Rensselaer Union, Volume 9, Number 9, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 November 1876 — Page 6

How Wilheim Escaped.

Wretera Pennsylvania and Eastern Ohio yrare fohnetiy rich in materials of wild adventure. The vast feretts of the rerton swarmed with almost every variety <H four-footed game, and its numerous streams and lakes abounded with fish and fewl, while the pioneer aettleis were as hardy and daring a class of men as ever nulled a boat or set foot on a mountain. Tribes of Indians, too, roamed and hunted there, the bravest and fiercest of tire red race. One of the pioneers of this region was a Session named Neuenheyser, a deserter ftom that body of troops hired from Germanyby the British, and sent to fight •gainst the Americans in the Revolutionary war. His descendants still live in the •ante part of the country. Hb son, Wilhelm, was the hero of this story. Wilhelm was a lumberman, and being much of the time in the woods, his encounters with wild beasts were notin frequent That he should ever allow himself to go into the forest unarmed, only provesthat experience itself forgets its caution. One day, near the first of June, he had been peeling the bark from a “ skid" of saw logs. A “ skid” means here a row of logs, lai d aide by side on cross timbers, so as not to touch the ground, but admit the air and become thoroughly seasoned. This arrangement, too, makes them convenient to load upon sleds in winter. Logs cut in May or June are easily pealed, for then the sap loosens the bark, and when it is removed they are left exceedingly slippery until they dry. The place of Wilhelm’s work was near tiie center of a valley about a mile wide, with a bluff on the west side, and on the east gentle hills rising from the bank of a small stream. At the foot of the hills stood a mill, and a clearing of several acres had been made around It, in which were the log houses of several settlers. West of the stream, covering valley and bluff and hills for many miles, was a dense forest. A narrow roadway had l»een opened from the mill to the skid of logs, but no further. Am hour before sunset, an Wilhelm was about starting for home, he heard, as he thought, a woman or child call from the bluff He answered, thinking some member of one of the settler's families had been out gathering early flowers and wintergreons, and had lost the way. Rb voice did not seem to reach the ear ofti* unseen caller, for tn a moment an-1 other more anxious cry came from the bluff. Again he answered, and again the cry, until he became so intent on making himself heard, and finding out the apparent distress, that he began, half unconsciously, to walk in the direction of the sounds. Wiihelm had a nry compassionate heart, and as he drew nearer, and the sad cry came to him more distinctly, even his long*texperience of forest noises did not suggest that it could be other than a human call. Perhaps it was his very experience that made him venture. He thought he knew. As he pushed on through the dense thicket, he became satisfied, from the singularly pitiful tone, that the owner of the voice was a woman. He even thought that he could make out the words, “ Oh, I am lost! What shall I dot’ Then the cries grew fainter, and ran into a low, continuous moan. Stirred to deepest sympathy, Wilhelnr hurried on, keeping a keen lookout up the hillside. He was excited, and had no doubt now but that he should soon see a despairing woman sitting helpless on the ground. He had nearly reached the foot of the bluff, when suddenly the moaning voice changed to an appalling shriek, and he met a pair of fiery eyes glaring out of the bushes on the ledge above him. He had been drawn into the very jaws of a panther. Why he should have permitted himself to be so deluded he never could decide, for he knew well enough that the wailing of a panther is often very much like the voice of a distressed woman. In fact, so perfect is the likeness that the most practiced ears have been deceived by it, and woodmen have sometimes neglected a real human cry for fear of encountering a panther. Wilhelm could only condemn himself for not taking his gun with him. In such cases that precaution is always wise.

