Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 2, Number 16, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 14 October 1871 — Page 2

{From the M. Louis Republican]

SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL"—AN INNOCENT IMPOSITION ON COUNTRYMEN. As a. rule it is not a good thing to discuss bits of scandal at a public table, or in fact in any other place where interested strangers might be unwilling listeners. Besides being impolitic, it is in bad taste. It often occurs that, from an ignorance of facts, mistaken are made in the subject matter of such discussions, which are tolerably certain to bring down abusive explanations upon the heads ot the party making such blunders.

An amusing case of the kind happened at one of our hotels recently, in which although the party claiming to have been injured was not at all interested, goes to show "what might have been." A gentleman connected with a mercantile house in this city, going to rather a late dinner, found at one of the tables where he occupies a seat, two young gentlemen in all the glories of new ready-made clothes, and who had evidently come in from some flourishing "country city" for the purpose of having a limited good time. Their conversation was principally upon the conquests they had, or fancied they had, made. Suddenly No. 4 broke out -with, "Oh, Frank, you remember about that Mrs.--- that we read about in the papers t'other day?" "Well, yes why?"

Sent my card to her last night."

"No, did"ye though?" Did for a a fact. She came down into the parlor, and we had quite a chat. She's gay."

Oh, you rascal." Thon followed sundry nods, winks and further conversation, in which the name of the lady did not appear to great advantage as a loving and faithful wife. At this juncture the commercial gentleman looked up, and with an air of injury, mixed with one of settled, stern but mild ferocity, said

It is perhaps my duty, gentlemen, before this thing goes on any further, to inform you that the lady whose name you are using with such gross familiarity is my wife."

This was a percussion shell, and silence reigned for the space of a few seconds. One of the young fellows turned pale, while the other assumed a roseate hue. Then they exchanged colors, and stammered out some half uttered words.

Yes," continued the gentleman, "and I have always supposed that some little eccentricities of my wife would not be taken advantage of, or subject her to either rude conduct or outrageous insults. I have the right to demand an apolgy."

The waiter coming up at this moment asked them what they, would have for dessert. With a sickly smile one of them fixed his eyes upon "frozon custard," while the other was entirely absorbed with "jolly." Then they said they guessed they didn't care about anything more, and sneaked foolishly out.

When the merchant came out he found them in the hall, looking as if they had just been engaged in settling a delicate and difficult question. One advanced and said:

That was all confounded nonsense, you know," What was nonsense? "Why, 'bout my having an interview with your wife. I jes' got it up as a joke on Frank and am sorry for it.

He was then read a severe lesson by a man who had never seen the lady in question in his life, and told that hereafter he should be extremely cautious how ho allowed his tongue to wag in such an unlicensed manner. And

hit mtt

njr a w* woMEN.-

Elizabeth Peckham, the young and gifted Universalist preacher, of Milwaukee, has a finely written and suggestive article, with the above title, in the Golden Age, in which she says: "To-day, we hear much of mannish, strong-minnded women but the most unlovely of them all is nature's protest against one-sidedness—against the feble shadows of womanhood whom we have been pleased to term womanly; women without power or purpose, or royalty, whose purple is all gone when the pink of the cheek is faded, and richer women are coming to themselves and their own. Put it at its worst, that they are mannish, not manly shall we shrink from the unlovely fact, Instead of grasping it to find its meaning? Woman suffrage is the practical American form of asserting our claim to Minerva's parentage. Sprung from Jupiter's brain, we have a right to his thought, and to enter intellectually into all his life to be manly as well as womanly, for only thus can we express the universe. Is it worth while to fight gods? Can you thwart alt the intricate machinery that nature has made to this end? "But all hint at social questions makes the world quiver at its core for men and women are the two terms of the world, and to make clear their relations would be to solve the problem of life. Genesis is the beginning of the

Word of God, the first chapter of Revelation. And if it be written by divine inspiration, we shall not pause till we reach the vision and the glory which came to St. John on the Isle of Patmos —a new heaven and new earth.' It is not strange, when we think of it that the dream of the woman's heart forever attracts the man. It was part of him before all other things were, and grows nearer to hint when all else fades, in the mysterious interaction of forces, is always to have her light refine his fire, for heat and light are but different modes of motion conserving and interchanging with each other.

