Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Volume 7, Number 35, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 24 February 1876 — Page 2

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(gazette.

limrtditj, Feb. 24, 1876.

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BEE KEEPING.

THE EXPLORER SEE3 IIOW THE BUSY BEE IMPROVES EACH SHINING HOUR.

He Takes a Peep at One of the Most Intern ing Pursuits in the World.

In the last SATURSAY GAZISTTB the explorer gave an account ot the manufacture of a certain yellow-tinted liquid.

This

week he will give a sketch

of the origin of another yellow-tinteo liquid. Hut whisky gets Its color lrom the scorched oaken heads ot the barrels* wUilo I ho article that he has jor his subject this time is no artificial liquid fire, but the bright young blood of the summer flower, the pure juice ot the rosy petal, the pure nectar of nature, gathered and stored by Nature busiest and moat provident workmen, the bee.

THE BEE FARM.

On arriving at the handsome resi donee of Mr. Theodore Hulman, Sr., at Sixth Avenue and Thirteenth street, and introducing bimseir to tho gonial proprietor and hia hospitable) Wiethe explorer was informed that he had come at a very bad season for boos, as they are now "out" to all visitors, or rather "in:" for in winter bees are serai-torpid in their hives. Of this the explorer was in a manner aware, and hardlv expected more than a glimpse at the little lellows in their dons, hut he at any rate obtained a great deal of interesting information, as a sort of prelude to a view of the boes actually at work, which he will take as soon as the spring has opened and the bees have begun their season's labor.

Owing to the mild season, Mr. Hulman has left quite a number of the hives outside in the yard. The stands are scattered about under tho trees in purposed confusion, and not in rows. The rest are in a dry cellar under the house, separated from that used by the family. Here the hives are set one on another in tiers. The apartment is dark as night. Light is carefully excluded by mattings over and under the door and windows. In one end ia a screened ventilator. In the warmer weather of the winter, thin ventilator is opened at morning and evening to admit the oool air. This exch sion ol light and heat is to "keep the bees qniet,"for with the admission of either light or heat they become restless, crawl out of the hives, and are unable to find the way back or if they do not come out, they eat too much when the temperature is above fifty degrees, and as they can as yet do no work, they die of dysentery. In the spring, when the hives are carried out, it is done at night, and each is set exactly in the same plaoe that it occupied the preceding season. To insure this the hives are numbered, and a record is kept of their positions in the yard. Mr. Hulman has at present about sixty hives, He formerly had ninety, but is continually selling bees, and replacing by new swarms.

THE llBE'S HOME.

Mr. Hulman uses several kinds of hives. Most are the Langstroth, on which the patent has expired. Then he has the Quinby nou-patented, the Allis hive and some very Bmall square ones lor breeding queens. The liangstroth has a boxed front as a protection, eight frames, and three boxes. The Quinby and A Ilia hives are very irge. There is also auother in hia collection, a big box three times as long as wide, called "The Perfect Hive," which is not perfoct at all, since its length does not sufficiently group the bees as to enable them to resist extreme cold and heat. The Langstroth is by most bae-keepers considered the standard. All hives are painted.

They

venting

are sot on frames sup­

ported by stakes, about a foot above the ground. When the hive is too high the bees have hard work to reach it during strong winds when heavily loaded with honey. Really the best hive is the old-fashioned "bee-gum," or section of a hollow tree for besides its thickness and consequent protection from sudden changes of tornperature.it is circular and allows the bee to build the comb in different directions, pre-

currents of air. But it is not

practicable, because a man must tear oft the top, kill great numbers of bees, and almost ruin their neat bouse-keep-ing, before he can get at the honey. After such a raid the poor demoralized little fellows must work several days

or weeks

to repair the damage before

they can go on with their regular labor. With a box hive and movable cover, the keeper lifts out a box or a brace of frames, the bees detail a "calk" the cracks again,and everything is as before, by next day, except the loss of the spare honey.

FOKKIQNKRS".

Mr. Hulman's bees are almost all Italians. The superiority of the Italian to th eoommon American black bee is in ereater docility and more rapid breeding There is a popular tradition that the demand for Italian bees was on account of their length ot tcrgue, enabl

ing them to get honey out of red clover, the same as bumble bees. But this Mr. Hulman finds to be fallacy.