Never before had our lumberman been caught so totally unprepared in peril. Even his jack-knife was in some pocket at home or on the saw-logs. Aware of bis weakness, he obeyed the first instinct of fear, and turned ta run. He knew well enough that this course would embolden the deadly beast to chase him. but what else could he do? Before he had gone twenty rods the great cat was at his heels, and he almost felt her savage claws in his flesh. Whirling desperately around, he now faced her, and grasping his high coon-skin cap by the crown, commenced striking at her and shrieking atthe top of his voice. The brute hesitated, crouched close to the ground, turned her head sidewise and, lashing angrily with her tail, stepped round him at a distance of a few feet, evidently watching her chance to seize him. Her fierce yellow eyes shone like fire, and her long red tongue kept lapping her jaws, as if she was fancying how he would taste. No doubt she coveted such a supper as he would make, for Wilhelm was a plump Dutchman. The continual movement of the panther and her intended victim presently brought them on opposite sides of a small thicket ■of briars, and seeing his opportunity, the lumberman again started to run. On ■came the blood4hirsty beast, pursuing fierce and close, somet'mes in advance of him, then at his side, then in his rear, apparently disturbed by the swinging cap, and looking for a better chance to get hold of him. Repeatedly Wilhelm thought she was going to spring upon him, and stopped to gesticulate and yell at her. The last of tneee poor attempts to' fight for his life gave him a little advantage, or probably he never would have reached a place of safety. As he was roaring and hurling his arms about, he flung his coon skin cap, and by a curious hit lodged it, like a muzzle, exactly over the panther's nose. This so amazed the creature that Wilhelm got several rods the start. As soon as she cohid shake off the cap, the panther came tearing after him again, uttering screams of rage. But Wilhelm was now tn sight of the logs, and rushed for his ax. At the end of the sk d, the brute crouched and leaped for him. It seemed she intended to reach him by two springs, landing first upon the saw-logs, but here her instinct failed her. She made no calculrtion tor the slippery condition of the peeled logs, and as she alighted up<>n them with tremendous force, her feet flew from under her and let her down sprawiBmised and evidently discouraged, she spring ofi, but one of her legs bad passed through a crevice between the logs, and in her mad struggles she broke ft. At that instant, two men who had heaad the terrible outcries in the woods came

running from the mill, with axes and handspikes, and falling furiously upon the panther soon dispatched her. She proved to be one of the largest of her speciee. Before midnight her sain ips nailed to the rafters over Wilhelm's bed. And in after years he made many a sleigh-ride more oomfortible by spreading about his limbs the yellow hide of the beast that had intended to eat him.— Youth't Companion.

A Bogus Medium.

A trustworthy correspondent sends us the following from Webster, Mass. Mrs. Huntoon, the person caught personating a spirit, is a sister of William Eddy, the famous “ materialising” meedium, formerly of Chittenden, Vt., but now of Angora, N. J., where he is practicing his Sroreesion with eminent success. Having issolved partnership with his interesting brother Horatio, the latter, in conjunction with Mrs. Huntoon, has been carrying on business at the “old stand,” maxing occasional sorties into the country round about, and turning up at last in Webster, Mass., where Mrs. Huntoon has come to grief in the manner described by our correspondent below. It may be remembered that a representative of the Herald, something over a year ago, investigated the pretensions of Mrs. Huntoon, and came to the conclusion that she was a very insignificant trijkster. Since then, however, people of supposed intelligence, who have visited her at Chittenden, came to an opposite conclusion. Even a wellknown gentleman of Boston, a member of the Suffolk bar, states without reservation that he saw in her presence and clearly recognized the phantom forms of two of his children in the other life. The statement of our correspondent is as follows: The exposure of mediums is becoming so frequent of late that the question—- “ Who will be the next?” is scarcely asked before it is followed by the report that another has fallen. This time it is Mrs. Huntoon, of “ Eddy family" fame. For some days past Mrs. Huntoon has been delighting the faithful in Worcester and vicinity by those manifestations so often described as beyond the possibility of human production. Could it be feared that the spirits would fail her here in the anally aristocratic town of Webster? as for human expectations, when dependent upon thq invisibles I She was invited to this town, and gave her first seance here on Tuesday evening People saw, or believed thev saw, the spirit hands and faces of their departed friends, and were assured of the presence of their loved ones. There were, however, some who believed they took the medium's hand instead of that of a departed relative, as was claimed. Without giving expression to this belief, however, the medium and the assistants were invited to the house of Mr. and Mrs. John Flint, persons well known in this town and vicinity through their Intimate business relations with all classes of people during the past fifteen years. She consented to go there last evening, and “the circle” was arranged accordingly. Among the prominent persons present were Courtland Wood, lawyer; Clinton W. Davis, John Heatherington, Dr. E. G. Burnett, Mr. and Mrs. - Hines, Mr. and Mrs. Butler Bates, Isaac Regan, Mrs. John Haven, Mrs. Susan Wood, Delia A. Wood, George O. Davis, Sanford Fisk, and others. At about 7:30 o’clock the circle was arranged, the lights were turned low, and the invisible soon manifested their presence, at first faintly and with interruption, “but as “conditions" improved by some rearrangement of the parties present, there was a marked change In the degree of their power and daring. At length the curtain was thrown out at one side, and some of us could see a low, bending figure, with apparently a nightcapped head, seeking recognition. It was, however, shy of the light, which it was found necessary to diminish considerably. Hands were now presented at the orifice in the curtain, faces appeared behind it, and at length an old lady, professing to be the mother of Mrs. Flint, desired recognition. Mrs. Flint approached the curtain, when the delicate, fluttering hand of the spirit could be seen in eager effort tograsp her daughter's hand, which, of course, continued by its earthly magnetism to repel the etherial form, causing it to dance before her, but to elude the grasp it professed to seek. With the