In a large sense, we know no sin. No man has deliberately turned his back on God. Like the old philosophers he was looking at the stars when

he tumbled in the ditch. A divine hunger is behind the coarsest satisfactions. It is possible that nature, in ways which seem to you foolish and coarse, (are you foolish or coarse yourself that anything should seem so to you?) is building slowly to satisfy this need. Even the most mannish woman and the jangling of woman suffrage conventions may have fine meanings that you *v(» not

CORNELL UNIVERSITY is the only one of the three hundred and sixty-nine colleges in our country which has a Professorship of American History. In fact it would surprise most of our college professors to learn that America has any history worth the teaching in comparison with the learned guesses respecting the wolf that suckled Romulus, and the Amazons who inspired the early Greeks with awe. The next in1

Young Folks.

CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.

My first is in oval but not in square. My next is in wood but not in hair. Mv third is in down but not in up. My fourth is in mug but not in cup. Mv fifth is in Alfred but not In Jonn. My sixth Is in Earl but not in Don. My seventh is in ancle but not in aunt. My eighth is in travel but not in jaunt. My ninth is in out but not in in. My tenth is in sorrow but not in siiL, My whole is a name, you doubtless know it, Of a distinguished, well-known poet.

(Out of the following twenty-eight words make five proverbs:) The foolish cousins are boasters. You lose a guard by fear. Knavlng is never modestv. A trade is good doing. Turn to virtue. Danger doubles worst to liars. EGO.

CHARADES.

•**.

.u""

If a cow should get in front, my lord, Of that which draws my first, 'Twould be very bad lor the cow, my lord,

If worst should come to worst.

If the will of my second be crossed, my dear, As sometimes it must be, There'll be kicking and pouting no doubt, my dear, A

A sight I dislike to see.

My whole is a work of art, my child, Yet we trample it under feet, An8 though it be never so good, my .child,

Very otten we soundly beat. SARAH W H. 2. A fisherman trying to catch my third, and got

whole did my first to my second.

Blessed is the memory of an old-fash-ioned mother. It floats to us now, like the beautiful perfume of some woodland blossoms. The music of other voices may be lost, but the entrancing memory of hers will echo in our souls forever. Other faces will fade away and be forgotten, but hers will shine on until the light from Heaven's portals shall glorify our own. When in the fitful pauses of busy life our feet wander back to the old homestead, and crossing the wellworn threshold, stand once more in the low, quaint room, so hallowed by her presence, how the feeling of childish innocence and dependence comes over us, and we kneel down in the melton sunshine, streaming through the western window—just where long years ago we knelt by our mother's knee, lisping "Our father." How many times when the tempter lures us on has the memory of those sacred hours, that mother's words, her faith and prayers, saved us from plunging into the deep abyss of sin! Years have filled great drifts be-, tween her and us, but they have not hidden from our sight the glory of her pure, unselfish love. a*

GETTING BACK GRACEFULLY.—Ignatius Donnelly, of Minnesota, in a recent speech, spoke as follows in regard to his recent change of politics: "A good deal has been said about my returning to the Republican party. I do not feel that I ever was out of that party. I may have got one leg over the traces, But I was In the harness all the while. [Great laughter.] If there was any crime In kicking that leg out of the traces, my defense will have to be "that of the boy who went fishing on Sunday. A preacher saw him sitting on the river's bank. 'My son,' »id he, don't you know you are committing a

1 nous rill ign It us a gt

plat I to make

h- 1.

Meet them

reverently and perhaps you may win their rneanimg. Are you not certain that the coarsest body has some fine soul within it to hold it together, or else it would fly back to its original matter? It is this I search for in all men and women, in all facts and systems.

orm, but there isn't enough of it

applau that th

TRK Unitarians pro}*^© to rai^e ?*«).- t-M for ntl denonn '.nal jf.es .i r^rrapti bu.i iir-acr.md |NA1 -iRlOhnrcli c:W. -v": .1. r*

:inve a

leaving

MAUDE.

PROVERB PI.

TEMPY.

TRANSPOSITIONS.

(Fill the following blanks with the same words transposed i'-VV" 1. The boy as he looks oyer the—. 2. He swept the with his 3. \ve him the remnant of

MOLLY.

