Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 July 1876 — Page 3

The Rensselaer Union. * « -n: j RSNBSJSbAJJR, - INDIANA.

('CrLDLESS. .1 Myitetab bor*i home Is not eo high' i Nor half «o nice ah mine; » 1 often nee the Hinde ajar. And thongb the curtain’* line. It'a only muslin, and the steps •!-Arete*OTWewiat*!!— ■'< r ■f- .■ •;n? T>oasJl » Iff Lt •• • '■> Her lawn ,1s never left to growThe Children tread it down. And whenthp lather comes at night, I hear them clatter down ’Me gratfel waft; And such a noleh 4,’oniea my quiet ears, As my sad heart's .been waiting for sflo many silent years/ j. Sbmetifnes I peep th seize W coat and hand and kneee— • > » All three so anxious to he first; And hear her call, "Don’t teaze Papa"-tha baby springs— And then the low brown door 1 Shute out tlieir happiness, and I Sit wildling as before Tbat ;uy neighbor’s little cottage And the jewels of her crown Had been my own; my mansion With its front of granite brown, IPs damask, and Its Honfton— It's lawn So green and bright— How gladly would I give them For her mbtnerhood to-night.

ON HELVELIYN.

Windermere ia the largest and, taking itjall ip all, the loveliest of the English lakes; and the House to which, I first intrbduce my readers is Raven Castle, the seat erf John Vernon, Esq., and one of the moetdelightf ul residences in all the country round. . . . t Mrs. Vernon, perused her son’s letter, then read it aloud. It was dated from London, and ran thus: Deab Mother: HJrry Standish is at last able to take a few dajte’ Holiday, hnd is coming down with me 10-*morrow to -psy He long-promised vieit to Raven Castle. WeahnJl arrive by the afternoon train, and come up the lake by the steamer. Yon can send James across with the boat, as usual, to pick us np as the pier. Your affectionate son, Gerald Vernon. Dora Vernon had betrayed symptoms of blushing during«the reading of the letter, and thewpiiek teyes-of heft-young friend had soon detected her. “By the bye, this Mr. Standish, is he not the young man whom Gerald introduced us to in'Londoif?” asked Mr. VerTfiofi of Ink wife. “Thesarite. He is so gentlemanly and nice. lam sure you will like him, Miss Lewis.” At this stage Dora left the table and strolled through the open window into tlie garden. Her friend soon joined her there. “Oh, you’wicked little thing!” die cried, seizing Dora round the waist. “I verily believe you are in love with this Mr.| Standish, or whatever his name is, and have never told me a word about it. But I 've found you out at last. When did it happen ? How old is he ? Is he goodlooking? Come, tell me everything directly. I insist oaJsnowing.” “ Fanny, how can-yon lie so absurd! I have only seen ‘ this Mr. Standish,’ as you call him, two or three times in my life.”. Punctual to time that afternoon tile two travelers were landed at the little jetty attached to the grounds of Raven Castle.’ They were both tall, strongly built young men. Gerald Vernon was fair, HkeJ hi*, i sister; Henry Standish,” darker anl-y, though both Were good-looking—more finely featured than his friend. They were warmly welcomed by both host arid hostess. Fanny Lewis, who had been a school-fellow of Dora’s, was a stranger to both; but the glad welcome of the latter,, and the tender glances from the soft blue -eyes, proved to Hehry Standish that he at all events had not been forgotten. He was enraptured with all he saw—the house, the grounds, and all the country round, which he had never visited before. On Thursday, the four young couple were driven over in Mr. Vernon’s wagonet to the little ipn.at Wythburn, from which .file ascent of Helvellyn was to commence. On the way they passed through Ambleside, then at the height of its busy season and full of summer tourists; Rydal and ..Grasmere, with the little white ehiuph. and silent graveyard, where the noet Wordsworth lies buried, and then up the lorig steep of Dunmail Laise, till they reached* the Nag’s ! Head at Wythbqm,their destination. Gerald and Dora had climbed the mountain so often that a fuide was unnecessary, and the twb Ipies would not -hear of ponies. So they started*off ih ’ Spirits, fully equipped with stout shoes, baskets for botanical specimens, and strong Alpine-stocks. The ascent began almost at the inn door, and •continued upwards by the side of a little 4 stream that dame dancing down the moun-tain-side. Laughing and talking, slipping and stumbling, they were soon half way up the frowning mass, and a map-like view 1 , ■of lakes and valleys, hills and brawling streams, was beginning to unfold itself at their feet. At length a point was reached where a faint sheep-track suddenly left •the pathway they were pursuing and wound'up the mountain in a contrary direction. “Suppose,” suggested Harry, “that we •divide into two parties and meet on the summit?” They separated, and soon each couple was hidden from view. They, continued their rugged journey up tl|e b|e|ik mountain side, Dora leading (lie Way, arid Harry stopping every now and then to secure some rare little fem that lay concealed among the crevices of the rioek, or to glance below on the glori•Ous prospect that now lay stretched beneath them. At length the path they had been pursuing brought them gradually round to the other side, of she mountain, apd there joined one of the main tracks to tpe supunit—the one leading from Legberthwaite arid Thirlemere, past the Glenridding’ lead mines. Having reached, a charming nook under an overhanging "reck. Which commanded a new and magniflcent view, they agreed to rest for a few minutes, and then mount upward as quick-' ly a* possible. To their right lay. Red Taro, 600 feet immediately beneatp the summit of Helyellyu, fenced in on one side by the rocky ridge bf Striding Edge, and on the other —close to where Dora and her companion were resting—by a similar barrier, called BWirrel Edge, having for its eastern termination the conical-shaped peak of Catch•edGCam. Beyond lay the lovely lake of Ullswater, with Btybarrow Crag and Gowbarrow Park fringing its western shores; while the lofty mountain of Cross Fell in the extreme distance closed in the horizon, and stood out boldly against the sky. It was a kind of rocky terrace they were on, overhanging a precipice that ran sheer down for about thirty feet till it abruptly -terminated in a small mossy bank. This, also, in its turn, overhung another preciKof considerable depth, making one and dizzy even to look down.