question, “Is this my dear mother?” to which was replied in a hoarse and broken whisper, “Yes, I am your mother!” Mrs. F. succeeded in arresting the attention of the supposed spirit, and at the instant seized and held the proffered hand. Instantly, Lawyer Wood turned on the gas, which had been left burning for that purpose, revealing to the audience Mrs. Huntoon secure in the hands of her captors, but endeavoring to sink upon the floor. Both Mr. Davis and Mr. Flint rushed to the rescue. Mr. Flint raised her, and succeeded in setting her on her feet, but while he was still endeavoring to support her. and in the face of the entire audience, in the full light of the gas, she threw herself from his support, with the exclamation: ‘‘There, you’ve broken both of my arms!” and fell nearly prostrate upon the floor. No sooner was she again raised than she’ declared that Mrs. Flint had nevertouched her hand until she broke into the cabinet and dragged her from her seat. Did she know, or did she not know, that every movement had been distinctly visible to that audience from the moment the light was turned on, while the same form in the hands of Mrs. Flint had been visible from the instant she was seized ? Such, however, was the fact. With the same reckless aisrega'd for the truth and of the actual knowledge of the twenty to twenty-five witnesses of the occurrence, she declared that Mrs. Flint had thrown her on the floor, when she fell or threw herself from Mr. Flint’s arms. A more stupid attempt at fraud cannot well be imagined.— Boston Herald.

"General Fremont.”

. y > A farmer’s wagon, in which were seated several persons, was halted near Harper’s Hospital yesterday by a boy, who called out: “ You are dragging something under the wagon!’’ The farmer got down, and the sight that met his eyes nearly took his breath away. Untying a rope from the hind axle-tree he dragged a mud-covered object from under the wheels, look up at his wife and solemnly asked: “ Does that thing look much like our dog Gen. Fremont?” She cried out in great mental distress, and wanted him to see if the dog couldn’t be restored to life. “He’s been shoked to death, and dragged, and run over and killed, and you might as well tiy to resurrect the Pilgrim Fathers!” he answered. “ One hour ago he was full of life and trying to U>ra tic-peddler’s heels off; look down Upon him now and remember al l you can to tell the children when we get home!”— Detroit Free Press.

The Miser and the Spendthrift.

The miser digs his heart out hollow to stow away his money in. He is, if possible, a bigger tool (ban the drunkard; he loves money simply because it is money, while the drunkard loves whisky for the fun he says there is in it. Misers almost always live to be old, and grow miserly to the last They accumulate by little#, and their hearts never open only on a crack, and only then to lot in another shilling. There is no condition of life free from this base passion, the highest as well as the lowest, those of the most mental capacity and those of the least. An old miser Is a sad enough sight, but next to an idiot, a young miser is the most revolting spectacle of all. Misers enjoy what they don’t use, lose what they save, and die possessed of the only treasure that is of no use to them. The most terrible sarcasm is a miser's funeral, for the heir often makes it gorgeous and expensive, and then pitches headlong into the pile the old fool has left. Next to hoarding up money and never spending it comes the folly of spending it foolishly. It is a sad sight to see a fine fortune wildly wasted by one who never earned a cent of it, and whose only ambition is to see how quick he can make a pauper of himself.

Spendthrifts are never generous, they are more often avaricious; I have known them to be reckless in public, and as mean as misers in private. It is seldom that men waste the substance that they have heaped up themselves, and when a spendthrift gits poor, he is one of the beat images of poverty we have. These men upver care to make any friends when they have wealth, and when they become beggars are deserted by everybody One hour of a spendthrift’s remorse at what he calls the ingratitude of the world is more than an offset to all he has ever enjoyed during the fury of his wastefulness. He who wantonly wastes his estate ministers more to his vanity than to his happiness, and what looks like noble-heart-edneas in him, if you will examine closely, will prove to be only a miserly selfishness. There are no two persons on earth who despise each other more than the miser and the spendthrift, and certainly there are no two whose example is much worse, and who do so little good with the means they have for benefiting mankind.— Josh Bidings, in N. Y. Weekly.