4. We sized the with some T). The fell into the (3. I will that I it.

FRED SNELL.

7. Transpose an alarm into an astronomic term. 8. Transpose to liberate into reproached. 9. Transpose a mythologic king of Crete into a man's name. CARTER.

ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, CHARADES &c. IN LAST WEEK'S PAPER. rs

Enigma.—Neither gods nor men can endure inferior posts. Word Puzzles.—Berrien. Pontiac.

ANAGRAM.

Romerfiber well and boar in mind, A constant friend is hard to find And when you find one just and true, Chango not the old ono for the new.

THE OLD-FASHIONED MOTHER. Thank God! some of us have an oldfashioned mother. Not a woman of the poriod, enameled and painted, with her great chignon, her curls and bustle whose white jeweled hands have never felt tho clasp ot baby fingers but a dear old-fashioned, sweet-voiced mother, love-light shone, and brown hair, threaded with silver, lying smooth upon her faded cheek. Those dear hands worn with toil, gently guided our tottering steps in childhood, and smoothed our pillow in sickness even reaching out to us in yearning tenderness, when her sweet spirit was baptized in the pearly spray of the river.

ore -.ly.'

•e to IIIil

•.f he in rr»: pro

TKRRR-HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, OCTOBEK 14,1871.

[From the Cincinnati Times and Chronicle.] TRA

VELINQ IN THE W&8T.

Experience of the Fat Contributor. I recall an adventure with a night clerk once in a Western towj. I retired,

directions to be ctlled for

the express, which came alc^g at 3 o'clock in the morning. It waj important that I shouldn't miss thit train, and with this idea weighing on my mind, I couldn't sleep much. Waking suddenly from a doze, I consumed my watch, and found it was rearly 3 o'clock. I dressed hurriedly, md going below found the night clerk asleep, with his teet upon the stove ant a haltconsumed cigar in his mouth. I shook him, and the following dialogte ensued:

Traveler—"Won't the omnibus be here soon?" Clerk (gasping fearfully H" Wba om'bus

Traveler—"Why, the omnibul for the Eastern express." Clerk—"No om'bus (gap) run that train?"

Traveler (growing excited atthe.prospect of being left)—"How far Is'it to the depot?"

Clerk (lazily strife ing a match to relight his cigar)—" 'Bout a mile." Traveler—"Well, call up the porter, and send him down with my baggage, and I'll walk. Come, no time to lose."

Clerk—"Por'er won't get up. He goes to bed for keeps." Traveler (dancing around with nervous excitement)—"How am I to get to that train, then

Clerk (a long gap)—"Damfino," Traveler (diplomacy necessary)— "Would half a dollar induce you to go down to the depot with me and carry my baggage?"

Clerk (springing to his feet with great alacrity)—"Certainly, sir, I will light a lantern and jog right along."

The depot was a mile from town, a lone place, with no other building near. No friendly light glimmered from its windows, the agent probably enjoying his necessary five hours' sleep. "Good-bye," said the night clerk, as he received his half dollar and was about to return, leaving me to watch out in the cold for the train. "See here," said I, "is this train usually on time?"

Hardly ever known to be on time," replied the night clerk. "Three or four houis behind sometimes."

Here was a pleasant prospect for me, alone at that desolate depot of a dark, wintry night, I was fearful of robbers, too. I hadn't much money, but how could the robbers be expected to know that

Can't you stay with me until the train comes?" I pleaded. "I can't do it boss (gaping again.) Must got back to tho hotel (gap.) Good night (gap take care of yourself old man." "What can I do if ti.e train don't stop (Gaping fiercer than over)—Damfino

Visiens of robbers filled my nund as tie lantern receded, and I yelled, "Would half a dollar induce you to stop until the train comes?" "Certainly," cried the night clerk, cheerfully, stopping his gaps as he came back on a run. For once the train was on time, so he was not long delayed. It halted but a second I jumped on the platform with my baggage, the train started, and the night clerk yelled, "Here, you! Where's my half dollar?"

And the voice of the traveler came wafted back as he gasped "Damfino!"