The young man had all through their walk been striving manfully to keep hhneeJf from making the long unspoken avowal of his love; but no* that they were alone —luere in the cool shade, with such a panorama before them and tlae knowledge of their utter seclusion from Ute outer world—lie could no longer remain silept. “ Miss Vernon,’’ he said, after a pause, during which Dora had been occupied in sorting her ferns and flowers; “do you remember that night in London when I said good-bye to youifor the last time ?"! t “ Oh, yw,” she answered quickly., , J “Well,” I little thought then that, I should ever seereou again. I felt assorted tlten that my septet was safe—that I shfiifld never be dompelled to divulge it—that I should never suffer the humiliation which I kpew could but follow ||s revelation,”. ,“■ A secret I,” she t reiterated, looking nt him wonderingly. “I do hot understand. What* secret?” ’ “Cab you ask! it?” he answered, taking her hand. “In one short week, Dora—may I call you Dora ?—I had learned to love you more than my own life; but I dared not tell my love—l dared not think of it. For I was a poor man then, as lam now, and you—-you were the daughter of a rl«h man.” Stye was trembling violently, and her ej*e«were moistening. 1 “O, Dora!” he cried, passionately, “ those tears give me new hope—new lire. You do not scorn me, then, for my presumption —you do not cast me from you I Tell mg, dear one, tell me—can it be possible that you love me ?” She dia not speak, she did not utter a word, but allowed herself to be drawn by his strong, manly form in a fond, lingering embrace, listening to the loving words that fell from his lips, with looks that told him al! he wished to know. How long tltey remained upon that little terrade can never be told; but Harry Standish, at last looked at his watch with a cry of amazement. ass—- “ Why,” he cried, “ Gerald and Miss Lewis will think us lost! They must have reached the summit long before this, and we have evidently come considerably out of our way. Had we not better ascend at once?” “ Oh, Ves,” said Dora. “ Itwill indeed take us all our time to reach them, and then be back at the inn before dusk. Let us go at once.” They made ready for an immediate scramble up the steep hillside, but before going Harry eyed a small plant growing at the edge of the path and was on his knees in a moment busily uprooting it. “ The Cerastium yilpinumU'- he cried, delightedly, “ and the first I have seen.” “Yes,”, Dola answered; “it grows, 1 believe, only on Helvellyn. But do, do be careful. You are dreadfully near tlie edge of the precipice. Do not, lean over,-you will I —-- Ah!” With a wild cry she rushed forward. Her companion, too eager to secure the plant, baa overbalanced himself, and with a cry of terror, had fallen down the abyss. Dora stood qn the brink gazing downwards, her eyes dllatpd with liorror, unable to move, to speak, th help! But his fall was suddehly checked by the shelving rock; 1 covered with mbss, which alone brokq the precipitous descent; and Dora saw him lying there with his arm twisted beneath his back, rind a wound off his forehead caused by a slrnrp pointed piece<«f rock life had struck against ashefcU. Sfeg qidtoA Qut to him in her witli all the strength she could summon to her aid ; but the only answer that greeted her was a thill faiuX echo from the distant’ Seak of Catehedecam. What could she otosave him? She knew that H left alone there for long without help lie must perish; and rashing frantically from one end of the little teraace to the other she strove vainly for a means of reaching him. Her nerves were strung, however, to the highest pitch. She seemed possessed of a strength she had never felt before. ~She would reach and save him or die herself in the attempt! With her Alpine-stock for a support she half-scrambled, half\slid down the rocks', some little distance from where her lover Had fallen, and where the descent was not quite so precipitous; tearing her dress and bruising her face and lim,bs, but with tlie strength, energy apd courage that her desperation had endowed her with, she reached the ’ihoßSy bank in safety, and rushed panting to the wounded man. “My dariing—my darling!’,’ she wailqd, as, tearing her kerchief into strips, she quickly bandaged the poor wounded head aria stopped the flow of blood. Then, while he was still unconscious, she gently raised him and moved the arm from its painful position to his side. She then knew that it was broken, and moaned aloud in her agony and despair; for how was he to be got away—away from the horrible mountain, to the civilized world below, where he might have help and succor? A dreadful thought, which she could not suppress, suddenly flashed through her brain. Suppose they could not get away at all —suppose help should never come! She leaped from her kneeling posture by the wounded man, and hastily traversed the little bank On which they were stationed. Itwas but a feW yards tong and a few feet in width. It would be next to impossible to get back again by the way she had come or by any means above, while below, all around them, frowned the deep precipice, with the Red Tarn at the bottom, and the mass of broken rocks that formed the base of Swirrel Edge. ; Even if she could have regained the pathway to go for help, could she leave him while he remained in his then unconscious state? But she would not despair; she woiild not give way to useless grief and idle tears. She believed that God would help hep in this her sore distress* and kneeling down at the foot of a rock, she pouted forth a prayer full of earnestness arid yearning faith. If she had haa but a little brandy, or even a draught of cold water to wet those C parched lips witk and to bring him to consciousness; but she had nothing, hothing! Suddenly a thought seemed to strike her, and bending quickly over her lover’s outstretched tody she gently loosened his com. and felt m his breast pocket. A memoranduin-book, and what was this her fingers seized so eagerly, While a cty of joy burst from her lips? It was a small flask fashioned so as to fit comfortably in the pocket .without fear of breakage. Unscrewing the lid, she tested the {contents. It was full of brandy; and hastily emptying some into the cup that was attached, she held it to his lips, and poured the reviving fluid down his dry parched throat. Long and patiently did she await the result. At last he moved slightly, while a faint moail escaped his lips; then opening his eyes, he looked steadfastly up at Dora’s pale wan face. “ Where am I?—what is the matter?” at length he moaned feebly, looking wild-, ly round. , With a great sigh of relief and thankfulness Dora tenderly held him to lifer breast apd told him all.