Late Fashions.

It is no wonder gentlemen complain that they cannot understand the vacillations of fashion. It is something beyond even feminine comprehension. Now that at last every well minded female has cheated or cajoled father or husband into purchasing a seal skin sacque, she awakes to the overwhelming fact that fashion vetoes that elegant garment. But, to compensate for this terrible loss, she ofters all sorts of charming wraps, and never have the cold days found us with greater or more handsome protections than are the elegant long cloaks. Of these I think I have spoken; but they are not the only wraps; there is a very great variety. The new dolmans, and other garments belonging to this family, are especially handsome. They have a recommendation in the large, loose sleeve, which offers abundant opportunity for fancy stuff, linings and other elaborations of lace, fur, feathers, etc. Close-wadded sleeves are made to wear under the ample, flowing drapery and the wind is licensed to blow the latter back at its own sweet will in order to reveal the half-hidden decorations. On account of being so easily worn over elaborate dresses and garnitures, the dolman is deservedly a favorite for an evening wrap in frill dress. 8. me exceedingly handsome ones of elegant fabrics and light colors are shown. The heavy woolen materials designed for large coats and cloaks are so fine in texture, and so beautiful in the woven patterns, that but little in the way of trimming is required. Some of the most elegant imported ones are absolutely without anV, unless we reckon as such the buttons and loops, or agraffes, of silver, gold or jet. The thick beavers are exceedingly beautiful, having a soft, woolly underside, and the surface diversified by some handsome designs, as twills, checks, basket patterns, quadrilles, etc. Garments es this material require no lining. Suits are decidedly passe, and cloaks and dolmans of wolf and gray cloths are considered most appropriate for elaborate toilets. These, from their nature, admit of profuse decoration, and lor this ruches of silk, embroideries, feathers and fur are employed. Silk and cashmere braids are also much used in trimming them. A garniture, to be 'used as a heading to a silk fringe, consists of silk pipings, with silk or crochet nail-heads ranged between in regular rows. For combination with worsted fringe, a similar effect is produced by narrow braid and small buttons.

A showy trimming results from the fol lowing arrangement: Four perpendicular loops of inch-wide silk braid depend from a horizontal bar of the same. This is studded with four small buttons, silk or crochet. This disposition of the braid is repeated up the entire front on both sides, and also around the bottom of the sacque. The sleeves are similarly trimmed, and the two large square pockets outlined in the same manner. An tlnaffected but rich and pleasing decoration is obtained by placing three large passementerie buttons in perpendicular rows, with regular spaces intervening. This is done around the bottom and on the cuffs, while two rows up the front hold in place the cords which fasten the cloak. Misses’ cloaks ditfer but little from those of their mum, mas, and cloth and worsted materials, both cheap and expensive, are shown for their selection. Where fur is employed as trimming for these little garments, it has been decided that young fox or coney is the meet appropriate. Graduated widths of plain galloon, very narrow fringes, small passementerie ornaments, are usually selected as preferable. A very jaunty litue sacque is halt-tight fitting, and has the skirt portion in the back divided just baek of the hips and in the middle, while each piece is turned back in revers. A deep fan-pleating is inserted in each opening, and flares slightly toward the bottom. For little “ bits” of girls a >eautiful ruddy cardinal cloth is imported, t makes a very elegant garment when trimmed with bands of fur, silk, or velvet, and with cufls and a collar of the same.

In selecting dress materials, ladies now do so with an eye to contrasts and combi nation. The same shades still continue fashionable; and black, though always a standard color, is comparatively little worn. Among new materials is * novelty known as brocaded velours, and, like all,

goods of this class, will be used chiefly for overdresses and other draperies. It combines well with plain silks and velvet, or any woolen goods, and cannot fail to become popular an account of its reasonable priee, costing less than medium quality silk It is very effective in appearance, being rich and elegant, but it Is ill adapted for any use where a strain will be put upon ft, aa in waists, etc., as it frays easily. Another desirable fabric is camel’s-hair vigogne, which closely resembles fine pressed opera flannel, but which In reality has a twilled surface. On account of ite breadth, forty-eight inches, it is in great demand for polonaises and overskirts. It may be procured for the same price as 'plain cashmere, and is double ite width. It drapes exceedingly well. For combination with velvet and silk, invisible plaids in myr-tle-green, navy-blue, and mixed gray are very effective. These plaids are also popular among ladies inclined to embonpoint, as they are generally but an inch square, and are very indistinct, as their name indicates. Lad ies who must purchase for growing daughters as well as for themseives may find under the name of “suitings" a variety of goods which seem for their special accommodation. Many of them are quite pretty and stylish, and the maximum price seldom exceeds fifty cents. A stuft which recommends itself as a school dress is Scotch winsey, a cheap material resembling knickerbocker camel’s hair', but a great deal coarser. It makes up well alone or in combination, and is to be obtained in all the new dark tints.— N. Y. Cor. Chicago Tribune.