WnAT GOOD DID HE DO After all, Not "What sort m~M*i.iimtM«»»».«n

he make in the world?" but "what good did he do?" How much of the greatness and fame of this world would sink to naught, and be as the brazen bolls that ring forth their discordant sounds when *e feel most like quiet and reverential silence, if this was the question asked. James Parton says he kas somotimes thought that a proper history of the last century could be written without so much as mentioning the name of Napoleon Bonaparte for nothing is really worth recording as final history except what promotes tho permanent welfare of man. Bonaparte founded nothing, established nothing, suggested nothing, which our race will not gladly dispense with, when wo learn now to make a better uso of our energies than in destrQying one another. He was a tempest. He did not help France out at her difficulties, nor make tho future easier for her. When lie had passed away, the beautiful country which he had dazzled and drained, fell helpless into tho hands of a poor old man and a few old women. To this day, thero is no hope for Franco except in forgetting Bonaparte, and extirpating nearly all that ho left Jbehind him. .....

LUXURIES OF THE ANCIENTS.—NO luxury was in greater favor among the ancients than roses as an ornament and a pet fume. To enjoy the scent of roses at meals, an abundance of roses were shaken on the table, so that the dishes were completely surrounded. By an artificial contrivance, roses during meals descended on the guests from above. Heliogabalns, in his folly, ehused roses to be showered down upon his guests in such qantitiesthat a number of them, being unable to extricate themselves, were suffocated in flowers. During meal times they reclined on cushions stuffed with rose leaves, or made a eouch of the leaves themselves. The floor, too, was strewn with roses, and in this custom great luxury was displayed. Cleopatra, at an enormous nxpense, procured roses for a feast she •_*.ive to Anthony, and had them laid two cubits thick* on the floor of th

gf'Mt siM t'i-h »n tlft 't't 'h biuviuet room, and then caused nets to .'s" thu in.'-n.i-d.ioke turned out to •Wal.' said tho boy, «lt can bo no r. at ,M.

lho {lowers in

for I hn!n" kotclu-d ruttim.' fl-ov 71 No woieicr tin is ul w- is sc trod whe „, ht#r.J I ran upon ih®' n.it ii« 1' nuo*",. 1 ill

I ,-1- n': but also the to be cov

mil 1 1

in ivini|U'-t robins, nnades t!i:it led to rwl rusts, interhyacinths, about upon

Tliom. to DO covereu 1:11

akea psrtv out of. Tumultuous ,!K} narcissi, and walked a HUSO. 1 In f.»et my friends, I found

tho temperature was Increasing at fiftythe rate of one degree for every four fee! I d-'s.^cnued. -rot h°t I concluded I was going to tho devil. [Laughter.] Now I don't think a man ought to go to tho devil simply to prove that he isn't afraid to go to the deTil. So I toAk the back track. I came up like lif-drownedgepiior." {Tremendous outburst of langli%«f.3

wUh Vio:-Nt

tjia

fl0werv Diatform.

the flowery platform

A DARIXO HUNTER.—Tiie Ya:s• "II DaJtottan thns describes a famous in li} ter of that region:

Louis Kelly is perhaps tho most daring and successful Indian hunter In TH-J groat West. He IMVM ALONE, tights -'one, we.irs a cotapioie suit of buckski: 1. and a turban around bis head, when out on the prairie. He is said to be a graduate of a college, and hails from Virginia or South Carolina. It is thought he a tate "j-

He Is about year ba id-

cor. »n\ wfl! m. jiat sort H" nevr i-

and nui-

"ii ,r. Thf fh'A 'tif. An I

li, n« 71 1

ra. 1

v.-ill

ftlitne |hro'!i.*h

f»«'. is r.

.- #•TJ vir on a triii w. h* h"

•y. n.5 toc-a-i

way iio.rai

-r. a•»rs

AN APT HUNDA SCHOOL SCHOLAR. The following story, although not. new, has sufficient point and humor to merit its republication at least once a year:

Some rogaish boys in a town near the capital of New Hampshire persuaded Joseph Jasper, or, as he was generally called, Joe, to attend Sabbath school.

Joe was an overgrown, half-witten profane lad, and the boys anticipated fun but- the various questions propounded to him were so readily and correctly answered that no one could for a moment suppose that he was not versed in theological lore.

Joe was duly ushered in and placed on a settee in front of one on which his friends were seated, and the examination commenced.