The difference in the two kinds in appearance, is in color. The Italian is ringed with bright yellow, lhe halfbreeds have but two rings of yellow, and hence a mass of them, as when they are swarming, or when they hang out of the hive in hot weather, presents a curions speckled appearance. But thoronghbread Italians wear as much old jewelry a« hornets. Unlike this ast mentioned fiery animal, however, thev are gentle, easily handled, and seon become acquainted with their keeper.

THE QUEEN.

Never did feudal despot rulo with more undivided power than a queen bee. From her babyhood, or rather grub -hood, «he has at beck and call ten ,to a hundred thousand armed warriors and able workers, who go on long journeys, light all aggressors, fetch and carry, scrub and sweep, buiid, protect her, ask her for directions, and finally become completely demoralized anil allow bees trom other hives to rob them of all their honey if she is taken away. Never was monarchy more absolute. It is impossible that her reign can be shared, for if she has a rival in tho liivo, the two queens must fight to the death, and if they do not do so the workers will kill one or the other, for they seeir. to be aware that'Hoo many bosses .spoil the hands."

The queen ia the life of the whole colony, lor the other bees aro continually dying. Hail storms, rain showers birds, martins, the treading of cows, dysentery, darapDOss, ducks, and a thousand other causes kill the bees all the time. The queen supplies this constant drain upon the numbers of her subjects. It is possible for her to lay 13,000 egg iu one day. She begins in January, on an area not two inches in diameter, on both sides of the comb in the center of the hive. Gradually increasing this area she snpplies all the cells on each side ef that comb. Then she goes to the next one, always keeping the cells in the center of the hivo in use, as they are more protected from draughts of air and from moth. Some times the queen continues laying until October.

BREEDING QUEEKS.

Another popular tradition is that Queens aro merely workers fully developed. But queens are hatched from eggs especially provided. Queen cells are only a few in number, in a little bunch of comb as large as a walnut, pendant in the center of the hive. If she dies, the workers feed one of the larvaj in the queen-cell and develop it, but if they happen not to be supplied with queen-cells on her death, a peck of bees will dwindle to a handful within three months without renewal from tho cells. Therefore all bees in and after mid-summer are young. Those surviving on tho approach of cold weather, of course, go into a torpid state and live until the next season.

We have said there could not be two queens in one hive. This is true except as regards swarming. The old queen kills all newcomers as fast as they aro born unless she expects to allow a new swarm to go out. A well stockod and healthy hivo swarms from one to three times each season.

CHANGING QUEENS.

The fact of constant renewal is taken advantage of by apiarists (Latin apis, a bee) to change a whole hive from black to Italian bees. An Italian queen is introduced into a hive of black boes enclosed in a liny wire cage. She is kept there two days to acquire the same smell, so that the other bees will not kill her. By that time they have become acquainted with the stranger. The keeper then opens the hive again, rakes the black buzzing masses off tho centralfcombs'gently with a stiff feather, finds the old queon, takes her away to be killed, liberates the new Italian among them and shuts up the hive again.

The explorer was during bis stay conducted into Mr. Hulman's shop, hung with frames, hives, lids, glass boxes, wire screens, drone-traps, smoking-pans, vails, comb-knivas, pans of fresh comb as white aa paper, patent wax-strainers, and piles of yellow wax. He was also shown the hon-ey-extracter. This is a large cylinder of heavy tin, containing a circular netting of wire,revolved rapidly by means of cogs and a crank. Four frames of honey in the comb are placed in the netting, after the caps of the cells are removed with a trowel-shaped knife, and when the crank is tnrned the honey all flies out, and flowing to the bottom of the cylinder is passed through a faucet into glass jars. In this shape it is roadv for the market, a pure bright liquid. Those unaccustomed to it at once exclaim "That's made honey." But it is impossible to counterfeit it. One can make syrup, but not honey.

Bat if the explorer weie to write all he kno^s about bees, ho would have this issue of the

SATURDAY GAZETTE

full befoie be knows it for he had already given the subject some attention. It is a most fascinating avocation it's details are indefinite and of unlimited interest. The explorer will keep his word and revisit Mr. Hulman's large establishment in a few weeks.

L4UKA'S LETTER.

Terre Haute, Feb., 18th, 1876. My Dear Fannie, I have beeu so woriied all the week that I have scarcely known which eud I was standing on, or whether I was standing at all. Maybe this will affect my letter, and make it a complaining one, but I hope not. 1 have undertaken the writing of it, to work off a fit of the blues, just as I used to go over to your house to talk the mood off in a nice, long gossipy chat. It would be too bad if in ridding myself of the fit, I gave it to you. I hope it wont, but at any rate I am going to tell you my troubles. So here goes.