A Chinese Way of Dealing With Corrupt Officers.

The following extract from a China paper gives a picture of paternal government in that country, in which the precept of not sparing the rod is carried into practice in a way which ought to strike terror into the hearte of the official hierarchy. The bamboo has long been known as an effective instrument for governing the masses and the correction of offenders against the Chinese code, but there is something novel as well as startling in the idea of a degraded official being made to hold out his hands for a hundred blows to be administered on the palms as a preliminary castigation for malversation. If such a mode of dealing with official malpractices were to become general we might saon hope to see a notable improvement in the administrative departments which in China are so notoriously bad and

corrupt. “We learn that one of the mandarins here, who had swindled the Government of a large sum of money when making purchases of warlike materials at Hong Kong during the Formosan affair, was brought up for trial before the redoubtable Ting and the Fautal. On the 4th es August this uegraded official was subjected, as an introduction to something severe in store for him, to a flogging of one hundred blows on the palms of his hands. He was to have been bambooed in the usual way as other criminals on the back, but for his bitter crying and vehement entreaties, coupled with the fact of his not being in very good health. The defaulting official is sumamed Man, and is related to a Taoutai of that name who was degraded at the same time with the Vicerov Ying Han in the Waising affair.’’— PaU Mall Gc*ette.

War Trappings of an Indian Chief.

The Smithsonian Institute received a few days ago a valuable and interesting addition to its museum in the shape of a complete and venr fine outfit of the war trappings of an Indian chief. The contribution comes from west of the Rocky Mountains, but no letter of transmission or description has been as yet received. The suit consists of a very fine headdress of red flannel, trimmed and decorated with beadwork and eaele’s feathers. The long train which descends from the head and over the shoulders is also fringed with eagle’s feathers. There is an undershirt which is worn next the skin It is of red flannel also, with a black and white border, and is sewn over with slk teeth. The suit includes a pair of war leggings of red cloth, highly decorated with thick beadwork in alternate squares of dark blue and light blue beads, and with fringes of buckskin down the sides. The war-shirt, worn outside, is of buckskin, ornamented with beads and human hair, and is painted on the breast and shoulder. In addition to these articles there is a complete flowing shabraque which is worn over the shoulders with the ends falling on each side of the wearer. It is worn only when the chief is mounted, as a chief is not fond of carrying much weighty apparel or accouterment, and is of flannel, faced with otter skin. To this is attached the bowcase and quiver-case, which are both heavily ornamented with bead work in various colofs. There came with the suit a pair of squaw’s leirgings of red flannel, very thickly and tastefully sewn with bea’dwork. These articles could not have cost less than some two hundred dollars in the aggregate, and the thick ornamental beadwork is very costly.— Washington Chronicle:

The Greatest Banks.

The paid-up capital of the Nevada Bank, $10,000,000 in gold coin, stands, with the exception of the Bank of Commerce of New York, unequaled by that cf any bank in the United States. The Bank of Commerce has also a capital of $10,000,000, but it is in currency. The largest bank in Canada is the Bank of Montreal, with a capital of $12,000,000, The Merchants’ Bank, in the same city, has a capital of $9,000 000. The following is a list of the only banks in the United States with a capital of $5,000,000 and upward: Bank of Commerce, New York, $10,000,000; Nevada Bank, San Francisco, $lO,000,000; «. R. R. and Banking Company, Savannah, $7,500,000; Bank of California, San Francisco,- $5,000,000; Merchants’ Exchange Bank, San Francisco, $5,000,000; American Exchange, New York, $5,000,009; Fourth National, New York, $5,000,000. It will be seen that San Francisco now stands on a par with New York as a great banking center, and the indications are that in time the bullion trade of the world will be controled by our city instead of London, as heretofore. The Nevada Bank, only a year in existence, has been such a success that it enters on its second year with doubled capital and the best wishes of the mercantile community.— San Francisco Post. _

—John D. Lee. the convicted Mountain Meadow fiend, sobs and threatens by turns, and it is thought probable will yet make a confesbion. .. » The courts in Boston have naturalized 1,500 persons this fail with a prospect of a far greater business in the future.