The teacher first questioned the class on their regular lessons, and then turned toward Joe.

n''

t.uht

My friend, who made the world we inhabit?" "Eh?" said Joe, turning up his eyes like an expiring calf.

Who made the world that we inhabit?" Just as he was probably about to answer the question, one of the boys seated behind him inserted a pin into his (Joe's) pants, about nine inches below the ornamented buttons on his coat. "God

Almighty!" answered Joe at

the same time rising to ms feet. "That is correct." answered the teacher,

'but it is not necessary, that you should rise in answering a sitting posture is just as well,"

Joe was seated and the catechism proceeded. Who died to save the world

The pin was again inserted* "Jesus Christ!" in a louder tone than before, again rising to his feet, "That is correct, but do not manifest so much feeling do be a little more reserved in your manners," said the teacher, in an expostulating tone of voice.

After Joe had calmed down, exami nation went on. What will be the final doom of all the wicked men?" was the subject now up for consideration, and as the pin was again stuck in, Joe thundered out, with a still higher elevation of his body:

Hell and damnation!" My friend, you give the answer to all the questions cqjrectly, but while you are here we wish you to be a little raore mild in your words, Do, if you can, restrain your enthusiasm, and give a less extended scope to your feelings."

THE PRUSSIAN STYLE OF PROPOSING. fl It is well known that marriage here has como to be looked upon as aJuxury to bo indulged in only by tho better circumstanced. The large number of serv.'nts, waiters, day-laborers, and others without any regular trade, rarely marry at all. They find it hard enough to earn a decent living themselves. Those who do marry wait until about the twenty-seventh year. If he is a merchant, he must wait till his business is established if a professional man till he has a good practice or position. Every class, as a rule, marries late for that which is necessary with the poor, has, from its generality, come to be regarded as a custom for an.

It is not customary, as in America, for young gentlemen and ladles to associate much together, since the expenses of gallantry are thought beyond their means. Youne rvr-oanas, where each one pavs hls own expenses, and lives economically as h'e can. When they seek female company, which is only now and then, it is at the public bails or In worse connections. .his custom has become so established hat it works the other way, and no young lady, who values her reputation, will allow herself to be seen alone in the company, of a gentleman before she is engaged to him, and before the engagement is duly published in the press. The formalities of betrothal aro celebrated in the presence of her friends. They much wonder at the liberty of American young ladies in Germany, who allow themselves to go with any young gentleman acquaintance whatever, being one evening with one and tho next evening with another.

HOW A JOKE ENDED. Some two weoks ago a party of Corrol township boys started homo about midnight, going up the pike on horseback. At tBe Valley Inn school house they halted, to have a'nioment's talk bofore separating. Whilo thoro a man rode somewhat hastily down tho pike. The boys determined to find out who he was and whero he had been. So they called out, in sport, "Stop thief! Halt!" Tho rider, instead of stopping, spured on his horse, and, arriving at Hamilton's store started up tho Brownsville road One of tho boys lollowed, crying out, "Halt!" Tne stranger, finding himself in danger of being overtaken, wheeled his horse into a fence corner, dismounted, and took to the woods. Somewhat dismayed at the serious turn tho joke was taking, the unknown was told to como. No attention was paid to this, however, and tho mysterious stranger fled through the woods out of sight. The horse was taken back $o the pike, and put in a stable at Vallev Inn.

Now C9iitan the queer of the story. The next morning a man camo down the pike with word that a horse had been stolen the night before. Ho was told about the strantre hoixe and on go5nr to th^ stable found tho animal. to be thief, hen the young men C-IM'KI out, "Stop thioft"—Rjniblican..

to tho pi.i -ait o: ..n rse-thie

A MYSTERY.—Twodaridesmid bought *f rk, an! Sam having no place to ps:t his sh in, trusting the whole to Julius' keeping. Next morninif they met, when Julius said:

A mc* s: range thing happened at my house last i«1 it, Sam. All myst «ry to me."

Ah, Julius, what was dat?" "Well, Ham, dis mornin' I went I down In de cellar for to get a pieco of hog for breakfast, and I put my hand I down into tho brino an' TAIL round, but I no pork dere—all gono—couldn't tell what be went with it so I turned up •ih^hir'l an'. Sim. true preachin', do -.ts hiut eat a hoi" cl.ir fro do bottom "b bar*! mid dr tir^! .i do pork all

mi was petr:f,'Klwith astonishment,

btt'

ho'.'

