Terre-Haute Weekly Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 10 November 1869 — Page 1

iiI

A WAgnisoTpM^oornal UyoiraMrv»»H light on the BELKNAP question. He 'V^

in the prime of life and health,

and has a-

reraarkable resemblance to Senator STEW--IRT, of Nevada."

A CANADIAN PAPER says that Prince ARTHUR has been among fools during his stay in Canada, which is highly complimentary to its subscribers. The paper says that where he has stopped to dine, the remnants of wine and water have been eagerly drank up, and in some cases the glasses themselves have even been taken away. One servant gave satisfaction to a much larger number than could otherwise have had a sip, at one railway eating saloon, by changing the glass, and then refilling it as often as the credulous maidens drained it. When the Prince had turned the sod of the new railway, all the ladies in the vicinity of the new earth rushed for it, and triumphantly exhibited small bits of the same wrapped in handkerchiefs..

STICKING probes into old sores, tearing open old wounds, reviving old feuds, and

THE Danville Railroad appropriation having been carried through the Council by the votes of the <Journal's> friends, it is to be hoped that unhappy organ will not continue to cherish impotent wrath or useless malice against them. We have no doubt that all the members of the Council voted, on that question, in accordance with their convictions of duty, and while we believe that time will vindicate the wisdom of the majority, we have no inclination and find no occasion, to question the motives of the minority. The <Journal> has been zealous on both sides of the question, pretending to be in favor of the proposition one day, and assailing it the next. In fact, it has published "<editorials" on both sides in the name issue>. We hope, therefore, that it will not be utterly inconsolable at the result, but will settle down again into its well-worn ruts of stupid amiability. ———<>———

The State Convention.

TERMS $2.00 A YEAR)

Some Thoughts on Chnrch Music The musical part of Church service,

lmru

rekindling animosities that should long "press religious

wince have died out, constitute the cheer- 'n

ful occupation of a few Republican pa pers, as an exercise preliminary to our State campaign. Those who think we have strength to spare for that sort of diversion have little knowledge of the actual situation. Our view of the field fails to discover any margin for speculative purposes. We can hold the State fast to the Republican cause if we go into tbo -approaching contest a united party. This condition is essential to success. Can we not have it? Can we not bury past dissensions and, letting devotion to principles absorb personal and local acerbitie-, "go in and win?" Such a consummation is certainly worth striving for.

a

while attempting to fit pie of all classes. Yet there are some thoughts which are worthy the consideration of all.

We find one clas%. setting up quartette music, often presenting the inconsistency of insisting that the congregation shall have part in the prayers, but no part in the songs of praise. On the other hand there are many in these days who cry out against choirs as an abomination which ought not be tolerated in the house of God. Now may it not be that even good and appropriate quartette singing is better adapted to stir religious emotion and express it, than poor congregational singing? And in nearly all cases, is not the medium course, of a choir of trained singers to lead the congregation the better one to pursue? In the present popular onslaught upon choirs there is danger that a very necessary element in church music may be driven or swept away. A good choir is necessary to good congregational singing.

Then in reference to appropriate music there are some who declare that all good music is religious, and others who see or hear the devil in any thing of quicker time than a funeral dirge. A great deal of good music is not religious, for while it may please,it docs not stir nor express any religious feeling. Some tunes so touch the nerves that the feet of the oldest and the dullest and the most religious—no intention of mingling these classes—need be held from dancing. Since the dance, as a religious 'service, has gone out of use, such tunes are not appropriate as voluntaries, interludes or accompaniments. On the other hand, while funeral dirges, and minor tunes, have their appropriate place, there are religious sentiments and emotions, such as praise and gratitude, joy and triumph, which they cannot express. Here again we want the golden mean. Every thing is proper which expresses the appropriate religious feelings of the congregation or which arouses these. At the beginning of service, that is best which draws the mind from the ordinary cares and toils of life, and lifts it into the immediate presence of the Maker. At the close, that is most appropriate which is most thoroughly in harmony with the general tenor of the preceding services. The aim at the opening rid to thoughts of God, and at the close to

The proper time for holding the Republican State Convention is a subject of discussion in many of our exchanges, and in political circles throughout the State. We do not propose to enter into an argument calculated to show that any particular date for that important gathering would be of greater advantage to the party than another. Those who propose a late Convention and a short campaign, present some forcible reasons in support of their preference, while those who insist that the Convention should meet at the usual time —on the 22nd of February—argue not less convincingly that nothing is to be gained —0-~. by delay, and that an appearance of hesi- should be to draw men from the taney might be construed as indicating a lack of confidence. We have endeavored to ascertain the views of the most active members of the Republican party, in this city andaicinity, upon this question, and are authorized state that a very large These are times when nothing stirs the majority of them are decidedly in favor of religous nature like an old tune learned having the Convention called for the 22nd of Februarv.

THE best joke of the season is contained in this item from an Eastern paper: "Fernando Wood is shocked at the corruption of the Republican party."

We once listened to an eloquent discourse on "The Beauty of Holiness," prenchcd through the wicket of a cell door, in a penitentiary, by a man who, but

three months before that day, had delib eratclv cut his wife's throat from ear to car that there might be no impediment to his union with a younger and more attractive woman: and we thought, as we listened to that old wretch's exhortation to us to "cut loose from the vanities of this life and take hold on those tilings which make for the soul's eternal peace," that we should never witness a scene that could match that in the sublimity of its impudence. But FKK.VANDO WOOD, with bis talk of "Republican corruption" throws our old convict in the shade, and furnishes a model of insolent audacity that, we arc confident, can never be excelled on thi'side of "the everlasting bonfire.^ jj S «,

IN EX I,.\XI seventy-live are convicted out of every one hundred indicted in New York but twenty-live.—Exchange.

It is doubtless true that in England a vastly greater proportion of criminals— we mean those who have actually committed crimes—are convicted and punished than in New York or any other of the United States, and the reason for this disproportion^ very obvious. In England an impartial system of selecting juries is in vogue, and the Queen (the State* represented by able counsel, while the case is tried before judges who are not dependent on popular clamor, the pleasure of a faction, or any such miserable contingency for the retention of their official heads. Here, all is ditlerent. Juries—in this Stale, for instance—where special venires

are

called, as they are in most criminal trials, are frequently but the creatures of the Sheriff, and that officer is often the tool of the defendant's counsel—provided said defendant has money or influence at his command. The State is represented, almost universally, by a Prosecutor who ranks with the very feeblest material that the bar affords, and trials are had. before judges whose one great interest it is to be popular with the dominant political party, or with the faction that holds the balance of power. Then,the witnesses for the State, get no compensation for their lime, and are subjected to great inconvenience pecuniary loss. I nder tlie.-e circumstances the wonder is not that so many criminals escape conviction, but that so considerable a proportion of them arc convicted. It is useless to rail about (he courts. The trouble lies'behind and bevond them, in the laws. So long as we have haws that render packed juries possible that provide for judges whose interest it is to please a party, clique or faction that cause the State to be represented bv the refuse of the bar, and that offer inducements for witnesses not to appear, in the name of common sense can expect the courts to be other than what they are? Our system is the inevitable result of the laws on which it reHs. The people are supped to make

often and

how anv man

the world.