You know those cousins of ours over at Bowling Green, don't you? But how foolisti I am, for I know you do. You have seen fhem enough, dear knows, to be tolerably familiar with them, and ."their ways and their manners," by this time. I think, too, that I must have told you that they are the slimest—I mean most distant—sort of lelatives in the world. The relationship is so far off, and mixed up, that I may be mistaken about it, besides, I dont care anything about them anyway, but I., believe Pa's half brother married Mr. Smith's cousin. Now you can just figure out for yourself what relation I am of the little Smith's. We call each other oouMn, but of course we ain't, parry says they are nothing more than second strangers-in-law, *o UP, and be darned to them, which is very wicked in him I expect. But I will show you by and by, that the dear »!d boy has a great

deal of reason to feel exasperated. My, where ami now? Oh, yes. Well you see Mr. Smith, the head of the Smithses—I guess that isn't the correct way to speil the name. But no matter. I would just as leave mangle it as not, Harry calls him the old Black Smith, and I think maybe he is, and that be has taken Harry for apiece of iron, for he keeps him red not all the time. But will I ever gst on with my story? Mr. Smith, Old Smith, the Black Smith, Uncle John. —you pays your money and you takes your choice as the old clown says io tiie circus—Ueejs a little ttore in Bowling Green. He comes to Tcrte Haute to buy goods or stock up us he calls it. Last Saturday night, lie came, and as I look back at it it seems like a horrid dream. He camv in an old mud daubed covered wagu i, ami with him was John Smith Jr. cousin John—and Sailie Smith—cou^iu too, —a portion Df his interesting family. They came straight to our house alio wagon and horses, bag and baggaie, just as if we kept a tavernc a wa^on yard. It was late to, after eight o'clock, and we were done supper ol course. If you had been a devil and loved sights of woe, you could hav* held high carnival in our houso tint? night,sure enough. We all knew In a minute what their coming meant.

Uucle—the word always makes me think of carbuncle—John had come to stock up, and had brought along Sailie with him and they were going to live off of and on us for no one knows how long. Of course we had to treat them politely. We couldn't do anything else you see, they beiug in our house and our guests if they weren't invited. Our hired girl had gone home to see a sick brother or somethingof the kind and woulden't be back for three or four days, and the hired man had gone off some where or other for the evening. Had they had supper? n.i of course they hadn't ami Uncle John didn't hesitate to announce the fact. Ma made the best face she could out of it but I just thought she burst out crying when she went out in the kitchen to get supper for them. I told you, didn't I, that we ha dhad ourt?

Harry had to put up those horses. He was all dressed to go out and spend the evening when they came. When I went up stairs for an apron to help Ma get supper, I could hear him in his room where he WHS taking off his best toggery. He v-as muttering something to himself and, though I couldn't hear what he said, I felt sure, from the tones of his voice, that he wasn't saying his prayers.

After supper, came the question of providing them with beds, and there was more trouble.you may be bound. Old Smith—I wont call him uncle, the selfish old hyena—had allers beeu used to sleeping alone, he said, and so he took one whole room. Sailie and I slept together,and Hurry and John, Jr., together. The children bad to roost around on palletts on the floor, which they liked well enough, but were an awful bother to make.

Now, I dont want you to lisp this to any body, for if it ever got back to her it might hurt her feelings, Fannie, but Sailie Is not a pleasant bel fellow. She snores and kicks dreadfully. But I could have forgiven her that, if her brother hadn't mortified me nearly to death the next day.

They all insisted on going to church. I tried to play sick, but Ma said It wouldn't do at all, and insisted on my going. So we all went. Fannie, you just ought to have seen them. They looked too funny for anything. I felt real ashamed to be seen with them, and it seemed as if every stylish person in town that I knew, met us, and laughed at us. I know my face must have looked as red as a peony when we finally got to church. It never seemed so far off before. I just felt certain all the girls I knew, were looking at me and making fun of me. But I got sort of hardened to it at last, and would have stood it out pretty well to the end, but for an unlooked for catas trophe.

