been swept away, and that the bathing-house itself, with its owner and his Jamily, who were in it, were in immi. nenx peril. The news spread like .wildfire, and in a short time hundreds of excited spectators had assembled on the battery to satisfy themselves as to the truth of the report. The gale at this time (ten o’clock) was absolutely furious; a terrible hurricane hurling huge masses of water over the high battery and rolling breakers breast-high along the south walk. The garden was fully four feet under water, presenting a clear sheet from East to South Battery. But all eyes were turned from the scene of devastation immediately around them to a point of more thrilling interest. The bathinghouse, cut off' as it was from all communications with the land, was rocking on its foundation, and it was at once seen that every effort must be made, without delay, to rescue the unfortunate inmates. ‘These were Mr. McManmon, his wife and two children, and a young man who occupied one of the rooms. -mr- —- The first attempt was made by a number of colored fishermen and policemen, headed by Mr. H.Nott Parker, the stroke oar of the Palmetto boat crew. A yawl boat was procured from the numbers usually moored around Moreland’s wharf, and with twenty-five or thirty volunteers the leaders dragged the long and anxiously looked for boat through water which was quite sufficient to float her across the garden to the spot immediately opposite the bathing-house on the south walk. The bridge in its fall had torn away a considerable portion of the masonry, and the sea soon increased the rent to a wide gap. This was deemed a favorable point from which to launch the craft, and so, with the hundreds of hands which were now ready and willing to asdaring spirits in their perilous venture, the boat was launched at an opportune moment, and five men, two policemen, two fishermen and Mr. H. N. Parker threw themselves into her, seized the oars and made strenuous efforts to head for the bathing-house. A line had been attached to the stern of the yawl tb draw her into shore in case of swamping, This piece of precaution was the cause of the first failure, for the men intrusted w ith the rope, when it was seen by every one that the boat could not be managed with the strain of the line on her stern, refused to let go until the boat had been borne too far to leeward, and nothing was left for the crew but to keep her bow to the breakers, and let her drift on with the surf and currnet. They effected a landing under the lee of the battery wall without serious difficulty. The situation now began to look desperate. The bathing-house trembled at every fresh gust of w r ind, and the mountain-likebillows were hurled as so many battering-rams with merciless rapidity against the crumbling foundation. Previous to thisthe little tug Relief had hove in sight, and her Captain made heroic efforts to rescue the inmates of the rapidly falling house. The little vessel breasted the storm gallantly, pitching and rolling in the heavy sea to an alarming extent, and every time she made an attempt to round to the gale she was mercilessly beaten back, and in a short time she faded from sight like a phantom ship in the mist and rain, driven at a frightful speed. The failure of the tide to relieve the inmates of the house, and the fruitless effort of the yawl boat crew, tended to increase to a fearful pitch the excitement of the crowd. An unusually heavy blast of wind together with an enormous wave at this time stove in the rear portion of the doomed house; the shattered timbers swayed hesitatingly for a moment, and then came down with a crash, strewing the waters far and wide with the debris. The inmates, who had remained remarkably calm and quiet up to this time, now showed unmistakable signs of alarm. Mrs. McManmon with her two little children presented a heartrending sight as they stood at the open window with arms outstretched, supplicating that relief which it seemed the crowd was powerless to render. The next effort that was made was to heave a line across by means of which the family might be dragged ashore; but this too proved unavailing, and the lead, hurled by an arm inured to the task, was blown aside like a feather by the angry wind. The house now rose and sank with every sw ell, and every one looked with straining eyes, momentarily expecting to see it swept away into, the boiling waters. The crowd hadby this time/ increased nearly: to. 1,000 persons, and it will give an idea of the terrible interest that prevailed when it is recollected that the waves were rolling knee deep over the battery walks. The rain, driven by a perfect hurricane, came dowrn in torrents, bruising th’e hands and face like hailstones, and it was with the greatest difficulty that the strongest could stand up against the gale. Yet, in spite of all this, the crowd constantly grew larger, and men avowed themselves willing and ready to ; swim the seething chasm, but this risk ! was not thought expedient •as yet. Another boat launch was "proposed, and | a boat belonging to Mr. Vanderhorst just refitted and iff thorough repair, was i soon, by the aid of a large crowd of vojj unteers, floated across the garden to the point opposite the bathing-house from 1 which the previous attempt had been I madp The meri’whd offered themselves | for the risky voyage were Mqssrs. H. Nott Parker, John Itoper, D. Todd, a eolj ored • policeman, and a fisherman—name j unknown. The boat was launched, and ! the brave men threw themselves into the 1 seething waves to watch foT ,a favorable