Satan in the pulpit, a murderer rebu- often heard they lose their influence. I king petty larceny, or a veteran nymph du does us good to remember at time.-? tht i*. ... *1!- .. 1...4 pure roaring about the immodesty ol a school girls short sleeves, would be tolerably consistent compared with the spectacle of FKKNAJJDO WOOD raving at "the corruption of the Republican party!"

Who. then, is toblams for the

existing state

nirf

oices once familiar, but long silent, the voices of parents and earlier companions, but we need also to keep an ear for the children and friends who have come to fill the places of those gone before. We want the old tunes, because they are old and hallowed by a thousand associations, but we also want the new ones which speak the life and emotions of to-day.

As for those tunes in which singers '•plav tag" we cannot see their use, and interludes are an espescial abomination. We pronounce them an inventton of the devil to destroy the effect of thescrvice of song.

As

for operatic airs, if they express proper sentiment or feeling, or arouse either, they are appropriate, and if they do not secure these ends they are not appropriate. While there is no sound sense in giving the theater, the opera and negro minstrelsy all the good music, there is need of caution, good sense and some piety on the part of those attempting to rccover for religious purposes mu-ic thus used.

th

We do not set down the-e things with special reference to matters ".t home, though we confess that the train of thought was partly suggested by the commendable efforts making to improve the music in the jcluirch where the writer of this article usually attends divine service. It is gratifying to add that the efforts arc, in a good degree, successful. If our suggestions shall be of any value to that or any other congregation, and shall tend to awaken public interest in the important subject of church music, their pur pose will be accomplished.

RI:ADERS of the EXPRESS will gratefully concede that we have not wearied them with frequent allusions to the BYROX scandal. The subject has received so much attention that were it, in itself, decent, the public would be bored, but hoine grosslv indecent, it has come to be infinitely disgusting. We deem it prop cr. however, to say that Lady BYRON'S recently published letters to Mrs. LEIGH, after the separation of the former irom her husband, prove conclusively that unless she was very hypocritical, she had not then imagined the "true story of Mrs. STOWK.

THE Ilcbrac National estimates the number of Jews in the world at 6,000,000, of whom 260,000 are in the United States. It is believed that there is considerably over that number in this country. Immigration of Israelites has been large since I860' The census has not yet taken account of these people, but we may look for it in the next report.

SOME Republican papers are reviving the animosities engendered by the Senatorial contest of last year. It will not be found a paying operation. If we cannot go into the approaching campaign a united party, we had better save our time, money and temper by not going in at all.

IT is stated that Erney expresses great *rratitication at the result of his trial. —Journal.

It is a gratification in which no one can share whose moral nature is not warped l,v prejudice or twisted by passion. We have seen no iroxl citizen who docs not rcTCt "the result" ot that trial.

THERE are in British India 19,000 schools, attended by 600,000 native child ren. The yield of cotton in that country

whether vocal or instrumenta QiOTftflOOOO ... That ob- this vear is estimated at $12o,X)U.WU,

enkindling of religious sentiment and emotion. That which reaches either of these ends the best, is the best church music. That which secures these ends with one person, or class, may entirely fail with another. Much of the music which lifts the uneducated negro to the third heavens, would neither kindle nor

WHAT is a Model Training School? Journal. It Ls a "rascally Radical invention" designed to destroy the Democratic party! Your awful suspicions are well founded.

WHAT has become of the radical grave diggger?—Journal. Th# last time we heard of him he was

"euv"" -fnn Th# last time we heard ol mm ne was

sentiraennt

em°

looking for

congregation having agreed to pay him for burying folk. Theorists often fall into mistakes

theory to peo-

HENBEICKS, that gentleman

Death ofGeorge Peabody.

IW UlUUglUD VI Af fasten these thoughts ere they go back to and^a half o'clock on Ihursday night

In reference to old and new music medium coursc should also be pursued.

in childhood in the old home church, or around the hearth at family worship. Holy associations are connected with it, and it opens the ears to voices once heard here but now singing above, and we feel their influence drawing us nearer their Father and ours. But if these are too

A dispatch wli'"h, by accident, was not received in time fur our last issue, brings I he sad intelligence that GEORCIE PI-, A BODY died at his residence in London at eleven

Mr. PEABODY'S life is familiar to the American reader. He is a native of Danvers, Mass., but removed to Baltimore,^Maryland, in early life, where he was for several years a successful business man. Removing to London he became the head of an eminent banking house, and amassed an immense fortune. He is best known on both sides of the Atlantic for his princely gifts for educational and charitable objects. He has expended many millions, and left other millions yet to be expended, for the poor of London, for the education of the youth of the Southern States, for the erection and endowment literary institutes and libraries in Danvers and Baltimore, and for many other beneficent purposes. He was a man of irreproachable character, the highest business capacity and.the purest philanthropy.

Most philanthropists mount some hobby, or cumscribing the influence of the good thev accomplish w.ithin the narrow

philanthropy all-embracing. He recognised the great principle of Universal Brotheinood, and applied to the work of giving away his fortune the same sound, practical c-.ini-nion sense that was displayed in accumulating

it.

Spccic Payment.'-,..'

I'ntil we are again planted ou the solid ba«is of ha.d cash until specie is restored to its legitimate uses, instead of being employed almost exclusively for gambling operations, we cannot feel that we arc near the end of the series of national afflictions upon which we entered when LU'CHANAN'S traitorous and cowardly administration plunged the country into an exhaustive civil war. There is such a vast and incalculable waste to the people in the existing machinery of exchange, by reason of uncertainty, speculative opportunities, and combinations for controlling productions of every description, that nobody sees the least chance of relief, by any kind of manipulation or good luck, save in the return of the country to the basis of specie. It is not that so very much cash is required but it is wanted in circulation, it ought to be felt as the ever controlling standard, it is needed to restore public confidence in the reality of what is going on. The people would be glad to detect symptoms of the improvement in our currency which these requirements suggest. The (h st thing to do, as it occurs to the popular mind, is to reduce taxes through the sure aid of our immense surplus revenue, strengthen public creditso that thedebt may be refunded at a lower rate of interest, and bring up at the same time the value of the paper dollar to the gold standard. That simple process—not complex—will at one and the same time relieve the community in a double way—by lightening the taxes a bringing down prices. There may some pinching in this operation it would indeed be singular if there were not but we are to remember that credits are not generally extended, and that the worst that could happen would come through partial and tenijHutiry stagnation rather than a severe shrinkage such as produces a panic. Of the latter there need lie none at all. Easier taxes and a steady approach to hard money arc no more the parents of thai than is water a irood article lo iduce in'oMcatien. -c *4

Mi

nmfwWr ron6 to

PENDLETON. He has probably gone to Pennsylvania to get PACKER down before that defunct worthy emits "too loud" an odor. It wasn't thought necessary to send him to Tennessee to attend to JOHNSON, as the old fellow is so dried up that he will "keep" without interment.

A LOBBY interest is being developed at Washington to induce the Government to use its influence, if nothing more, to compel the Mexican government to give preference to the bonds negotitated by it in this country during the war against MAXIMILIAN. With this object in view the matter will be brought to the attention of theMexican Claims Commission, and an attempt will be made to include the bonds among the claims of Americans against Mexico.