1 ,1: *Vii

4* Mk 4 V« 1

bruit* run out ob de

Ah, Sam, dat's mystery*"

Til. TO* th.

.-•» a.

»v

iS i'i

fc.

EIGHTEEN CENTURIES AGO. The pick and shovel are letting tho modern public into the family secrets ot people who perished at the commencement of the Christian Era.

More than eighteen hundred years ago a shower of fire, ashes, and boiling water buried the city of Pompeii, the most dashing place in Italy, many a fathom deep. To-dav the palaces of its "first families" are traversed, by strangers from all parts of the civilized world, and the habits and modes of living of its former residents, patrician and plebeian, are indicated so plainly by the relies that have been disentombed that he who runs may read.

Two hundred men, women, and girls are now employed in excavating the

ruins

of Pompeii, and anew and most interesting chapter in the history of that city has just been opened several of its inhabitants having been discovered iu such a state of preservation as would enable any coroner's jury to determine the classes to which they belonged when living, and the peculiar ciroumstances unaer which they met their fate.

In one of the mansions lately uncovered lay the crumbling shape of a lady evidently the mistress of the house, and bv her side, in the remains of what had been a reticule, ninety-one pieces of silver money, two pairs of ear-rings, and a fingei-ring of gold, together with some keys. She had evidently been surprised by death in the midst of housewifery and in the same attitudo —a posture of agony—in which she breathed her last in the days of tho Evangelists, the antiquarians found^ her skeleton form a snort time ago. The web of the drapery in which she was clothed was visible, and its fineness indicated that the wearer had belonged to the order of the F. F. P.'s, or first families of Pompeii.

A JAPANESE HOTEL. As I was about to pass my first night in a Japanese house, I watched anxiously the preparations for sleeping. These were simple enough a mattrass in the form of a very thick quilt, about seven feet long, by four wide, was spread on the floor and over it was laid an ample robe, very long, and heavily padded, and provided with large sleeves. Having put 011 this night dress, tho sleeper covers himself with another quilt, and sleeps, i. e., if he has had some years' practice in the use of this bed.

But the most remarkable foaturo about a Japanese bed is tho pillow. This is a wooden box about four inches high, eight inches long, and two Inches wide at tho top. It has a cushion ot folded papers on the upper side to rest the neck on for the elaborate manner of dressing the hair does not permit tho Japanese, especially the women, to press the head 011 tho pillow. Every morning the uppermost paper is taken off from the cushion, exposing a clean surface without the oxpenso of washing a pillow-slip. 1 passed a greater part of tho night in learning how to poiso my head in this novel manner and when I finally closed my eyes. It was to dream that I was being slowly beheaded, and to awake at tho crisis to find the pillow bottom side up, and my neck resting 011 the sharp lower edge of the box. During my stay in the country I learned many of Its customs, mastering the use of the chop-sticks, and accustoming my palate to raw fresh fish, but tho attempt to balance my head on a two-lncli pillow I gave up in despair, after trying in vain to secure thoiox and tying it to my neck and head.

EXPLOSIONS. miner who lias experienced

A SABHATH SCHOOL SERMON.—Tho way of the transgressor truly is hard. A few days ago a boy named Sim ins entered a farmer's orchard nearNorrlstown, and climbed up a tree for tho purpose of stealing apples. While moving about among the limbs his foot slipped, and he fell to the ground, a distance of twenty feet, and was instantly killed.

The fate of this unhappy boy Simms conveys an impressive warning to the young. It teaches an instructive lr*« 'S' of

son which we hope will bo heeded, all boys who reaa tho painful story the death of Simms. Let each of them

remember that Simms was cordmitting a grave offense, for which there was no excuse, and for which he deserved punishment. Let them bear in mind that it he had not gono into that tree he would probably now be alive and well, and growing up to a useful and honored manhood. Remembering this, let them resolve henceforth that when they wish to steal apples they will always stand on tbo ground and knock them down with a pole, because ft is the only safe way.

Trius it is that, from the experience of those who have gone before, we dcrivo instruction in wisdom, and learn how to keep our footsteps from erring.