Tlie sun was already sinking <wyr the western hills, and the strange silence all around oppressed but did not frighten her. She had nerved herself to endure the worst that might befall her, and was now prepared for anything—even death Itself. At length the crescent moon, rose behind a distant ridge, and the stars one by one lit up tha dark blue canopy above. "On Helvellyn!” he repeated, hardly creditinghis senses. Then, with a sharp cry of grief, “And it is my fault—all my fault. You ,my poor Dora, here, at night; on this cold, damp mountain. Qh, Lean never forgive myself; • R V M®* rible!” ■' ; .’ i , “O Harry, do not think of mb. Think only whnt would have happened If Beorild not have reached you, J,et up ralto> thank God that I came m time. _ , , “ My preserver!” he tried fondly • “my, truest, dearest love!” ‘ He was very weak, and’ his arm pained • him considerably; but ha bore it Very patiently : and submitted with a grateful lieart while the girl Improvised a splint made from a portion of her Alpine-Stock, hastily broken off for the occasion. Exhausted with speaking, he fell into a quiet sleep, with Dora’s hand clasped lovingly in his, and her face watching tenderly be- . side him. She hud known,neither hunger nor fatigue, though She httd tasted barely anything since morning. l Through the tedious hours of the night she kept per sacred vigil, until at length morning dawned upon the great world below, and the sun rose magnificent over the mountains. Dora was on the alert. She knew that her father and Mother Would not leave a stone unturned ,to discover what had befallen them, and she felt.surq that they would first thoroughly explore the path they had taken the day before. She resolved, therefore, to be constantly on the watch, for she could see easily, from the edge, of the bank, any one who, happened to be crossing the terrace above. Harry was still lying weak and stiff! But assistance was happily at hand and voices cbuld be distinctly heard, proceedingfrom overhead; and suddenly figures were descried moving on toward the edge of the precipice! Yes!—-Dora could now distinguish them. Gerald, her father, and some men carrying tools and ropes. * ‘ Gerald! fatlier! help! We are here!” she cried, with all her strength, dreading lest they should neither see nor hear her. “ Mr. Standish is here, dreadfully hurt. He cannot move.” Adjuring her to take courage, they immediately proceeded to devise plans for relief. A rude car was fashioned by the men out of some boards and let down the side of the rock by mearis of ropes. Dora did not need to be instrticted what she had to do; but with the bravery and strength that had sustained her throughout the whole of that dreadful ordeal, assisted Harry on the rude craft —where he could lie at length—and bound him safely to it with pieces of strong, cord that were thrown down to her. Up, up it went. How anxiously she watched the ascent. It was lowered again empty. She gave a sigh; of relief; and hastily binding herself ,to the car, was soon hoisted into mid-air, and a loud, and prolonged shout of joy burst frorii every lip as site safely , Reached the top of the precipice.. • “ to her outstretched arms, and weeping glad tears bf joy and thankfulness upon his breast. She then quickly told him all that had occurred, it Was hpcessfiry Lhfvt the’ wofinded maushould be-got aww a« soon, as possible. Indeed, this. Was difflciitt task, sos he Was too weak towalk; but the rescuers were brav# and. ( fesoliite, and converting the car into «.-species of stretcher, they carried,him as carefully possible down the steep and rugged descent. “We have passed a dreadful night,” said Gerald to ids sister, as they descended; “ almost as bad as yours. Yesterday, after leaving you, Miss Lewis and I maae our way steadily to the summit, and reached it early in tlje afternoon. We must have waited thferfe* two or three hours, but you never came ;'and at last we concluded you had tired yourselves, and had gone back to, the inn. Yle went down again by tlie way we had cofile, only to find on reaching Wythburn that you had not been seen or heard of. It Was then nearly dusk, and when it became quite dark,, we were obliged to return alone, for it was impossible at that time to seek you in the mountain. This morning my father and I started with U garig of helpers before dfiybreak, ami commenced our search jnthe early dawn.” Gerald having then to go forward to help the men with the stretcher, Dora was alone With her father, and in a few short minutes had told him all that had passed on the little terrace before tlie accident—of the young man’s true and sincere affection, and of her own new-born love. Weeks afterward, a young man, with his arm in a sling, was lying on a sofa that had been brought out for him into a warm sunlit garden, filled with the perfume of sweet-smelling flowers and the gentle air that came up from the lake below. A fair-haired girt was seated near him, holding in hers his outstretched hand. Dora,” he was saying, tenderly, as he looked up into her sweet, young face; “ I often think that were it not for tlie pain and misery you had then to suffer, I ought to look back upon my accident as the brightest event of my existence. For did you not save my life, darling, at tlie fearful peril of yriur own; did you not seal our betrothal with a noble self-sacrifice; did you not prove—more than aught else could have done—that your lore, like mine, was dearer than life itself ?”—Chambers' Journal.