GRANT, as poor as a church mouse when he was elected, is as rich as Crcesus to-day, besides his pups and pipes.—Journal.

It is well known that GRANT was not "poor as a church mouse," but was in very good circumstances, financially, "when elected." The voluntary offerings of his grateful countrymen, inspired bv their admiration of his ^Jilendid services, together with the pay of General of the United States Army, placed him above want, but did not make him a wealthy man. He vacated the best office within the gift of his government, a position nobly earned, to obey the call of the people to the Presidency. Since he became President his worldly means have not increased, and he will leave the White House possessed of much less property than would have been the case had he declined to accept a position which necessitated the vacation of his military office. All that GRANT possesses is his by the proudest possibly title, the affection of his countrymen, their gratitude to the hero who crushed the Democratic rebellion. As "to his pups," we leave them to the canine instincts of the Democratic press. His "pipes" n:.\y be of service, as he will have frequent occasion to "smoke out" the Deuooracy.

80XC

*3 BT BiBRY COBS WALL

Sing a low song!

A tender cradle measure, soft anil lowNot sad, nor long, But such as we remember long ago,

When time, now old, was nyitig Over the sunny seasons, bright and fleot,And the red rose was lying Amongst a crowd of flowers all too sweet.

Sing o'er the bier! The bell is swinging in the time-worn tower lie's gone who late was here. As fresh as manhood in its lustiest hour.

A song to each brief season, Winter and shining summer doth.bqlong,^^ For some sweet human reason— O'er cradle or the coffiin still a song, jV«j '.t'mjxS

DARK OK FAIR.. ft rfeatttSUfaM

Maiden fair »~n AVith the golden hair— r. Sweet brunette .. With locks of jet,

As you roam side by side i, ."" On the marge of the tide, I know not on which my heart I should set.

The hazel orb Will the heart absorb, f« And the eye of blue Is tender and true

But when both are together S t:J.t1-.. This sunshiny weather, ,v Their powers combined must our pcacc undo.

Beautiful pair,

From crown unto feet -1 In beauty complete, -.j Like the night and the day ,, Together you stray.

Past the pier and the shipping So daintily tripping In your pretty, bewitching, unconscious way.

Maiden fair I would gladly declare My darling—and yet There's the dark-eyed brunette

And I vow on my soul To say which I preferred Is a question with terrible doubt beset.

What shall I do To decide 'twixt the two? So beautiful both That to choose I am loth,

And which was the fairest. The sweetest and rarest I could not declare, were I put ou my oath!

Brunette and fair maid Like sunshine and shade— Each in her sphero Is the loveliest here,

And I own I'm as fond .: Of brunette as of blonde— A shocking confession 1 very much fear.

THE GREAT FLOOD.

A Grandmother's Story.(

From Lippincott's Magazine.] IIow long ago was it? do you ask, little Benny? Sixty-one years, it it was a day. It is June, now: I was seventy-nine the tenth of last April, exactly sixty-one years before. It was my eighteenth birth-day, too: I remember that as well as anything else that happened. For that matter, I remember it all well enough: it's not very likely I shall forget such a time as that was untill the sods cover me. Come here mv knee, Benny, and I'll tell you all abouVit.

The country was new then—not so new that the Indians or the wild animals troubled us much, for there were only a few of the Delawares very near us, and they were so much civilized that they cared for nothing but whisky and a stray wolf or catamount was all that troubled our pigs and chickens. When I say it was a new country, I mean that it was pretty much all woods, with very few settlements, and not many people in them. They were mostly along the banks of this river, for most "every one was lumbering or rafting and that was what brought lather here from Vermont. Mother died away up among the Green Mountains and it always seemed to me as if he couldn't bear the old homestead after that. He grew very restless and uneasy and one dav lie came home early in the afternoon and said to me— "Daughter, I have a chance to sell the place at a bargain. Shall I do it? This hasn't been much like home to me for two months: I think I'm wanting new scenes and new face.s tc blunt the grief I have for her that's left us. Shall we go to Pennsylvania, Bessy I've a plan to go into the lumber trade and mayhap I'll make so much money in a year or two that we'll go to Philadelphia, and you'll be a lady the rest of your dayc- Shall we go, Bess?

Poor father! The dear, kind soul lived and died with the nearest his heart to make me a tine i.e!.

1

TERRE-HAUTE, INDIANA, WEDNESDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 10,1869

ju thank­

ful that he never saw it aeumtpli-hod but he did see me become a :i woman, and, I hope and trust, a goo wile and mother. How that happened, little Ben-

«l nniiaillllioU1»IS mram CVJ1I1V1 ti,,,* nv, is the story that 1 111 telling you now take some peculiar chute, thus cir- "J,

Vrtit9

His philanthropy was not mod­

eled on that of any of his predecessors, and ve fear that he has left no one who will imitate is example. In comparison with the rich men who survive him—the VAXDERIM/rs, the ASTORS, the FISKS, ct id omne tjfui' —*'.(,• towers like the sublime heights of the Alps above the huts of the peasants in the valleys below, llis name will be loved and honored so long as men retain the capacity to appreciate true greatness of soul.

and

that was the time of the grea'

flood. Our little house was Duilt on that high land, out in the middle of the river—a two-storv frame aflair, with two rooms down stairs and two rooms up and, after all, it took all the neighbors to raise the roof. It was an odd notion of father's, putting it there: he used to say that the day would come when he could sellofl valuable water-priviledges all around his acre. That day hasn't come yet, Benny but sometimes, when I think ol poor dear father, and all his plans and schemes for me. and of what has happened, I really think that something like Providence put it into his heart to fancy that queer little corner out therein the river, and to build our house there. I am going to tell yon what I mean right away.

After the little house was built and furnished, I stayed at home and kept it, aud father took to the woods with the loggers, He led a hard enough life from that time out till he died summer and winter he was at work with his men—sometime® at the loggers' camp, then hauling the logs to the river and rafting them down to the bay, where hesold them to the contractors. There were weeks when he wouldn't be at home a day but Sunday but when lie was rafting I often heard his shout on theriver, and could see him waving his hat from the raft as it went slowly down the stream with the current. I hope I was a good daughter in those days: I tried my best to do all that I could for him. I kept the house neat and tidy, and mended his clothes and regularly once a day I cooked a great mess, which was taken up hot to the loggers' camp in a great tin pail that was got from the city.