It happened to be communion Sunday, and when the service was passed, John Jr.—the brute. I could chop his head off, I believe—who had been taking a little nap, suddenly woke up, and thinking they were passing refreshments, and feeliug hungry, he'ped himself to a handful of bread, and took, and kept the cup until he was informed of his blunder which thought he never would get through his dull head. I could see all the girls and boys around giggling and Oh Fannie, I Dever felt so mortified in all my life. How the service ended or how we got home I hardly know, but I do know I had a good cry in my room before dinner.

And there again John jr., shone. I believe you know, don't you? that Mr, Howe has gone to Brooklyn to attend that council of Plymouth Church which L* to tell the world how much Mr. Beecher has been abused and lied about. Well, we were talking about his being there and old Smith—I will not say uncleasked Pa if be thought Mr. Beecher was guilty. Something or other distracted fra's attention and John jr., spoke UD, "Mr Beecher! guilty of what Paw?" You don't know how it made us all blush Fannie. The stupid goose, what could have made him ask such a nonsensi?ical and embarrassing question.

Well, it was just one succession of mortifications and botherations all tiie time they were here, and they only left this morning. How I do wish they would never come backBut they will, I know they will.

Now, 1 think I hear you saying, in that exasperatingly benevolent fashion of yours, that I oughtn't to talk so about persons behind their backs, and especially about relations. Well, I don't care one bit.

no more right to make bores of low him. themselves than other people. If relationship is such a tie as to require one side to talk respectfully, it ought to bind the other to act decently.

Of course they invite us to come ov er and visit them and I have no doubt are very hospitable and kindley people, who would put the big pot tn the little one to entertain us «nd maks us welcome if we came. Bat who in the world would like to or would go over to Bowling Green, of

her own free will, or at all if she could help ber-elf, I should like to know. So you see it is all one sided. They come and coma and come, aa people always do from the outlying little towns to the larger central place and the tide seldom or never sets the other way. They dont seem to know that mealS'and lodging" are humdrum things of the stomach and back aud for sale, and that hotels are regular institutions for the sale of the tame I do wich some body would tell them.

Heart and relationship and affection and lovr* are all very pretty, and I am sure I like gush HB well a- ti next girl. But I don't like to make a kitchen girl of«royself and woi 1: my linger-* oft, as a matter of course, ami am*ul tiling, forpeopl wliothimwto nuke a convenience of you and are two mean or stingy to p-iy for their dinners. Besides it seems -o intolerably selfish of them and In p»critiivi! this coming around, an) bartering relationship for dinners, anil hearts for lodgirg, like it were so many dcz^ns of eggs.

P,* went over to their place lact summer about sune law business and stopped a the hotel of cours". He thought tha' would he a hint, hut D'ess you they never took it any more th,.n if he hud been their guests all the time.

Harry and I have about made up our minds tint we will get up a par'y next summer of ten or a dozen aud go over at midnight, and wake them up, and make them get supper. We are going Io stay wi'hthem tor a week. We mean too, to try and eat them out, of house and home if we can, Maybe they will take that sort of a hint? What do you think of it? Dont you think ic would work?

But goodness gracious, how I have run on with this thing. I expect I have put .vou in as had a humor as I was iuy.-elf when I began. I. at lea-t, have gotten over mii.e. That much can be said lor gos-iping, an I abusim: people. It puts you in a good hu mor with yourself.

I have lots of things I want to tell you, Fannie, but it, is getting late, and I must defer them. Write to me soon, that's a dear good gir!, aud believe me, as ever,

Your loving LAUKA

P. S. I have gotten a brand new beau. When I itet his picture I will send it up to you,

LAUKA.

(»R\r.(iK HLOSSOUJi.