OXLY AX ACQUAINTANCE .—A stont English gentleman a visitor at a water-Ing-plaoe, was In thehsb of convey. Untr fumiliarlv with DOIJ. Id I R, I. a rh ir..e-f-rof t.l!ejp!.--' 0, v.'li ttook d' K^l.i

ITI bo.o-ting oj Ti: a' T"! .ifi'H tn«» d"iy, the tftr.h m-n w.«* itcd th« d'«f,r of hi* I"-iirin^, Donsld came 1 up. drivfnr a ftrt botj» relate-as I sup* :v- jr with yon, Donald." 1 id *.111 Is. I "No." irted Iw -M, stsr-

Hk- If*

THE DIGGER INDIAN. The condition of tho Digger Indian^ indigenous of Tuolumne,^ has been rather improved by the white occupation. He has more horse-meat and more stale beef he lives in framed cabins instead of wigwams he carries a rifle or shot gun in place of a bow and arrow the bucks affect in dress a sort of Mexico-American and Indian, dandyism the squaws, in hoops and, calico, approximate dimly to tho fashion. In many cases his house is furnished with chairs, stove, and bedstead ho pay-s no taxes society imposes on him no burdens or duties ho has no legitimate business his squaw pans out a few bits per day from some crevice in the ledge, or totters from tho market with an immense funnel shaped basket full abandoned beef and shin-bones, while he, unburdened, in lordly fashion, follows after no infection of woman's rights h.«s yet reached his tribe. Occasionally he murders a friend, but American law does not descend to his sphero, and looks on such transactions in tho same light as when one mule kicks another to death. Tho largest settlement Is near Jamestown, consisting of somo twenty or thirty houses and wigwauis. in an irregular huddlo on a mound-shaped elevation near tho road. Here, on the plaza, in fVont of the town, during the hottest of the day, may bo seen the bare-headed squaws, sitting in semi-circles, gossiping over the last circus. A circus is a

Digger's chief glory. It is for this ho blesses the advent of tho Americans. Beforo they came there was no circus, Hiid far less mule, horse-meat and whisky. He flocks In to the fourth ot July and other celebrations ho luxuriates in them contributes nothing to the expense has 110 idea what they aro for neither does ho care but tho cream of their enjoyment is his. Unnoticed and uncared tor by tho superior race, laboring under 110 bun like the negro or Chinaman, he is tho happiest, healthiest, most independent man in America. His head, uncovered to the sun, bears a black mane thicker than that of a liorso ho lives and lives, and becomes more and more shriveled and driorand drier but still he lives, until a hundred and a hundred and ten or a hundred and twenty or a hundred and fifty—110 one knows how long, for his ... doctored vitals aro so tough and strong that they keep to their work until the last drop of blood is fairly dried out of his mummified carcass.

A TYPO'S ERROR.—Tho anguisn of oditors will never cease until those remorseless bandits, tho typesetters, aro wipod off tho face of tho earth. Tlierd* for instance is the editor of tho Easton Argus. Ho alluded to ono of the most oniinent citizens of Ills villagoas "a noble old burgher, proudly loving his native State." But was it not a serious causo for dissatisfaction and alarm when tho editor sawin tho paper next morning that tho remorseless fiend up stairs had mado him speak of the eminent citizon as "a nobby old burglar prowling around in a naked state?"

tAnd

onongn

carry any weight beforo it in the direction of the nearest vent. In going it sweeps along the ceiling, tearing away props, brattices, and everything else, even the pillars of coal. The unfortunate miner who may bo within its influence instinctively throws himsolf flat upon tho ground. Beforo ho can rise the gas has encountered the body of air moving in an opposito direction They come together with an olastic shock sufficient to chango tho direction of the gaseous tornado, and back It comes with a rush, lifting tho miner and flinging him probably a distance of fifty feet against tho ragged coal. Behind again thero is a sliocK of puro air and foul, and again tho gas whirls back with undiminished fury, lifting tho miner once more, and dashing him back whence he originally camo. Again and again this terriblo game of battledore Is repeated. Nothing can resist its impetuosity. Moanwhilo tho terrible alter damp accumulates with surprising rapidity. This Is composed of the black damp which hangs from tho roof, and the white damp which gathers along the floor. It joins tho gas at every rush, and adds power and volume to its fury. The helpless miner struggles with superhuman strength to resist tho bufl'etings of tho mine fiend, but now the damp begins to seize upon his senses. Tho sensation is not unpleasant. He feels a slight dizziness. IIo becomes weak and sloepy. He staggers. His knees suddenly loso all their power, and he falls.