I was lonesome-like often enough, for there were whole days that I did not see a human being to exchange a word with, but Ben Sample, who 'most always came for the dinner. Heiglio' It's long enough ago that I'm telling you of and handsome Ben Sample was then harbly twenty-one. I don't know, my boy, but the lads are as handsome and sprightly, and as good now a« they were threescore vear? ago: if 1 say not, it may be because I see them through an old woman's eye's and that I can't see the chai .u that I could once. However that is, I know I never saw so fine a lad, every way, a? that one was. was not over tall, nor vet short he w-rts of middling height, with broad shoulders and big hands, and was as strong as any two of the men—so father said. He had" curly chestnut hair, and red and white cheeks, like a girl, though sunburnt and his eyes were great blue ones, and his teeth shone so when he laughed [and that was often] that anybody would have liked hiin. And then lie was so honest and so clever, and so kind and obliging, that before I had seen him many times I came to like him right well and one day I happened to say to father that I thought Pen Sample was an excellent lad, and that I wished I could have more of hi* company. never saw father look

ne saiu, very uuiui auu HUMUUM.

r.

rlielingered

Our bosom spare! .V The moon and the sun Shine nevdr as one,

Andwhyshonld you two Both rise on our view ..,.... When either alone had our worship won.

one day over the great

The river had been rising slowly for a week before it, and there had been much rain with us. We heard reports of tremendous rains in the mountains two hundred miles north of us, which lasted for days and the river continued to rise steadily and slowly, though up to that day it was not over the stepping-stones across the neck. 'On the morning of the tenth the rain camcdown at first steadily, and Mr. Cardie thought he would not leave the house. Father went over to the camp after breakfast, saying that he would return, as usual, toward night and so we two spent the day alone together. I tried to talk with him and to interest him, but he was restive and uneasy, and half the time was idly turning over leaves or drumming with his fingers on the windowpanes. It was about the middle of the afternoon, when I was wondering what I should do next (and thinking a little of poor Ben Sample, I believe)' that Mr. Cardie turned short around to me from the window and said very abruptly, "I'm going back to the city to-morrow Bessv. I want to know if I can come back here in three months—that'll be the middle of Julv—and make vou my wife?

snare"

wind

^I

thcrfe

Look trom the north window, there, boy: I'd come and look with you, but my hcumatism is bad to-day. No matter.

ttiev aceompnsii iim.n. rneumausiu is uau. I never thought of myself or of my own limits of some particular class. But the Do you see that long point of land, a mile feelings: I put all thoughts of Ben out of ,. Ptirnnv was up stream, that run out into the river? my head, remember phil:uithi*op of CtLOKGi- IEAB0D\ 4.s

again.

yfe\\—look a little closer at it. "Yn*"—nothing mo

Farthest from the shore it spreads out in to an acre of good, high land, but then ar row neck that join? that to the shore is commonly almost as low as the bed of the stream. There arc great high steppingstones across it now, that father laid there when we first came and we used to walk drvshod over them when the spring rains had raised the river. I remember but one solitary time when the wa'er covered the stepping-stones as well a* the neck of land

That was awkward news for me. had never thought of staying in that lonely place without father and it was little consolation to think of Mr. Cardie as a protector. Just as I had a question on mv tongue. Ben spoke again. 'You don't know how fast the river is rising," lie said. "Out on the stones the water is almost up to the tops oi my boots, and seems to be rising higher." "Do vou think there is any danger in staying "here to-night?" I asked, in some alarm. ,, "Maybe not," he answered, doubtfully 'but I'never knew the rivdV to be so high before." "Ben, Ben, what shall I do? I took no thought at all of Mr Cardie, and felt no safetv except from the presence of Ben. ""Didn't father send any other word?" 'None at all."

-jWMt

stern all of a sudden, as he did then and ashes, and he never noticed me but looked all round the room

I never heard him speak so stern, either.

"Better leave him in his place, Bessy," father's chamber. 'Where he said, very quick and sharplike. "He's Cardie. he asked. I had

1 1 ..11 Utroiffnr*o* h# han I

be tender with h, daughter,

naught but a poor lumberman, after all, that he was gone: he had been standing (It, and he's not likely to be aught else. Don't by the window just before Ben went out if/T' he tender with him dausrhter: I bid you the last time. thought it, Ben cried,

I

And won't you stay?" After what has happenad, Bessy? I shouldn't think you'd wish it." Then he must have seen how grieved and sorry I looked, and how alarmed I felt, for lie added, right away, "Yes, I will stay, Bessv, i/yoti wish it, though I trust and believe there's no danger."

I thanked him with a look, and before I could fay anything more, Mr. Cardie spoke. "Do von think there is any danger of the river unsettling the house?" he asked.

It surelv will if it rise*- high enough," Ben replied. "Hark! hear that!" Generally, when the door was open, we could hear a feint ripple of the current, but it now had a hoarse, loud sound that was new to me. Ben looked dubious as he heard it. "I dont like that," he said. "Let me go out and see."

He was not gone three minutes, and he came back with his face full of trouble. •'The water is within twenty feet of the doar," he said. "I don't suppose I could wade from here to the bank. We must leave here at once, and when you're safe, I'll come back and save some of the things. Tf the water gains like this, all this floor will be under in an hour." lie went out again: I knew what for. The west foundation-wall of the house was next the river, and father always kept a skiff tied there. I understood, from what Ben said, that he meant to bring the skiff round to the front and take us to the shore. 1 was putting on my hood :uid-haivl when he came back. Hi« face was as pale as

bid you the last time

not Tf vmi'vp fJlt inv toft kind to him, and his face looked half sorry,

Poor Ben! There had been no talk of then followed him to the door and looked love between us-before this morning, and out with him. It was almost nsght, but do not know that I had thought of him what there was of daylight left showed at alias a lover but bv and by, after a us a mad white-papped torrentof water few weeks more, when I had tried hard to rushing through the channel between us obey my father's command and treat him coldly,

tin pail long enough to press my hand and whisper bashfully to hie, "Dear Bessy!" 1 snatched my hand away and looked hard at him, and" told him that he must never say nor do that again. He left me looking as grieved as I ever saw another mor- & tal look and when he was gone I went out thaw up the mountains, that had mel to the log-seat by the river and cried as ted the -snow in the gorges and--poured though mv heart would break. I did not hundreds of new streams into the rn er know mv feelings till then, but if Ben all at once. looked a moment, and Sample "could have seen pie. that half then came back into the room. I was hour! fraid, I suppose but not so much so as

You'll want to know what kind of a man he was, boy. He was pale and slender, handsome enough for those that like such beauty as that in men and rather foppish with his diamond ring and his silky moustaclic. He was very polite, too, o,nd he would talk and chatter as. city folks can but I never thought there was much heart cr good-feeleng in anything he said or did. Yet he seemed to like me from the first and poor father whispered to me ten times, if he did once, Play thy cards sorewdly, Bessy, aud thou'lt catch him! He'll make thee a lady, girl, and a rich one!" And stranger things have happened, I know, than my marrying him would have been: surely, affairs were rapidly drifting toward it and I had almost succeeded in crushing the thought of Ben Sample out of my heart, and in playing the part that my father wished me to play to young Mr. Cardie (for I never could have persuaded myself to love him), when that fateful tenth of April came that brought my eighteenth birth-dav and the Great Flood together.

that fellow

noticed

,.