Our Young Readers.

HOW GRANDMA *<WENT TEETH“Wentteething!" I think I hear you cry. “Do teeth ever grow on bushes? Can you gather them by the quart or bushel, as one picks blackberries?" Not at all. And yet Grandma did really “go teething,” as she herself expressively declares. Let us hear her tell the story. “ I was not quite four years old when the baby came. ‘ A very little girl,’ do ruu say? Well, I don’t know about that. had an idea that I was pretty large. I suppose that came from Aunt Mehi table’s telling me, about forty times a day, that I was ‘big enough to know better,’ though what mischief I was up to I can’t for the life of me remember. “ Well, the baby was a darling; and I wasn’t the only one who thought so. She was as pretty as a pink and as sweet as a May-blossom. Every day, as regular as the day came* I used to take her a bright red apple and a scalloped cookie, sprinkled all over with caraway seeds. Mother always took them, and thanked me in the baby’s name; and the baby herself gave me a beautiful smile and seemed'to understand all about it. That is to say, *he generally did; but she was only a mortal baby, after all, and couldn’t be expected to smile when she had the colic. One day, when I came in with my offerings, I found her screaming and kicking like a little wild Injun; and mother and Aunt Mehitable were doing everything they could think of to sti'l her.

“‘l’ll make her stop just in a minute,’ said I. So I broke off a little bit of the cookie and put it in her open mouth. But she only screeched louder, and mother had a great piece of work to get it out again. “Don’t, daughter,’ said she. ‘Save them for by and by. Little sister’s in pain now.’ She was going to take them from my hand, when Aunt Mehitable spoke up: “ ‘ What foolish nonsense, Sybil!’(my mother’s name was Sybil). ‘ You’re just deceiving that child. ‘ She’ll find it out one of these days, and she won’t respect you half as much for it.’ “‘Yes, I shall ’spect her halt so much,’ said I; for I loved my mother dearly and couldn’t bear to hear a lisp against her. “ ‘ You don’t know anything about it, child,’ said Aunt Mehitable. ‘ Your mother means to be honest; but, strictly speaking, she isn’t. The baby hasn’t a tooth in her head. She couldn’t eat.an apple or a cookie any more than you could eat Bunker Hill Monument, if you could get it? ’* Not a tooth in her head! Couln’t eat a cookie, or even bite an apple! Was it possible ? “ Looking at the matter in the solemn light in which Aunt Mehitable presented it, and thinkipg of the many privations which the baby must suffer in consequence, I began to cry. “ ‘ Come, come, Jane. We can’t have but one baby here. If you’re going to set up opposition, you must go down-stairs.’ “ I didn’t know what ‘ setting up opposition’ meant; but I did know that I wanted to cry, so down-stairs I went, folding my apron up to my eyes and sobbing as if my heart would break. “Uncle Jack was in the kitchen. He was one of the kindest-hearted in the world, but he was a master hand to tease. “ ‘ What’s the matter, Sia ?’ ’• said he. “ ‘ The—baby—can’t—eat—cookies,’ said I, with a great burst of tears after every word. . , 1 “ ‘ Can’t eat cookies! Why not, I should like to know ?’ “ ‘ ’Cause she—hasn’t—a tooth—in her —head.’