can it bo regarded as

excessively singular that the aforosaid noble old burghor called around In tho morning with a can of nitroglycerine and a brigade of Irishmen with Solfcrino hair, for the purpose of blowing that former of publlo opinion Into microscopic fragments.? Tt was right for tho editor to louvo. Tho peculiar combination of circumstances was such that wo cannot blamo him for wrapping up his only shirt In a c« py ot his last oditiou, and soloctod tho "railroad pass that carried him the longest distanco, and leaving suddenly for Liberia or Oskaloosa, or somewhere. Men owe It to tho community to prevou» if possible but why wliwtiM Hut tllilt 1 1»"jr bo talson out and shot?

ADROITLY HIT.—A eorrospondont of tho Herald and Presbyter, writing from Minnesota, tollstho following: "I havo picked up'a little story.' which I think too good a roproof for disturbers of tho peace In churches to be lost. A presiding older of tho United Brothron church was preaching in this same neighborhood, and was much annoyed by por~ sons talking and laughing, lie paused, looked at tho disturbers, and said, 'I am always afraid to roprovo those who misbehave In church. In the early part of my ministry I made a great mistake. As I was preaching, a young man was constantly laughing, talking and making uncouth grimaces. I paused and administered a severe robuko. After tho clow of the servico one of tho official members camo and said to me, 'Brother, you mado great mistake. That young man whom you reproved is an Idiot.' Since then 1 have always been afraid to reprove those who rnisbehavo in church, lt'st I should repeat that mistake, and reprove another 'Idiot.' During the rest of that sorvico at least, thero was good order."

LOCA MATT hltS.

Tho years will como and go as tho hours ot astnglo night. A generation will pass unnoticed at)l sink Into the silent grave unknown. Tho great, tlio rich, and •the mighty, will slumber forgotten in deuth' The conflagration will sweep over th mighty city and reduce Its splendor to dust and ashes. But the Palace of Music will never die. Itnlnfluencewill he felt throughout all time, and tho Instrument '-old by L. Kliwner will ever retain a reputation for beauty, excellence, cheapness and durability atikuewa to those of other dealers. "Truth is a goddess of so fair a rnlon,

She must he truly loved If truVy .11 For so 'ti* written In the book of Fate— The of Truth alone ts con*••mtv." Tin Ti ut ii, about whfeli so rmiuij hes b*on said, Iwllial, (j'ul:el{ IJeiTJ liavo the lamest stock 6t drugs and medlclnc-s In Wisntcrn Indf i!!a,. Those who d.-.nf.f 11 bo eonV'"*e 1' 'jy

C'l!.a*

Fourth streets. Ladle*, there Is the place to get your perfumery and toilet articles. We have Just received a communication from an old lady wn town Pi vhfch sho recounts her numerous blessings, statWu: ihatnotaslnj:l .1 u. o-.-urred for a r* to mar her peace of mind, and yet she wa i.ol h&p,, «-itll a few days ago when she comimiiit-i bay In her ti coff,. -, sn:rnr-. fplrr s, fnlMa, &«., (it Xultle's. -i:. K-tiows ii'»M9 row. "Keep out of love, law, and bad weather,"Is an old maxim for hapiiiuess. Em a:r ninTfm never beon fo.uid to fidl. I i-f.' lo'.vn, you pi- Kw all you j.ii ase do what jroo plciis, you buy your ff" a of W. A. !E JSJ. :c: yon

Ui l.apw- t:.:U be ,'!• :u at ids fin-' '.a!.,on omoo ,'te the Ce:C.

Bau!

lie ei,i ,iftr Main and

Mt-

ii vote

is I.'-v-UO 1 &r«ryt\

•rrohfs

v.'l.en t.'ITT woiiifoi vote In Tf' •tfon. 'i. 5. .!.ee*o:nvote In favor of

th' sr. r.f

1- r-. Th

en vo 3

time, ti',.

V-tT: It

iayu•.•/,. get

•n-ty Strong m-ikea »an»,4c^*.*i« .aUy.