"I

naif

not. 11 you \e lelt any too kina IO hannened? house afloat, he took Ben bv the hand, A destructive prairie tire occurred you must check it in" time. Have little "Bessy, do you know what has happened to sav to him, daughter it's vour father's Theskif isgoris, and that man with it. wish1'' I looked, terrihed, into .s face, an_

into it—and roaring and whirling in way that was fearful to see. The ram had ceased, and I didn't then see how it could be that the river could rise so

was

all

Ben did not come with the great pail thought at first. Somehow I "felt a after th another man took his place and sense of security with_ Ben^ Sample^ there

things went on in the old lonely way all the rest of the winter and through the spring. It was in the first week in March, I think, of that year that father brought young Mr, Cardie to the house. Youn* Mr. Cardie was the only son of Jacob Cardie, the Millionaire, who lived in Philadelphia, and whu was contracting with father for all of his logs for years to come. The old man meant that young Jacob should succeed him in business in a few months and he thought it would be an excellent thing to send him up into the loggers' country for a while, to get him acquainted with the different kinds of lumber, and the processes of cutting it and getting it to market. Father thought it would be a good thing for liimselfto entertain him at the house while he remained and so, for the next five weeks, they were regularly at home morning and_ night, sleeping in the house and spending the day in the woods or on the river. But it wasn't hard to see that young Mr. Cardie grew tired of this very soon and presently he began to come back to the house in the middle of the day,_ and fish or shoot in the neighborhood until night.

owing

that robbed the situation of all the terrors it would have had without him. I. hardly thought of Jacob Cardie, and how mean and heartless he was to abondon us so and deprive us of the .means of safety, when Ben wanted to save us all together. "Ben will save me," was all. I could think of and I suppose I repeated the words to myself a hundred times. Once I must have spoken them aloud for he said, "I will, Bessy—God willing. I will prav for strength that I may."

He knelt there on the floor and prayed, and I knelt beside him and took one of his hands in both of mine. When we arose we heard the first low washing of the water against the east side of the house, mingled with the louder rushing and brawling ofthe torrent beyond. When it grew so dark that I could not see Ben's face, I lit a candle and we sat there together in silence, I holding his hand My heart was trib lull for speech, and Ben. said nothing but a word of comfort now and then. "There's nothing for us to do but to stay here and hope for the best," he told me once. And then he added, While there's a hope, and when there's none, Til not leave you, Bessy."

Dear, noble Ben! I wanted to throw myself on his breast and tell liim my secret, but something prevented me—I don't know what—and I only pressed the hand that I held.

There was no slackening to theriver: it rose higher and higher every moment, and by ten o'clock the water was over the iloor where we stood. Ben had carried the trunks, and the things I thought most of, up stairs and we then took to the second story. Here we stayed for two hours more, I listening all the time for the sound of oars or voice?, for I hoped that father would come and take us off. Midnight came and I grew impatient, and complainingly asked Ben if he could tell why father did not come and rescue us. "I'm afraid I can, Bessy," he answered with a grave face. "The great raft went down the river two: hours ago: 1 heard the voices of the men shouting, and I don't doubt your father is carried away with the rest. But don't be afraid: they're all safe, I hope, and they'll get to shore when morning comes."

I couldn't help crying when he told me that, and I nestled up to him as if 1 had been a child, and he put his strong arm around me. It was not long after this that we felt the house settling and tipping, and not much longer when it careened half-wav over, and was whirled away into the river by the torrent that had' been undermining the foundations. That was an awful hour, my lad! Ben held one arm around me, and with the other hand grasped the window-sill, while he braced his feel in the corner of the room and the rising and falling of the poor wreck under us, as the heady current swept us along, gave me at first the feeling that we were going straight to the bottom. The wind moaned outside, the water beat against the planks, and the beams cracked and gaped as though the poor old house was all falling apart. Long before daylight we both saw that it was settling down deeper and deeper into the water, which rose over the upper floor and when Ben had succeeded in knocking out the scuttle, he dragged me out on the roof—how, I dont know. I only know that lie did it, and that but for him my drowned body would have floated there in tha old wrecked house when

I looked straight "at him, and said not a word, but oh, my bov. bow I did think of.. jjen' the morning came. "I'm rich enough for both, of us, and to And I don't know much about how the

he went on: "and you're everything rest of that-dreadful night parsed. Ben that 'l want in a wife. You know you're sat UD on the ridge-pole, and held me on handsome, Bessy, and I suppose you are good. Will you' marry me when I come

membercd my father, and said

Yes"—nothing more. I dont know whether Mr. Cardie would have kissed me or not he had no chance for hardly had I spoken that word when there was a knock at the door, and I opened it to admit Bnn Sample himself! ^Ve were all three of us rather ill at ease for a moment. Mr. Cardie knew Ben, I suppose, and must have heard something about his old feelings for me, for lie stepped back to the window and fro^nodj neavcr speaking or nodding to Ben, who stood there with his hat twirling in his hands, awkward and abashed. He only found his tongue when I asked him to sit down, and then said. "Nay, I can't stop. I only came to bring vour father's message that he won't be home to-night. The rise in the river has broken loose the great raft up at Logan's Ford, that was to have been floated down to-morrow, and he's gone up with all hands to moor it He can't be here tonight."

sat up on the ridge-pole, and held me on by main strength and in the cold and the darkness 1 believe I slept: certainly I forgot where I was for a long time, and forgot I was cold too. But then I didn't know, until I woke up at broad daylight, that Ben had taken his coat off and put it around my shoulders. The house had sunk so low that one of the eaves .was tipped clear out of water, and the other was three feet under. We were drifting slowly down the centre of the stream: the shore was almost a mile off on either side, and there was not a sail nor a sign of help in sight. 1 looked at Ben, perfectly li peless and calm in my despair, and he looked back with hope and courage. '"There's one hope yet, Bessy,' he said, cheerily and his"finger pointed to an object floating ten rods behind us—an object 'the sight of-whieh. filled my heart with gratitude to God, that he had heard and had thus answered our prayers. It was mv father's skiff, with the oars lying in the bottom of it, following along in our track a- if to save us from destruction! I understood at once how it was Jacob Cardie had drawn it up on the shore after deserting us, and the ri-e of the flood had carried it out and falling into the strong current of the neck, which set toward the middle of the stream, it had followed us all night. Ben looked wistfully at it, and measured with his eye the distance to it. The roof to which we clung Was alternately sinking and swaying, and the water sucked and eddied ominously around it. "This old thing can't swim many moments longer," he said. "Can you hold on here alone, Bessy, while I swim out to the skiff and bring it to you?" He did not wait for me to reply, but lifted me to the place where he had sat, and showed me how to grasp the bare, rafter, where the boards had been strained oS'. When he had done this, he stopped, just as he was going to let himself ofl into the water, and looking at me with a tender, motrnful look that I can never forget—no, not if I should live to be twice fourscore—he said, "You'll be safe in ten minutes, I hope: may God spare me, for your sake!

Yet if anything should happen to either of us, that we shouldn't meet again in this world, I must tell you now, Bessy, that nobody has loved you as 1 have—that nobody loves you now as I do. Believe mi-, dear for, it is true."