Tiie Kenlrlck—Nmytli W«llln{. From tlio Washington Journal. For several months past society lias b.en all torvn up over toe report that a charming yoiiDg l«dy of tills place WHS "to he or not to bo""married to a yallat yonnn gentleman from abroad.—In asking some of the kuowiug ones, we were generally met with, "You just wait now, will you." We waited, aud the result of our waiting was that to day, the 16th day of February, 1876 Mr. [Vtiiiel M. Kendrick, general issemier and ticket agent on ftao Illinois Midland Railrord, led to the alter one of the most accomplished and refined younu lilies iu this land of the living —Miss Kate .Sinydth.—The marringe took place iu St. Mathnw's Church,an I promptly at 1 o'clock P. M., c-ime the relatives and friends of the bride and groom. Then came the ushers, Mr. •Tames E. Miller and Mr. T. H. Hollis. Following these were Mr. Ross, ol Paris, III., the bridegroom's best man, and Miss Mamie Tuell, daughter of Mr. William B. Tuell, of Term Hautef A generel buzz is now hoard, and every eve is turned toward n« door, as Mr. Dan. M. Kendrick. the bridegroom, and Mrs. W. C. Smydth, mother of the bride, enter the church, closely followed by the beautiful bride, leaning on the arm of her father. As they pass toward the chancel, the bridesmaid and the groomsman stand apart allowing the parlies to approach iu the order named above, the bride and ({room taking their places together when they reached the chancel. The beautiful yet solemn ceremony of the Episcopal Church was then performed by Rev. Eichbum, in clear tones and impressive manner After the perfomance of the ceremony the party then repaired to the resi denceot Taylor Bro's, where a magnificent reception was given them.—The presents to the bride were numerous and costly we are sorry we wero not able to procure a list o? them. The 2:40 train in the afternoon carried the bride and groom toward their future home iu Paris, III., where, on their arrival to-morrow niftbt, a grand reception and masquerade hall will |be given them by tho friends of the groom. Mr. Kendrick has taken from our midst one of our fairest daughters, and while we mourn, the loss, we conuratulate Mr. K. in secursng so valuable a prize.

Brazil Baletins. BRAZIL, IND., Feb. 19.

Cold.

Winter. Hail storm last Sunday. Grand calico ball, the 22ad. The famous 8 9 Saloon" is in the City Marshal's keeping.

The S:aunton dance club swung their threes to nines, last Thursday evening.

John Kenneda and Dan Lewis started for California Thursday morning last.

Mr. John Basset, of the Echo force, goes to Peoria, 111., to day in search ot work.

Go to Eckelmire, Weber & Co-.'s for your hardware, tinware, etc. Mr. Frank Morri*, with A. J. Fof ter, went to Terre Haute last night, on his way home to Park county.

Go to our genial druggist,J. A.Croasd*le, for your drugs, medicines, etc. Married—Last evening at Knightsville, Mr. Frank Weaver and Miss Webster. They live just west of Brazil. Much joy to you, Frank.

A. T. Lansing will be a candidate for the office of Recorder of Clay county, as a greenback candidate.

Mr. Saxton, late foreman of the Miner cffice, we learn haB secured work at

Relations have Chicago, where hia wife will soon fol

Our young friend, Frank Hendiick, has opened up a new music store in Hendriz* block, on North Meridian street.

We see by the Marshall Herald, that it proclaimed Mr. James Hamilton, while there a noisy an talkative man. Mr. Hamilton has visited this place severai times, and we have never seen any siens of his being a noisy and talkative man, but a quiet gentleman, only talking when business necessitated."

WASHINGTON.

Slfihtg aiiJ Pounds at the ional Capital.

Clara Xvrris ltd the al.

Nat-

PAi SON NEWMAN AS THE CONItVAIOR OP GRANT'S MslJL \l TIIE riiIK! TE!3I.

Sr g-1 ia (Joner-

{•O inOvn-I MUI Correspondent of the CiAZKrrF. "UI.D PKOBS."

Siiice my last, "Old Probabilities" ht imi-tered his atmospheric legions, .tnd ha* been wngiug a bitter \i,d implacable warfare against the wicke Wasliiimtoniaijs, The snow Fiu* come like an angel's visit, only to he routed by the scorching radinee i»l old Sol, For two or three day*, however, the "wrangling mid tt ejiugling of the he'is" neated -wees and exhiler .ting music. Oo the l..xiiiwtji.lilr! thoroughfares could :e disc'-rued the gaily accoutred t-qui .luges of the rich skimming merrily if by Mide with the dingy e£laolisnmente of the poor. The hearty peal* of true enjoyment which clett the clear fresh uir, from high and low alike, told the story, so oftei rehearsed. That thn roor in th-ti rats contented ami tree, With tiie villi in their laca ai hapry may be

Among the notables who flourish in his out of tho way corner of the universe, the RT. RhV. MAJ. GEN. JOHN P. NEW­