“‘ No teeth! How does that happen ?’ “‘God forgot to make ’em.’ This seemed to me the only way to explain the mystery. It was my own private opinion, and I gave it without hesitation. “ ‘ How very sad!’ said Uncle Jack. ‘ Couldn’t you lend her some of yours ?’ “,I brightened up. Then my countenance fell. ‘ They’re all glued in,’ said I, dolefully. “ * I’ll tell you what to do,’ said he, at length. ‘Go up to Deacon Elbridge’s store and buy some. Buy ten cents’ worth. Here’s the money.’ “ I took the bit of silver from his hand. ‘ Do Deacon Elbridge sell teeths ?’ “‘ I saw some there once—real storeteeth,’ replied Uncle Jack, gravely. “I put on my sun-bonnet and started. My uncle stood at the door watching me as 1 trotted up the road. The store was only a short distance off, and 1 was soon standing at the large door, trying to muster courage enough to go in. "Sam Elbridge spied me out. at last. ‘ Why, if here ain’t little Topliff!’ he cried. ‘Have you come but shopping today ?’ “‘l’d like some teeths for the baby,’ said I, stepping just inside the door. “ ‘Some what?’ “ ‘ Some teeths for the baby. Store teeths. She didn’t, get any made yet. Here’s ten cetits.’ “ Sam looked at me for a minute, as if he couldn’t believe his own ears. Then he drew his lips together with the queerest little pucker, and I-. wondered if he was going to have a fit. “ ‘Teeth for the baby?’ said he. ‘ Oh! yes; of course. Up to the other end of the store. Walk right up. Miss Topliff.’ “ It made me rather uncomfortable to be called ‘ Miss Topliff,’ for many and many a time I had ridden to ‘ Banbury Cross’ upon Sam’s strong foot; but! followed him without a wore. i

“ Now, it happened that a year or two before this Deacon El ••ridge—being well along in years and bearing marks of. his age, as we all have to in one way or anomer—had been persuaded by his oldest daughter to go to Toppinsville and be measured (as he used to say) for sbme new teeth. He wouldn’t have a full sfet, for he had two m three stanch old ivories left, which lie declined to partwith at any price. •* . ‘“Butx you’d look so much better if you’d have them all out, father,’ said Maria. “ ‘ ’Taint best for a man of my age to look too well,’ was his reply. “ We’ll see what these few extras will do for me before I order any more.’ ‘And when he came home, with the * few extras’ in his mouth, how everybody did stare. Mrs. Elbridge didn’t say a word, and Maria only dared to whisper that they were a leetle too large for him. He did look terribly, people said. His mouth seeiqed to be drawn back into a dreadful kind of smile, without a bit of fun or heartiness behind it. “He walked up to the glass, looked at himsejf for a moment, and said just one word. It wasn’t a very pretty word, Children; at least, ngt when used in that way. “ ‘Thunder!’ said he. Then he pulled the teeth out of his mouth and clapped them into the table-drawer; and he never looked at them again for three months. “It was a long while before any of the