I know it, Ben —I know itI sobbed and I put up my face to his. He bent over and kissed me, wiih such a look of mighty surprise and overwhelming joy as 1 don't believe any man ever had before and crying out, "Hold hard, Bessy—hold

fast,

girl!' he jumped into the river and struck out for the skiff. I did not tell him when he left me that my hands were cold, almost numb a-d.1 held tight to the rafter and watched him while the pain in my poor hands and arms was distressing me sorely. I saw him reach the skiff, and balance himself and labor carefully over its side to get in without overturning it and when he had accomplished this my strength was almost gone. My hands were giving, slipping I made one last spasmodic effort to retain my hold, and shouted wildly to Ben. I lieary the plash of oars, and his loud,cheery, voice encourageing me darkness over­

1 yivv Miwtu UQV••••• took me as my hands slipped their grasp. Clutching at "the shingles, I slid downward, down, but not to my watery grave. The skiff shot past me. Ben Sample's arm snatched me from my peril, and I lay safely in the loitom of the boat, while his stout arms rowed me toward the shore. "Look there!" he exclaimed and I looked my last at the poor old house. The roof heaved and settled, the waters washed up. over it, and it sank in a wild whirlpool, that sucked it down.

That was the last of our danger. We got to the shore and- found a house

and before night we had a chance to take

a cchooner up the river.

two father came up with most of his men

and such a meeting as we had! The raft

had been carried off by the flood, as Ben

thought, and two of the men had perished by drowning. And 'when I told

thought it/' Be*i cried, kheJ by drowning. And 'when

I

ne through the* channel between us slap of his hand on his knee. "Plague the day, and the train being a heavy one, and the shore—so near to us that we take me! what a fool I would be, some- the engine threw out more sparks than could have stepped off the lower step times, if I had my own way?" usual, that were blown out the grass „„.7 .. As for Jacob Cardie, I never heard a all along the line, setting it on hre pretty svllable more of him. I never wanted -nearv the whole length of the road. As to I am not sorry that 1 met him, for a consequence, all the prairie between this he served to show me the difference be- city and Leavenworth is burned over.

COlliCl 06 mat Ulc ri»6r COUIU. riatj SU) lie Scr\CU to Sllv« mc mv uiuwv but I unterstood it afterward, when they tween Ben Sample and the little creatures are unable to obtain a full report told me that it

to a sudden the world of fashion and wealth calls of the damage, but it is estimated that i--j mnnv tnniis»nn nmlnr wnrth of nroner-

men. Welladay! It's many a long year since then it's many a long year that I lived as the happy wife of that same Ben Sample and it's not many since God took him home before me. How old are you, little Benny? Nine, indeed! Then he died just nine years ago: you were named for him, boy, for vou were born the morning that he died. He was your own grandfather, little Ben and I can give you no better wish than that you may be as brave, as strong and as good a man as was he.

W!"F-*'«T!,JA3N3G FRANKLIN rrm. -f VARIETIES.

The rightful hair—JVoUlie chignon.

The thing that went to pot was a potato. t.'i one dies at

Life is a disease of which last. A well-spent life—The fast man's at forty. -t :J!I

A light employment—Cleaning' windows. "Comfortable cofiiins" are advertised in Boston.

The flower of the (Romish) flock—Hyasinthe. When is a toper's nose not a nose? When it is a little reddish.

A riding habit—Going up and down in the cars every day. When the cat is away, the cook finds it difficult to explain how the cold meat goes.

Dr. Beecher says he "knows not what Eve felt in leaving Paradise." She felt ashamed. "Measures, not men" is a good maxim in politics, but in potatoes both are equally necessary.

What enormous legs firemen must have, as we often hear of their using hone fifty feet in length.

Many of the police seem to regard the public as so many bottles of medicine, "To be shaken before taken."

Pleasant—To open your wife's jewelbox, and discover a strange gentleman's hair done up as a keepsake.

Whv are washerwomen great travelers? Because they are continually crossing the line, and running from pole to pole.

A German in New York literally "gave his blood" for his dying wife. It was injected into her vains and she recovered.

People are sometimes said to be knocked "into the middle of next week." May we ask the precise distance by measurement?

Womanliness in a man' is not a whit better than manliness in a woman. Either is a most excellent virtue put into the wrong place.

The darkest scene we ever saw was a darkey in a dark collar, with an extinguished candle, looking for a black cat that wasn't there.

If you study to make yourself agrccaIfvou study to make yourself agrcea-

ble rather than handsome, you will nave

the satisfaction of getting more into your

head than on your back. A Worcester justice fined a fellow $20 for beating a goat with a brick to induce the animal to stand quiet when milked. He appealed, because it was "more than the boilierin goat was worth.'\ j.#.

The odor of some matches" when' first struck is bv no means pleasant and there are otliers'tbat after a long time incline in the same unhcwitching direction.

The last society spoken of in California is the "Pay-Nothing."

It is said to be

alarminglv prosperous. The pass-word is "Lend" us a dollar the response, "Broke!"

The man who got such a charity reputa^ tion for "carrying his heart is his hand," tourns out to be a confectioner who ped

tourns out

t0 be a

v.,

A gentleman taking an a'piirt'iiVenl/'said

to

the landlady, "I assure you, madam, 1 never left a lodging but my landlady shed tears." She answered, I hope it was not, sir, because vou went away without paying."

A colored cook, expecting company of her own kind was at a loss liow to entertain her friends. Her mistress said "Polly, you must -make an apology." "La, Missis, how can I make it? Got no apple5, no eggs, no butter, no imffinAo makeitwid." "Whv, dear me, Mr. Longswallow," said a good old lady, "how can you drink a whole quart of that hard eidar at a single draught?" As soon as the man could breathe again he replied: "I beg pardon, madam, but upon my soul it was so hard I couldn't bite it off."

The manager of a country theatre, peeping through the curtains between the acts, was surprised by a glimpse of the empty benches. "Why, good gracious!" said he, to the prompter, "where is the audience?" "He just stepped out to get a mug of beer," was the brief reply.

An army surgeon, a reputed lover ofthe knife arid "saw, who had just hacked and hewed a patient to his heart's content, was asked by an attendant who stood eyeing the two

pieces

Recently some threshers in Wright county, Iowa, while preparing the ground for their work, found over one hundred rattlesnakes on a space of less than three rods square. They varied in size from three to ten inches long.

A son of Chester Tilden, ofWillimantic Connecticut, aged about thirteen years, met with a sad accident a few days since, resulting from the discharge of a toy gun with which, he was playing at the time. The arrow was poitffod' with a needle, which entered his eye, destroying the liight instanily. The physician fears that he mav also lose the other eve.....

{PAYABLE IN ADVANCE

THE PRAIRIE FIRE FIEND. ———

From Lawrence to Leavenworth— Great Destruction of Property. ———

told

mad. him the true story or our night in tne

From the Lawrence (Kansas) Tribune.]

ftouse anoat, ne IOOK uen UY ME MUM, I-— with tears in his eves, and begged his par- terdav on the line of the Leavenworth don for thinking' that anybody could be branch of the Kansas Pacific Railway, better than such a brave, nobie fellow as that caused great danger over a large he had proved himself. *col° of country. It originated from the \nd especially that cowardly sneak, sparks dropped by the engine of the

Cardie," father added, with a savage train. The wind was rather brisk during

freight

many thousand dollar's worth of property is destroyed. Mr. Jewett, residing near Reno, lost twenty tuns of hay and five hundred rails, and also a fine tract of young timber on his farm was destroyed. Mr. C. J. Buckingham, residing in the same vicinity, also lost twenty tuns of hay —all he had—and some other property. Some of the sufferers, we are informed, have intimated an intention of bringing suit against the the railooad company for damages. How can they do it with any

How they can do it with any

hopes of success is not at all plain. The company have the right to run engines on the road, and it is an impossibility to prevent sparks from flying. It looks very much as if the farmers themselves were criminally negligent and careless.