MAN,

late of Chlua, and grand cusdodian of the Presidential soul and conscience, stands well up along the line. That brilliant and unquenchable ishmealite, Donn Piatt, has sealed him with everlasting ridicule and the men* tion of the Reverend's name carries with it a perpetual smile. John P. is something of a clerical wag, as well as a religious politician. His e.flor!8 are, at this time, most sedulously directed toward keeping the immortal part of Grant out of Hell, arid in securing for him just one more term. Grant occupies the seat of honor in this political synagogue, every Sabbath, and receives the fulsome adulation of pastor and people, as though it were the legitimate fruit of his high and migh'y station. For his especial benefit, the Rev. Maj. Gen. has established, beyond cavil or contradiction, that Jesus Christ was a Republican while on earth, and that he now rejoices with all true Republicans ovm the downfall aud demoralization of the Democratic party. After the defeat of the Democracy iu Ohio, he thanked God in the most unctuous manner that he had preserved his faith to true Republicani-m, and averted a great national calamity, by placing in the ascendency the Godfearin., sanctimonious Republicans of Ohio. In all the uncertain twilight ages of history which teem, tnd bristle with ecclesiasticle hypocrites, a parallel which does justice to this august parasite of the administration cannot be unearthed. He is the king of hypocrits, and his hypocrisy ast-umes a dangerous tendency on accouut of his intellectual strength. To be a successful hypocrit a fair share of ability is requisite.

When a minister 'orsakes his field of sacred labor to delve in the political mines, he divides his usefulness two, aud sinks in the estimation of the (Jhristiau a? well as the binstained world. A minister of the Gospel should entertain n« political creed, but should faithfully devote himself to the inculcatiou of that creed which tramples down all earthly distinctions, and points out that path over which humanity of every tenet and degree find their way to the life that lies beyond* A Pastor's duty is to the hearts and souls of bis flock, in preparing them for the final great change. He flagrantly exceeds this holy duty when be caters to their blinding and gangrened prejudices, and keeps bright and fresh the coals of hatred which attend a difference of opinion and celief.

The unapproachable Thespian queen, CLARA MORKIS, has flashed like a meteor athwart the dramatic horizon, leaving all Washington bewildered and enraptured with her transcenda.it aud matchless splendor. For a week she bound, as with a chain of gold, the hearts and minds of the vast aud iences which uightly sat entranced before her. Her success aud her fame are fostered by a genius which perpetually blooms, but never fades. The ephemeral dramas of the day spring under her life-giving touch into glorious, startling realities, and the laborious seeker after a key to the temple of truth, finds it in the mind of this fragile, tender girl, whose faithful portrayals of the good and bad in "the human heart, have entitled ber to a substantial rank as a mentor and a teacher of magical power and influence. As she depicts the vices and virtues of the social realm, and forces into animation and vigor the passions, despair, tenderness, compassion and iove, the scintillations of fhe footlights creep stealthily awa/,the gilded trapping of stage aud theatre disappear, and we discover ourselves unconsciously imbued with her thoughts, her happiness and her auuuish. The world, witli its cares and duties, is wrapped in forgetfulness, and we live ana thinfc only in the charmed circle she drops around UP.

Like the rare and beautiful flowers that bloom in the gardens of life, she ere long will be culled to grace the richly tinted fields that lie on the op posite shore of the mystic river that flowB around the world. Already the ghastly seal of death is upon her. The conetantly recurring cough, which sounds a knell to all who hear, indicates too plainly that the archs fiend consumption has claimed her for his own. How hard it is to die when the mysterious store-house of nature has barly opened its massive po.tals and yielded up its mighty secrets*

Miss Morris' position in private

life is fans peur tt sana rej roohe. Strung* it is too that so conspicuous a mark should have escape') the slanderous and villainous tongues of the world's univert-al ^osslp«. it is always the debused and vitiated mind which dfccovrs in t!ie Hage uau.'l .»ave depravity and licentiousness .Some of tiie brighter gems in ihp social and intellectual coronet.-I.HVP shot tlu-ir brilliancy over :ht* Woritl from behind lhe footlights. TtiO.se qualities which distinguish the good from the bad Mre chit-fly lotiralile j|) the •ita'rlonic profession. Because some objectionable features have ii.sinuated tIn-mse into tin* profession, is HO warrant tor a wiiolfsale crusade against the pure aud corrupt alike. A more p-n^ut engine, for the eradication of vice «i)il immorality, and the elevation of puiily and virtue, than thes'age, has not its place in tin- troud world of letters. }y its Mii'ts on depraved and ruined moriil*, it works a reformation which is not even surpassed by the puipit. Iu every ag?, and iu every lam), where cultivation has obtained, the stage has ever claimed a generous place in a people's heart. How true it is, that its devotees "are the brief abstract, and chronicl .• of the times.''