Deranged by the Bite of a Hog.

Nine weeks ago Peter Harris, living on the Belair road, Just back of the Baltimore cemetery, and in the employ of Mr. Chester, blacksmith, was bitten by a wild hog, which had been roaming about that portion of the city, resisting all endeavors to trap him. Mr. Harris suffered severely from the bite, and soon begad to exibit all the symptomsof hydrophobia. He foamed at the mouth like amad dog, became hysterical, smashed chairs and lookingglasses, and wanted to hit his friends. Measures were being taken to remove the ■unfortunate man to quarters where the lives of other people would not be endangered, when suddenly, about ten days ago, he mysteriously disappeared, and has not been heard from since. The conjecture is, that Mr. Harris has died, or he would have been heard from somewhere ere this, as he was at the time of his departure a raving maniac. He was attended by Dr. White, of Chase street, who states that hogs, as well as dogs and wolves, are subject to hydrophobia, taking the disease themselves •without having been bitten. Mr. Harris was a marriea man, twenty years of age, and worked on a farm.— Baltimore News. __ Ex press men—retired printers. An oat-worthy animal T-the horse. A difficult lock to pick—one from a bald head.

CENTRALITIES.

—The terra S 0 ’ n Denmark’s exhibit call fort. ’» praise. —The art coll in the Woinan’s Pavilion eonlnaua. ' to attrrtet K reat "t<cntion - .>• . ‘ -The Argentine R< H 1; teresting display of nu ncra,s aid HHW articles manufactured. . —The Mercantite Libra phiahas thrown ojarn its ?™. 1, i „ charge for visitors tofthe Cea fennial. * ' -Tlie Liverpool cUoVrr indications that the-' ! G< i ntewrrial rihig to atttaet ptusAhgetfs * teraa i j ’ Visitors are rtiidiMled'wd Jandri icy ,wlio» eCSt’S • —flortifcriltip-al and : Agricaltalrtl lUh ide now connected by an elevated -ndMrayi, which contributes largely to the eousfort of visitors.

—A knowledge of the Oriental language is rapidly becoming a test of respccCTblliity attheCenterinial. It is said tlireewords. of Japanese are sufficient, i • . , , —Much confusion arises in comseqpenee of having the various buildings npmfeej-ed instead of having tlie namesbt the variotw States and cotmfries upon them. ", . - —The catalogues issued at the' idnu mencement of the Exhibition’ are'flow found to be very imperfect in many respects, owingto the additionsmade iuseveral departments. , y, s —Tlie Castellani collection of Greek Roman antiques ifi the Memorial Hall.oCr cupy several rooms. It is remarkably rich in Greek bronzes, engraved gents; rings, busts, statues, etc. The collection is valued at (200,000. —The valuable collection of the renilins of extinct animals belonging to Ptotf. Henry A. Ward, of Rochester, is said to be injured through the curiosity of' some foolish persons who, to.satisfy cut the tusks of the elephants ,and sl6 legs of the megatherium. —The display of the fishes of North .America, made by the Fish Commission, in conjunction with the ! Smithsonian Institution, affords an excellent opportuhily to study the interesting subject. It embraces photographs and plaster casts of nearly all the fishes of North Aildricii, —The following is a verbatim copy of an expressive tletter a young lady at; the’ Centennial wrote, to her: mother iu ‘thisi city; Philadelphia, June,,lßfr6. Dear Mother: Oh! Oh!! Oh!!! Oh!!!! O-o-o-o-o-o-o-h!!!!!! Your affectionate daughter, f Mary. ~ Providence I.) .tournat. —An interesting paper on the design and the erection of tlie Centennial Exposition buildings was read a few days ago before the Society of American Civil Engineers, in session ip Philadelphia. Among other interesting data mentioned w ; aft that; the mass of iron in the buildings amounts to 3,348,000 pounds, and ■that tire kinds bf straight and T iron, etc., wpuld reach a distance of 141 miles, whflfe,46 all the iron were made into a solid, Cube it would measure 25, feet 10inches, per ' \ ‘ —Tlie colossal statue of which will soon arrive at Philadelphia by the United States ship placed in. front of. trip Judges’ PayilUqn at the Centerpiial. Tlie' pedestal’ *iras' been ! completed, but will not be plaewflri posh tion until after the arrival of the stated The fignrie is feet higUfffjpudided sonal contribution of Philadelphian, now a resident of Fibfence, Italy.,UovJl < ; fr-Apmpg tM displays made iq, the Agricultural department by foreignTwß’* l9 there are iriany Which wbunl briar *a i lengthy description, but for tire iireseigl must pass them over with a brief mention. The finest of these exhibits, as they appear to me, is the one made Uy BraziJ, the country over' which Dom Pedro has tilled for nearly half a century, and perorhe may toe, let us hope, f Orman years to .come. TH space ocpupjpd by'this exhibit is well,filled with Brazilian productions, comprising extensive varieties tt woods, minerals, skins, leather, iribbcr In its crude state, seeds, grains, .soils, spices, cloths, fruits and other artwleatwhich need not here be enumerated. The dia-,, play is under the charge of seven Com,missioners, who freely distribute cfrqulars and pamphlets giving full dfefeciipMons Of their country, its productions, its great, natural advantages, and its, mexlimistiblq resources.— Cor. Chicaqo Journal. ■

PERSONAL AND LITERARY.