Living as long as they have on the railroad, they could not well help knowing that as soon as the grass became dry they were in constant danger of being burned out, by means of the sparks from passing engines. It would have been an easy matter to have adopted the proper precautions in time. In the few years past we have had hundreds of instances of heavy losses by prairie fires to record, and, nine times out of ten, they were due solely to the negligence of the sufferers. We have warned the farmers time and again to burn around their farms in proper season, or adopt other precautions, but without avail. They learn best by experience. It is to be hoped that after property to the amount of fifty or a hundred thousand dollars has been destroyed, some few will take the hint, without waiting to learn in the popular but expensive school. ———<>———

POLYGAMY. ———

How Mormons View the Doctrine— The woman Distinguished. ———

A correspondent of the New York <World>, writing from Salt Lake, says: Polygamy is not general among the Mormons. I do not think, after much inquiry, that more than one in fifteen of the Mormon men, who are married, have more than one wife. Perhaps half of them secretly condemn polygamy though to any "Gentile" they will argue in its favor. The two sons of the prophet Joseph Smith are preaching against polygamy, and are making many converts throughout the Territory. They are vigorous, intellectual men, and make all their converts ardent admirers of themselves. The Mormons are an earnest people. Their church has been built by persecution, and untold privations and hardships have made their leaders fearless. The story df their persecutions is recited weekly at the Tabernacle and in almost every church in the Territory.

The leaders of 1847 and 1848 are seated behind the alters [sic], and their gray hairs everywhere command the respect due to heroes. They young are called upon to emulate their example, and often seem sorry that they had not lived in those days, so they, too, could have endured suffering for the church. Persecution will find the Mormon people to-day as ready to suffer martyrdom, if there is any opportunity, as any of the people of history have heretofore been.

These people, from their origin and habits of life, are entirely matter of fact, cold and stolid in feelings and manners. There is no conception of the ludicrous, no appreciation of humor, and that droll comprehensiveness of expression so prevalent elsewhere in the West is not to be found among the saints. The women are disgusted with the doctrine of plurality of wives, and polygamy must be surrendered by the church or the church must go down with polygamy. But one thing can save it and that is an attempt by force to abolish it, which may drive the Mormons from Utah, but which will perpetuate for a few more decades an institution that must die so soon as it is approached by civilization. ———<>———

co

jj

an( sto ttheir

ners

and safe

of mortality just depos­

ited upon the table, "Well, sir which piece Lstobe put tobed, and which buried?" "Shut vour eyes and listen init me," said Uncle Van Hevde. "Veil, the first night I opens store I count de moneys, and finds him nix right. I counts him, and dere be three dollar gone, and vot does yer tink I does then?" "lean not say." "Yy, I did not count him onv more, and he come out sliust right ever since."

]lcjr feelings and man

There is no conception of the ludi

The Best Woman in the World. I think old women—I don't quite like the word "lady," because it don't mean anvthing now a days—are the most beautiful and lovable" things in the world.

J10 Thev are so near Heaven that they catch

dies Ins own ares. Same days lie carries wl.irli radiate great many hearts. Josh Billings says "I will state for the information of those who haven't had a chance tew lay in their vermin wisdom az freelv az hav, that one single hornet, who feels well, bill brake up a large campmeeting." "Mamma, what are paniers?" "Baskets worn on the donkeys, my dear." "Then, mamma, Sarah must ka donkey for she told Jane she would wear a panier next Snnday inU* .••

the glow and the brightness which radiate from the pearly gates and illuminate their faces. When the hair begins to stiver, and the embers the lire grow gray and cold, and the sun has got so far around in life's horizon that the present makes no shadow, while the past stretches down the hillside to a little mound of earth, where

we will rest for a sea-on—a little mound

tlip lucks of not big enough to hold our corner lots, the. oackb 01

s, which we shall have to leave

on the other side of the hill, but big enough, I trust,

to

hold our memories, and

fancies, our air castles nnd secrets and when the journey is nearly done, and the night is setting in, and the darkness begins to gather around us without any stars, and the birds sing low in the trees, and the flowers wither and die, and the mnsic we hear comes from afar, strangely sweet, like sounds cuining over the_ water, and like little children we live in ourselves' and the world gradually recedes from us—then I should like to be an old woman, full of blessed memories and peaceful anticipations. 1 think I know the best woman in (he world, and 1 think every other man knows her. 1 think theone I know has the kindest heart, aud the dearest face, and the most caressiug hand, and the most tinriving devotion among all women. Her eyes were the first things I ever looked into and pray Heaven they may also be the last 1 shall look into.' And 1 think the best woman every other man knows has all these qualities, in the same degree. And I think there is not one of us who has straved so far from that woman—the best of all women—not one of us so cal loused with the strife and toil of life, not one of us in the mid.-t of diffienlty and danger, who does not feell the invisible arms around him to shield him, and who dcn not lon8 to go back to the arms and the love of that woman, and to rest, as we res'e*l before our feet got into the flinty road-, upon the breast of our MOTHT:R.

MASSACHUSETTS.

THE EJECTION. J, ,, ,25

SPKixtiFiELP, MASS., NOV. 4.—"Returns from 285 towns show the following results:

Claflin, Republican, 70,122, Adams, Democrat, 48,792, Chamberlain, Labor Reform. 12,80(5. Plurality for C'laliin 21-, 330. Majority for Claflin 84G4. The Senate will 'contain 30 Republicans, 9 Democrats, 1 Labor Reform. The Home 123 Republicans, o'J Democrats, 21 Labor Reform. Seven representative districts remain to be heard from.

A little Swede boy is begging in the vicinity of Anoka, Minn. "The noticeable thing is not in the begging, but in the deformity of one of his arms, it being only about "three inches long below the elbow, and having minute fingers on the side of the arm. It is a congenital freak of nature"

I^OUISVIIil^E.

KKSPBT

Hints to housekeepers.

a

A JOROTON. i""

Pour into .diflht 7111

little

•sonp unskimmed.

Million,

Add parsley.

tarragon. ,. chervil tuil chopped

cucumber mettles yitoPJPF salt and cover'*^«ffifine shces. of boiled beef strew the

same

sepoMng

over

the

beef, cover the diah, let it. jeethe on the fire for half

an

hwr

..*nd serve.

BOttED BEEF tiDKE A JIATEL£TTE. Fry little oniomin butter at argentic fire then add a spoonful of flour and stir then pour in a goblet of claret, halt a glass of soup, some mushrooms if you have them, salt, pepper and a few pot ., herbs. When this ragout is cooked turn it on to slices of boiled beef arranged on a dish.

POOR MAW'S BEEF.

Strew over slices irf boiled beef, arranged on a dish, paruey, scauion and a small

quamty^gf

garlic,

chopped together moistened ^Mh a little soup or water cover with tBie bread crumbs, place on hot ashes for TteVjuarter of an hour and serve.