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moment to board. Two had succeeded in getting in, when a tremendous swell striking the boat on the broadside immediately filled her with water, ahd the next moment she was seen bottom upward and half crushed, being borne swiftly to leeward on the crest of a wave. At first not a sign could be seen of the crew, but iff amoment more a head appeared, then another, and as the next wave, foaming angrily, came rushing along, it bore the two colored men ana Mr. Todd within reach of the hundreds of hands, umbrellas and sticks which were eagerly held forth for their rescue. In another moment these three were drawn dripping and half suffocated from the water. Mr. John Roper rose next, and appeared to be laboring to keep himself up. A stream of blood from his head soon (explained that he was hurt, and probably half stunned. The next wave fortunately bore him within reach of an umbrella handle, and by the aid of this he was soon dragged on shore. Mr. Parker was now the only remaining one, and all eyes were eagerly fixed upon the water w etching for his appearance. After what seemed an age of suspense he rose, and with a vigorous stroke he, too, managed to get close enough to catch a friendly hand. The crowd, who had hartlly seemed to breathe during this period, were now relieved of one anxiety, and again turned their attention to the tottering house. James McManmon, the son of the proprietor of the bathing-house, came rushing to the scene half-frantic, and declaring that he would swim across to save his mother. He was prevented from doing this only by force. At this moment, however, another hero appeared on the scene, a young man by the name of Harry Hansen, of the United States buoy tender. Without the least hesitation or fear of failure he fastened a line to his waist and jumped over into the flood, and, breasting the waves, he gallantly battled his way across, and safely reached the door of the bathing-house. A rope was then pulled over, together with a number of life-preservers, and the brave fellow started on a return trip with one of the children in his arms. This trip was also made with success, and the little girl, barring the quantity of salt water she had swallowed, was none the worse for it. The wind now, as if by magic, lulled to almost a calm, and just at this auspicious moment two boats were launched, manned and successfully landed at the bathing-house. All the inmates were now safely brought over amid the cheers Of the, multitude. With equal suddenness the wind/; started up again, but now from a quarter directly opposite to that which it had been blowing, and for a half hour continued with fearful force. This sudden change brought down the left wing of the house, and a few minutes later the right wing sank back and settled four or five feet under water.

A Paris correspondent writes: Pouches, happily, seem to be “going out;” but, apparently, only to leave more room for the hanging on of other things. Formerly, a lady carried in her left hand her handkerchief, card-case, or purse; in her right a parasol or a fan. As it was then customary to do no more than make an inclination of the head on meeting one’s acquaintances, no inconvenience was experienced on going out with the hands thus filled and occupied. But the English habit of shaking hands has been generally adopted here of late, and now a lady hangs upon her person everything that she wishes to take about with her. Not to speak of the chatelaine, which has been coming back of late into favor, and which comprises about a score of articles, it is now the fashion to hang to the waist-belt the aumoniere (literally alms-bag) when worn, the fan, the cardcase, porte-monnaie, the small umbrella Or parasol, the little, thick, turnip watch (of various patterns) now much in vogue, the pin-cushion, ivory tablets, little mirror, etc., etc., all of which dangle about the person of a fashionable belle, making, when she moves, a slight clatter which is considered agreeable and amusing. When traveling, the personal baggage of a daughter of fashion is increased by a leather bag carried on the left arm, and an opera-glass slung ever her left shoulder, a leather strap holding a water-proof cloak or a shawl, with an anchor in her collar, a sword or an arrow holding the feather of her hat, and perhaps a pair of little bells in her ears. As the traveling-dress is often loaded with broad guipures that seem to meander in every direction over thewearer’s person, the various addenda just enumerated are apt to get entangled therein, demanding both time and patience to get them “ right” again.

Fashionable Trappings.

The Sheep Bot Fly.

Some years ago we used to keep several hundred sheep, some of which were frequently troubled with “grub in the head ” as we called it, and the only cure we ever found was the blowing of to- _ bacco smoke up the sheep’s nostrils, by holding the sheep firmly while one inserts the stem Of a tobacco pipe in the nostril, and then, by placing his mouth over or near the bowl of the pipe, blow and force the smoke far up into the head. Our sheep, I believe, always recovered after such treatment. Whether that effected it or not Ido not know; but prevention is the best of all. We had seen it stated somewhere that the place to tar is at the upper part of the nose, between the eyes, instead of the nostril-, “ that in that place the nose is protected only by a very thin and delicate membrane beneath the skin, through which the parent insect can easily thrust her ovipositor, deposit her egg ana depart instantly. This egg, hatching, produces the ‘ grub in the head.’ ” On this hint w'e acted. Having at shearing time a bucket of tar near by, we daubed each sheep, as it was shorn, across theuose, between the eyes, with a broad, thick band of tar. This seemed to prove a perfect preventive. Never after, were we troubled with the grub among the sheep.— CorCountry Gentleman.

NO. 5.