E S A

In the fif:eeutii century, during the reign of Charles the Fifth in the Netherland--, autocrat of half the world, the stage played on important and never to he forgotten part. The numerous jftiild- organized themselves into Taespian societies, and it was greatly through their potent agencies that abuses and outrages'of that ruinous reigD were made known in their full and terrible sig nification to the people. It assisted most materially in causing the spirit of liberty to return to a people over whom the demon of]tyranny and despotism had spread its baleful wings for centuries. It lighted the watch fires of liberty on every hill and in every household and finally inaugurated a struggle against tyranny leagued with rapine and murder, which shook the civilized world and engaged the nations of the earth in speechless and wondeiiug admiration. Thesedramaticperformances furnished the primary Impetus which burled the valorous little Dutch Republic against the combined strength of onehalf of Christendom ill assertion of its liberties and its righ'.s.

Abuses have douhtlefs had their entrances on the stage, hut no more so than in every profession which ever flourished beneath tho I suu. The ministry has been assailed with more notorious abuses than ever disgraced the stage, still the last thought of intelligence ia to inveigh against that commuuity which stands as a pillar of lire to direct mankind towards eternity. That great land mark of liberty and tolerance iu every age of the world, the law has' been, and is hampered by manifold and grievous flaws, but where is the man who will brand the great class of eminent and distinguished lawyers with the imfamy of pettifogging practicioners? This is a rule that will apply to every profession that has existed since time was decreed in the council chamber of creation. The «tage is the bright light which hangs over tiie universe to lead mankind to truth and morality. Let bigotry croak at will, the fact still remains bold and prominent, that the stage, as a profession, wields as great, if not a greater influence for good than all others, and stands on the very foremost rank of noble profusions. "The Play's Hie thing."

LAERTES.

A (joud 0 te on Uorrioii.

Mr. John A. Gordon is night clerk at the National House, and a very good ono he makes too. Ho was not thoroughly itiUi ited in the business until about the thiid or fourth night after lie wer/t there, and that initiation tsoiieiliat is probaoly very deeply imbedded in bis memory. There was a gentleman at tbe house registered, Charles Wilson, lie was well dressed and iu every outwarJ uppearance, respectable, having strictly obeyed tbe injunction of Iago to Roderigo, to "put money in thy purse." The trouble with him was that he had too mnch money. He was burdened with a hundred dollar bill wbicii he wanted changed. As it was lajte at night there was not that much in the till, and the chanre could not have gotten out in town. Mr. Wilson was uoueb in need of a little matter of $8,' and since the bill could not be chang-i. ed, he suggested to John that he advance him that sum and take his order on John S. Jordon, boot and shoe merchant, with whom be represented he had deposited $200. John bit at this like a hungry mackeral at a piece of red flannel, and the bait proved equally deceptive.

The next morning about 4 o'clock. Gordon might have been seen encamped oil Jordon's step, the very picture, of (im) patience on a monument. At tbe usual time Mr. Stine, heid clerk, arrived, and John produced hi* order, which read:

John S. Jordon: Pies© pay Qarvin JC Heinly (8, on sight. CHAS. WILSON. 8:ine remarked, on John's explanation tbat, Wilson bad represented himself to have ?200 there, that Mr. Jordon was not at present runniog a bank of deposit. As an additional mortification, Stine, who had not beard that John had any connection with the hotel, wanted to know if a clerk wasn't pretty soft, who would be taken in by such a give away as tbat. John thought he was, arid left.

ASaitd nrd Medium.

John L. Morgan and bis daughter Laura,(medium) the latte« of Terre Haute, have been giving a serious of suiritual seances in a log cabin in Wellsboro, III, at the solicitation of Mr. Blackstone, a young law stucent. Everothing wroked harmoniously for the first four or five nigbts, the girl waving the materialized bands of every body' dead relatives from tbe aperture of tbe capinet, but at last Miss Laura grew caroless and thrust her arm too far into vsew disclosing the end of sleeve and the cord with which she bad been bound a few minutes before by the committee selected for that purpose. And now there is sadnesa inexpressible in the Blackstone famsV and tbe Morgans have departed.

Even Grant's church, where Parson Newman preaches, sympathizes with Babeock. Irs spired "crooked" by several feet since the recent gele.