—The new Cardiff Giant: Olive lagan’s husband. —Mark Twain’s eyes are growing diirf, and he wears eye-glasses astraddle his ruby nose. —Stokes’ term of imprisonment will be out next October. And yet he still clamors for pardon. —Mrs. A. T. Stewart’s gifts to public charities have amounted to SIQQ,OPO since her husband’s death. , 1 n, —Lady Thornton, wife of the English Minister, is rusticating among tllfe Berkshire hills at Pittsfield, Mass. I di —Brigham Young is trying to Win Afiii Eliza back to his fold. She has cleased by her lectures $50,000 in gold. —Successfully funny as is Mr. Lewis — the Detroit Free Preu man—he is a human who never laughs and rarely smiles. Mr. Horace White has an article oh “ The Financial Crisis in America”;in the June number of the Fortnightly Periew. —They have been /making a great fuss in Philadelphia over Key. Mr. Oolfelt, because he modestly chooses to other people’s sermons rather than his own. —Vanderbilt University, at Mas iville, Tenn., has received another gift of $860,000 from Commodore Vanderbilt. The total amount given by him to that insfitution is $1,000,000. —Messrs, Jesse and Joseph, itaye’s, of Marion, 8. C. have lived with, their present wives, the former fifty-six and sie latter fifty-two years. The couples ure still strong, ami, propose to live a good many years yet. , i - —Dom Pedro won the hearts of 9,000 factory-girls of Lowell, Mass.,' at his recent visit to the Spindle City. He said he saw more to admin*in that city than any other place he had visited. Ana now every girl’thinks she was the object o/, his admiration. ’ —The father of Charlie Ross has ijn prM the story of the kidnaped child,' written by himself, with portraits of Charlie and his brother Walter, and pictures <sf other lost children, and sac-simile letters from the abductors, with other information' calculated to lead to the discovery of toe lost child. - ■ ‘-! ■ ’ —Ex-May or Eastman, of Poughkeepsie, N. Y.„ has given 500 of the street boys of that city a straw hat each with this advice pasted inside the crown: “Don’t Brink,

d»nYW?m*wrm»wnMnY industrioug. worMvfllWidy hard, plajr hard, and you never will be * hatßsrid With the best wishes for your future welfare,r The bo}» took the hate, but it is doubtflul about tbeiil taking the advice. -rfik' D. Bin®, whose Memory is green in the hearts of hundreds of thousand of ailri, died in Cincranaujteceauy. Hewas a printer by trade, and went from Virginia ir 1840 to vine Inn art,'arid engaged irt the 1 I Apiihflfl, he, loaf his (‘VM-siidit in tUo (JaMlfa pfllce in a «sdmewith soot, and Mr. SintP’fittt smfte jWiwder •faklto <friwtt<oHheirt»w» ! WcteHri > lt fotft: ‘Wrt ptfwder himfr fire, l»Ht ’‘be'Pffeiied the •dtefl'tossoertain tfertscaiise oftllhe delay •Wlrert HCxplbded, and ffife ■ flash • blindec feiai 1 for lifts,'. :h» Amrast of thetaatae year

Jlhe was <uUribd tolhss Mary O. Maftin, ■ by wlxmr be had twodadghtera, who, with & «fr metiier v survive him. After joeing jjj, eyesight he wad compelled to abandon thc ;“<ase,” and he engaged in various specm at ‘ ons > until he finally engaged in the fora business, and the publication of a paper x’»own m the Cincinnati JJ&eary ,Thia, brought him wealth, and evewtaMlly <. ’ oatJ L for jkP got into tniible with. Ite m 9tft l authorities, and tt So preyMtwrtMni jt affepted fils mind, and ffife aflecth >n fln* 11 ? terminated his .existeuK*. • ■<->'>. ■ *

What the Baby Thinks.

‘'Sqmebodl wants te* kno "* whht the, baby’is thiriking ;. • ! L’lfcadiWipiitoOj know. f * It is , a subjerit on whjfr'? considerable conjecture may be indulged, the fruth of sie matter inighd be sfimewhat difficult. .And we should ri°t> probably, recognize the frutji when we . ourfd A baby of the gciMiinc, orthodox style—.lmirlesS, coloflessyshapele# as to fr>«y,' iWlSffiltfa fc Winking far pack Wi a mass pf'putty-colored layere of fat—ls not tSjOur mind a very attractive kpfebtacle tri cdriteihplate, though wq are irell aWaro that every wrirahipingmdther fef a baby will Jlate -qs most devoutly in Consequence of our opinion. A big apple dumpling, with two huckle!bcrrira juiiicWusly srit therein, might sit, for almost fthy'small • baby’s photograph of feUficess. ttolil , sole.ideA if, .ope may be allowed to judge from, actions, is how best to get Doth his fists into his ntouth at bhee; rind after tfiat combs tlie problem of