’ i," j j — nnrTE —k JFri family dared to touch them. But at last Bam ventured to take then, jnto the store one day, Just to show to one of his father's particular friends; and it wasn’t long before the teeth became a sort of standing Joke, at which the Deaeon could laugh as well a# anybody. “But they never found their' way back in the house. They' were*, always kept away back upon the upper shelf, jhut up tightly in anolfl tin box J ! “ Hollowed Batp, as I told yotu without saying a word, feeling glad and happy that the baby’s wants wete to be supplied. He took the box down from its place and handed it to me. “‘Here,’ said he., ‘Take them and welcome. We never charge for babies’ teeth. Hold the box right side «rp with care, and don’t open it tillyou get home. ’ “ Open it? .Of course not. I Oenldn’t wait for that.. 'The baby must have them as soon as possible, to make up for lost time. I rad toward home as fast as my two feet would carry me, and never stopped for a second until I had reached mother’s chamber. • , Here!’ said I, triumphantly,handing her the box. ‘ Here’s some teeths. I buyed ’em. Give tilth .baby, some new apple. Quick!’ ~ “ Mother opened the box, and took out what seemed to be a dull-lpoking piece of metal, with a few yellowish-white somethings looking'for all the world like kernels of dried corn fastened upon it. •Where have you, been, Jennie? Where did you get this?’ she-asked, in amazement. • . “• Deacon Elbridge. Hekeepr’em,’ I faltered. I was dreadfully, disappointed, for my treasures didn’t look a bit as I expcc ted. “•/Aunt Mehitable , took them from mother’s hand. ‘ For mercy’s sake!' said she, ‘ what on earth possessed ’em to give you this ?” ‘ £ ‘“I buyed it,’ I answered, proudly. ‘ Sam wouldn’t take ally ten'centals. Uncle Jack said so.’ r “ ‘ Uncle Jack said What?’ “ ‘ Baid I could, buy some dtore-ieeths for little sister. ’ “Then mother understood all about it, and she pitted me. She held up the large, unsightly plate and pointed to the baby’s sweet little mouth. ' ■ “ ‘ You. see, darling.’ -said She, ‘baby couldn’t use them. GocTwill give her some nice little-white teeth by-and-by. BJie will have to w|it for just as you did for yours.’ ■ “ She took me In her lap and kissed me. I saw her lip quiver a little as she looked at the ‘ stofe-teetlis,’ and Atfflt Mehitable’s face was a sight to behold. “ ‘lt was, too bad of Jack!’ she cried. ‘ He’s quite too fohd of hH jokes. I’ll go down stairs and give hup a good scolding? And down she w&ft. . “Tdid not hear- the" scolding!; but I couldn’t help hearing Uncle. Jack’s roar of laughter. He rushed up-stalrs like a school-bOy, took me ftom’ mother’s lap (I was crying bitterly now), ant) seated me upon his broad shoulder'. “‘lt.was too bad, r -little girlie, »'hc exclaimed. ‘Uncle Jack’s dreadful sorry. Can’t you forgive him?’ ? No, 1 couldh’t. , A “ ‘ Let nje see,’ -said fiOk speaking very slowly'. ‘I did Aink Or going Over to Aunt Ellea’Athta afternoon. . I did think of inviting a certain little gijl to ao with me. But I’m afraid I 'snkn’t nave the courage to do it now. I’m sure I never can take such a long ride all alone? “ Now, a ride to Annt’Ellen’s meant a , delightful drive through the pine. woods, where wild flowers and bunch-berries grew in abundance, tcried a little more softlyas.l thought of.it. “ ‘lf she only coujd forgive me,’ he went On, plaintively. i ‘ “ I rubbed mv eyes, but didn’t answer. “ ‘ The speckled hen’? eggs are hatched,* he continued, thoughtfully. , * And I have heard it said that Brindle’s new bossy is a perfect beauty. Dear me! howl wish I could go? , “ I wiped away my tears- .‘ You can go,’ said I, magnanimously; ‘tad I’ll go withyou? “ I couldn’t be sorry that I had forriven him, for the thought of that afternoon is one of- (he brightest pf my childhood’s memories. But I didn’t quite understand why it was that he obliged to tell Aunt Ellen all about the matter, dilating in the most extraordinary manner upob his own 'misconduot and my generosity,. “ ‘Too bad! too bad! Wasn’t it, Aunt Ellen?! Such.a dear, kind litfle girl, to forgive her cruel old uncle. But she’s really been teething—our little Jenny—just as-the children goblue-berryiag, with a very slight difference. . Don’t you see ?’ “ Deaf Uncle Jkck! ‘ He was a dreadful tease; Ah, me! he’s been in his grave these twenty years. Troubles came to him, as tftejr come to of them, as somebody says (I can’t tell who now, and it’s nd matter); eo they didn’t crush, him, ; “ I’m very sure that neither of us ever forgot the day wheh ‘our little Jenny went teething.”)— C- Bartlett, in N. Y. Independent. ~

A new kind of electric light, lately experimented upon at Berlion the roof of the Siemens-Halske works iif that city, proved so successful that ordinary writing could be read at a distance of a mile. When the light was thrown ioWard the clouds, by means of a mirror,, there appeared a luminous train thereon, which much resembled a tail of a cdtnet, and drew together great crowds of spectators .in the streets. Signals made by the instrument were" also repeated upon the clouds, becoming thus visible M®a very great distance. The experiments were made in the presence of a large number of artillery and 6ther branches of the Government service, and wera continued for nearly two hours. The ’ instrument, Which is provided with gjlocpmotive engine, is to be set up in the, Tege artillery ■polygon for furthererperftnempthe Ger. man War Department. intend jpg to purchase several of thje machines for military use, both afloat anti 'ashore. • <.*

The Welfare of the Human System

Is in a great measure dependent upon the way in which 'he bowels perform thoirevacuative function. If they are regular—and they can always.bo rendered so. by the use of Hostetter’s Stomach Bitters—an important essential of health is secured, and that blessing is very apt to follow. If they are Irregular, chronic constipation and indigestion supervene, the liver becomes disordered, and the bile, being diverted' from Its natural jhannel and purposes, raters and contaminates the blood, that yellowish cast of the skm and whites dr the byes whifch i? others of S fan! mote M' t °usj,<lure, are remedied and prevented by Hotdetier’s Bitters, the leading AmerfcAh Sped Oaf or dison ders of, the bowels, stomgqh and Ibgr. Ckwatrß’ Voltaic Plabtxr ’■ a gowfle and Kwtric Batterydqselv and oontintwiiWy bmjtied to the' skW by the adhesion rs the HiSter and iseapable at al times st affording the most grateful relief in Eheumatiam. Neuralgia and Sciatica.