BOILED BEEF FROM SOUP.

A beef taken from soup may be utilized in various ways. The best way to employ boiled beef is to cut it, cold, into ...... slices of extreme thinness, dressed wm* buttered toast, or .else to eat it as a salad, .1 IIRIDT NLNNTR AF

VUKOTS AMD ONIOXS.

Cut into thin slices some carrots and third the bulk of onions, and fry them in the pan, with a good lump of butter or dripping, taking care tliat they do not adhere to the bottom season with salt and pepper, and when they have coiored dredge flour over them, moisted with soup or with soup mixed with milk set the pan. over the fire and let them finislr cooking at the moment of serving mix in yolk of egg and a little vinegar, and seasoned 35 with parsley chopped very fine. .,i

PASTRY FOE HOT ORCOL.D FATES.

With half a pound of flour, a good pinch of salt, three yolks of eggs, three-quarters of a goblet of—wine and a half a quarter pound of lard, make a rather firm paste, cover it with a linen cloth and let it be for eight or ten minntes. After this timeroll it out with a roller, then spread over it a quarter a pound of butter fold the paste double and roll again and repeat five .. times. The paste is now lit for u^e.

POTATO PUDDING.

i^Cook in water two quarts and a half of fine potatoes and mash them through afine colander. Mix them then with a quarter pound of melted butter and the same

Put over the fire in a saucepan a half ...... pint of water or milk, with a pinch ot salt, -. an ounce of butter, the same quantity of powdered sugar and some grated lemon peel. When the liquid begins to boil draw off the saucepan, stirring briskly „a with a wooden spoon, incorporate more "... than a quarter of a pound of flour, enough. to form a thick paste set on the*fire, still stirring, and after four or five minutes take it ofl'finally. Now break an egg into the paste and stir until completely incorporated, break a second, proccding in like manner then a third, thon a lourth egg or use a part of the latter, according to the--)-consistency of the paste. This should be.

A TERRIBLE CRIME FRUSTRATED.

Fiendish Attempt to Poison the In-

quantity of powdered sugar. hen tho mixture is thorough add six eggs beaten as if for an omelette, a glass cf brandy ,» and a pound of Zante currants. Mix again, turn the whole into a cloth, tie it ... that the pudding may not escape. Put -. it to cook in

boiling

water, boil for a quar- T.

ter of an hour, take it out of the cloth. Set it on a dish, and serve it bathed^ in sauce made of a glass of wine in which sugar and melted butter have been ming-. 1 ""V"

WiaORANGE

JELLEY.

The basis of jelly of orange is really .. apple-jelly, which, having little perfume of its own, is an excellent vehicle for whatever you may desire to introduce into it. The apples being peeled with a silver-blade knife, put tnem to cook in water enough to cover them, in which the juice of a lemon has been mixed. When they commence to break, turn them into a horse-chair seive, and let them drain without pressing. "W ith the juice which has passed mix an equal weight of good sugar and boil. When the jelly Ls cooked, throw in orange peel cut into bits, and after boiling up once or twice from the fire, and when the juice has settled down, take out the peel witli^a,,.skimmer and turn the jelly into1, jars. ,Tf1'L'FFKD FRITTERS.

4

solid that," in'taking up a spoonful and letting it fall back, it should neither scatter nor adhere to the spoon. After these ... preperations, dredge lightly the pic-b(,ard spread out the paste on it and dredge the paste cut in equal parts, roll into balls J, and fry. When the fritters arc in theVsf pan stir them with a ladle, and increaethe fire gradually until thev have taken afine color, then arrange them in a heap, VT sprinkle with powdered sugar and serve. It is desirable to drop them all in the frv^ at once: you may arrange them on pieces tv, of buttered pepper, draw the pan partly off from the fire and put in tho paper.* Adding a little orange llower to the paste is good. 4 „3i ^3- •..»« V«-4}'

mates of a House of Ill-Fame—Have We a Lucretia Borgia Among Us? ——— From the Omaha Herald.] One of the most terrible crimes that ever stained the calendar of guilt was attempted in this city on Tuesday evening, and but for the apparent interposition of Divine Providence, would undoubtedly have sent to the other world, with all their crimes and sins upon their souls, whole household of fallen women.

Hattie Cloud is the proprietress of a palace of infamy, located on Ninth street, near Douglas—a brown brick structure, whose outward appearance is fair to look upon, but whose interior is more horrible than a charnel house filled with deadmen's bones. It is the homes of the wanton. It is a house whose every echo is a curse. It is a habitation whose walls are reeking with the filth and slime of polluted associations. It is inhabited by creatures of fair exterior, but who are rotten to the core, and to come in contact with whom would be fatal as the viper's sting or the leper's touch.

On Tuesday night Hattie Cloud, in her harlot home, was surrounded by the gilded butterflies who flutter away a brief existence of dishonor and shame. Wine flowed freely; the painted beauties revelved in the excesses of their unnatural and unholy calling; the devotees of lust and dissipation seemed to take unusual delight in their carnival of debauchery vulgar jests, lascivious glances, actions to desribe which would be infamous—these were the transactions which were taking place in that "whited sepulchre" in this Christian city of Omaha at the time of which we write.

There was a sudden cessation of mirth and jollity. Faces which had been fushed [sic] with wine and excitement suddenly blanched with ashen pallor and blank dismay. "I am poisoned!" shouted the beautiful queen of the household, and the cry was quickly caught up by the remainder of the group.

They were all seized with terror in the place of that conviviality which had but a moment before made the halls resound with merry mirth and peals of laughter, there ensued a solemnity which, when the surrounding are considered was awful. The wine had, indeed, been poisened [sic], and all

and

EX-«6V-

•ro THE MEMORY OF ERNOR WICKL.IFFE.

LOUISVII.I.E, Nov. 4.—The remains of Ex-Governor Charles A. Wicklifle, of Kentucky, reached here this morning and left at 3 o'clock p. m., for Bardstown. In rcqH-ct to his memory the courts were adjourned, and the members of the bar passed ihe usual resolutions of regret and sympathy.

Woolen Mill Burned. 's-'

J?nA.\TFOIU, ONT. Nov. 4.—Ellis' Woolen Mill was burned last night. Loss $100,000. Insured S10.000

and a girl named Lizzie Taylor were the most seriously affected, and it was thought for a time that the latter would not survive. She lingered, apparently on the threshold of eternity, during the whole night, suffering great agony but in the morning a good constitution and more tha usual vitality of temperament asserted their supremacy, and the physician pronounced her out of danger.

had partaken of the subtle drug. A physician was immediately summoned, and it was ascertained that a large quantity of laudanum had been mixed with the wine. Emetics were immediately administered, and by this prompt action the lives of the unfortunate victims of a base and villainous attempt to murder the inmates of the establishment were saved. Hattie Cloud

IIow the wine became poisoned is not known. All were

more or less affected, and it is not thought that any one of the party administered the laudanum. Whoever it may have been—whether man or woman—it

•Book-keeping

was an infamous crime, and, if it should be detected, will unquestionably meet with the punishment which its enormity deserves. The matter is now in the hands of the authorities. ———<<>———

taught in one ledson-

Pon't lend them.