how he can; best turn his heels over his heyl without getting off his back, to accdmpljsh the. feat. And wfien he find he eftnnot do. ’ either of these “tilings to his satisfaction’he gets mad hnd cries, and his loving,mother is terrified . for .fear qholera infahtum is coming on, and she soo,h ' ,,g " r ""' “ d . .No dottbt a riabyi fiis'' some notions of his rtwn, if he’ wets’only given tha faculty i of speech, to express tliem. i Arid StaMMH nWlike’to rjd tbeuni-i •verse ®f>tiiatwite laiominatian, whfci| has twes to ifeilv rtftWWOaiWxwnToKf ui i ffiiing antWdrned ppsittadpwn t ,3nd7,flqwnside up. Yfl -ttfe handlfite bafond dld< Aimts- and uncles who eat bhions itoJriHrtha taint dri’Wsky and tobacco, or in him, ana he yfells with agbpy, aria his mother takes hmi eh her kneb, and ’ trots him, arid tells the nurrie she is afraid the ! ‘.little precious” ig going to have that (‘ dreadful, nasty colic” again? Afid then Comes’ the castoFojl bottle. 4 j “■ Is W happiness for the baby' to be skatlffed in flannel; and .smothered in pilJowftfinefl <UF¥toe-hiefttis room where the is. higher ttom it has any tegitima'te right to be on tne Fburth df July ? ’ Docsjfe Nke to ttavfehis feet produced frdm tireir wrappings rind shbwn, to ml-’ njiring a# the. A* wittiest ’ittife footlike to lrt#e‘ «*geH<hrfert 4ft mofith to ♦4ake>friHi-Hb«w*is nriftiteethflnuU I bwk Don’t you suppose he wishes.the iu§n hevtT heen-riny such a thing as “ Ridge’s Food,”Orßidge either? Wire does liri like to pull hair? • Why does he- contqpiplate his toes by the hour, and tyreak into spasms of shrieking* if -anybody crosses the fascinating objects? ’How does he like his mother to churn fiim up and down on her knee after he is fed. and then put him in the cradle and rock him till his wretched little; head ■bounces frorii side to side, and the world tarns round before his dizzy vision, and, weary with trying to keep pace with it, he falls asleep at last? We were all babies ourselves ohee, but - nonA wihpf Tnv it it uopma kno vv luuk ivr ivj TaHrta is: Sv<3llli3 ’qijite likely that time will goon, and we shall none of us know what the baby thinks.— Kate Thorn, in N. F. 'Weakly.

A Snake on Shipboard.

Mr. A- Nash writes' to the London Tirrtee: Will you kindly allow me to give your reader a short description of an interesting, event which occurred ’at the London dpc&hf* Thursday, being the capture of;atarge boa-constrictor, on board the ship'Surprise, which has just arrived front reftt Natal : laden with wool and hides, ft appears-that. while at the Port, she went within the bar to load, being a jSipqll vessel, and,consequently was close to the btish. One evening, after her cargo had been shipped, while the crew were having a little jollification amohg themsetvfito one of the sailors, who happened to possess a concertina,, was playing various tunes forthe amusement of hk companions.' It is supposed mat’ the- musib attracted the' ° boa” on board, and, being disturbed, it must have found its why into the hold, aA the hatches were qffatthe .time, and concealed itself amohg s the cargo, as it was nbt discovered uptil the Ship was well on hit voyage homeJ Whet she arrived in dock die question arose as to how it was to be captured, but, with the assistance of Mr. Jamrach it was Successfully accomplished. I have seen the reptile, and I should think di i 4 about eight or nine feet In length and As thick as the calf of a man’s leg. It has existed during 'the voyage on rata and other vermin, with which, I am informed, the vessel swarmed while at Port Natal; and now fliere is not a rat to be seen in any part of the vessel, so that in future it may be thought desirable to ship a ** boa-cop-stricter” instead of other animals to catch the vermin. L__ 2

New Investigations on the Earth's Heat.

The theory ordinarily accepted asacMr awl PWefet conpothesi arid UflrtriL that ffie\riobl, h Jt one time gaseous, subsequently ixu-ame molten, and is in that state now, with the exception, of & comparatively thin crust, estimated to lie abouf sixty miles in thickness. Opr knowledge of the- interior conditiomof 4e earth, mainly spfecuhrtive; and the strongest support to tire above thefiry-iri met wfth-fti A Ae inw>lc; so that, supposing it tto eoatinue a d *^ce,ofttut 100 miles, or T-85*bhrt of tire eartii’s' radius, a tempera--lo’o(M>q0 ’ o(M>q Fab - exKte mS"*’ alLsoUdSbrtances with which we are acquainted, and vaporize many solid dement# Qn the other hand, it may be whether the effect of the immense pressure on the earth’s interior, due to the action of the imprisoned vapors and to the superincumbent weight, must not suffice to remove the lifiJksof the solidcriwl fax .below the above estimate; so that liquefaction may begin only at a distance of several hundred mjte from ihosijrfece, and there may be still sufficient viscosity In a large part of the remaining interior portion to pre-

vent free movemept qf the liquid nucleus. We have said that our knowledge is but Speculative, aiffi confirmation m found inrifce excavations have been made, the increase of temSre nbted hfe ttiet’Wftlf. 1 From this, er w it follow that if, Um Interior of >be is in a state of fusion the relative order to, produce like augmentations at heat must be cqmpwatiyely less as,the center rif die earth is Approached. The heat coming from flto interior, transmits itself by conduction white traversing spheres moife arid more Vitet; and supposing the conductibility of,the mass to be uniform, the temperature of tlie exterior layers of the globe sltouhl diminish iri ptopbrtion as their volume augments. ; Recent investigations by Prof. Mohr, of Bdhne, at the deepest well in the world, have adduced results altogether at variance tinted in other toentities. WUI tend to throw grave doubts bn the-igneous theory of the rearth. The will in question is located at Sperembergjße«»BWiiß;tPrussla, and has been sunk to.a depth d .rikOOO feet. The thermometric record is as follows:

ThurmorMten Increase per 900 " tyz.-Slft o LOST I,l<W “ s- w as l,n» “ tr.J&figgp . . o.sggo ■l«“. SS • s oflflO.-ftwOoqual difißxaiwe oi'O.Qsodedegrees .Reaumur, equal to Wfi WfrMmih. *AfiWiiphH -ratio to between 4ibieMW^ ?rms a Distil per' !-Increase 100 feet loom 200 “ 300 “ L3O “ I.™ ”1,900 0.846 “ SOO “ fltoo “ "9.596 “ 400 “ 500 “ 1.20 “ 2100 “ 2,300 0.745 “ a»“" 600 “ l.nSf‘V rtO»“ B.MO 0.695 “ 600 “ 700 “ MU, “ 2,500 “ 2,700 0.645 “ 700 “ 900 « ?WMD V<9O.Sfks9s “ .arHSiJS: 1,300 “ lam 4*80.0461 J* “ «MD.i A 445 “ Gorttiauiagthis, the afttbot finally determines, .that, >*t a depth of 5,170 feet, therd shM be no further increase of temperature.and that the. heat indicated at that distance will be true to the centre of the earth. Obviously also this, temperature will not wy greatly exceed that marked fey the th cop mueter at 3,890 feet, or 35.756 degrees Beaymer.equaling 114.701 degrees that, according to these obseryqgons, the highest internal heat of the globe , folia below that of boiling water.— Scientific Apierican. Wr reJH-T-*-- ■— -

Cameron's Great African Walk.

ThisJgallfcf' ydung'bftfcer traveled on footal®Btaneflof;»iOffi) miles, with very •Ihtlia mcMMitorifeO of climate, through forestA marshes and □ujM'les. enduririg hardnfever grifte .-way. Lieut. Cameron kept his eyes well about him, and the observations vriiich lie made, noth astronomical and in relation to the physical character of the country, are of extraordinary value. The registered observations he has brought home, and which are now being computed, at the Greenwich Observatory, promise to be of the most important character. They are astonishingly numerous, elaborate and accurate; and I haye expectation that the result of flieir computation will be that we shall find hiid down a defined line from one ocean to the other across twenty degrees of longitude, Which will serve as*a basis, a flxea mathematical basis, for all future geographical discoveries in equatorial Amea. The observations with which he has furnished us and which are now being compute^—for latitude, longitude and elevation—-number nearly 5,000. Naval officers and surveyors will understand the extraordinary minuteness and assiduity with which he did his work when I state that, in order to’ determine the longitude Of some particular positions, he took 38 many as 130 or 140 lunar observations in one spot.—gir Henry Rawlinson. « - -- - - ■ - w- a

The Chinese Portrait of Washington.

I have frequently been told that thebest likeness of Washington was cut from a china pitcher, framed and placed at Mount Vernon, or Arlington House. J have been much amused at several discussions upon the singular.circumstance that a Chinese artist should ;be inspired to make the finest portrait of ow great patjipi without ever having seen him! I think, myself, it woulube curioqs, with the Chinese zigtag view of nature and great desire to avoid making anything that looks like a human being. The facts are those:" Edward A. Newton,’ a nephew of Mr. Stuart, who Was in. England on business, commissioned my father to paint him a Washington for the especial purpose of having it COWud on china pitchers, at Liverpool, and had some dozen struck off to send to his ffiehdsdn AmeHca.’ ’ f T am sorry to do away.with this idea of “ Chinese inspiration,” as there is always a fascination In mystery.—JVnu; Slaarti Bi Scribner for Noimnrb ban be more injurious to your peace of mind than to have too many confidants. You live in abject slavery every day;’as yon are constantly fearing X SEtf a w3aT».‘b™ 1 : anybody know for all the world.